Wednesday, April 28

Heh!...Boo!...Ha Ha Ha!

I had heard about the awfulness that is the TV program Scare Tactics. A couple of nights ago, though, I experienced it first hand, and I was repulsed.

If you don't know what it is, here's a synopsis: So-And-So is host, and sets up each wacky scenario. Then we see someone get traumatized, then they tell her she's on Scare Tactics, and they all laugh.

The two scenarios I came across were as follows. Number one: Some rich guy is, apparently, wanting to hire an assistant. At his mansion, he and another assistant (the grifters) lure an unsuspecting young woman (the mark) into the house, I assume, from an ad. Just as the interview begins, a message comes across the intercom/message machine, for all to hear. The message comes from a wacked out fanatic female stalker.

Guy tells victim not to worry, she's crazy, but can't get in. SMASH! Something smashed through a bedroom window. Quick, victim and already-assistant, go investigate. "We're creeped out, but okay..." They go to the bedroom, see a brick that was thrown through a window, with a scary note attached. "We're even more creeped!".

They come badk in the main room, and see the guy tied up in a chair, with blood trickling from his head. Crazzee Woman is there, wielding a real-size Clue Impliment. Totally freaked out, the victim is told to sit on the sofa, and then to help tie up the victim.

That was enough for me. I switched the channel. After a quick perusal of other channels, though, I was back.

This time, a young female victim, and another young woman were in a big old house in the woods. It's night, and apparently some monster is skulking around outside. Some guy is outside with a shotgun, investigating. Victim is getting really freaked, especially when they see the hairy monster slink past windows of the house. Some Guy comes smashing in through a patio door, glass flying everywhere. Followed by Sasquatch.

Victim freaks out, but "hold on, don't freak out. You're on Scare Tactics."

This is the lamest, least interesting crap of schlock on television today. Bleccchh!

I tell ya, Allan Funt is somewhere rolling over in his grave. Of course, his toupe stays in place, making the other patrons of the cemetary do a double take. Now that was comedy!

That was definately enough for me. I'll not be returning.

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