Satan To Finally Star in His Own Reality Show

"The Real World," "The Bachelor," "Hell's Kitchen"--these are just three of the thousands upon thousands of reality shows that for years have infested our airwaves like a humiliating venereal disease.

These shows have made celebrities out of the talentless and brainless, assuring a bovine public that they too can be successful with an 8th grader's perspective of the world, and without that, uhm, head-hurting mind-thing that, you know, involves thinking and it's all creative-like and it starts with an 'I' and rhymes with 'fabrication' and 'indoctrination'....aah, that's right, imagination.

Who wants imagination?, says the popular broadcasters and their consumers. Imagination is so not marketable, and gay. It's too much of a 'brainy thing' to create something remotely original. Plus, that's gay, too. 'Brainy things' are gay. So let's go for what's most convenient, salable, and not gay--Let's finally launch that 'So You Think You Can Fart' show we've been developing for quite a while now! People love farts! That's entertainment gold, right there! Strike one. It's a televised national competition, where only the cream of the farting crop will remain, judged by a panel of fart experts, with elimination rounds so stretched out it'll make the Final Judgment seem like a quick pick-up at a Burger King drive-thru window. Strike two. And farting is so not a gay thing, 'cause gay people don't fart! They won't allow it. It's against their lifestyle. Ever seen a gay man fart? Exactly. But true blue-collar Americans? We love breaking sweats and wind! Strike three! Bam! Out of the ball park! Home-run! Now we've got the best television show since that 'So You Think You Can Pass Gas' idea that we so sadly had to scrap because the executives thought the title was too long to read and might scare off viewers.

Surely the popular broadcasters and their consumers are as responsible for the emergence of reality entertainment as boozy mothers are for a population with fetal alcohol syndrome. But there is also someone else--someone who has created and since then orchestrated the reality television enterprise from within the mysterious and unspoken depths of the entertainment industry--who until now, at a time when really bad publicity is really good publicity, has remained silent and unnamed, thanks to an upcoming reality show made in his honor--the devourer of souls, Satan himself.

"I was actually considering that for my television name--'Satan Himself,'" says the Fallen One, as we sat and talked in between sips of coffee, mine hot, his iced. "But I'd think loyal TV viewers would immediately realize that that name is just a ripoff of 'Raab Himself', the name of one of the regulars for 'Jackass,' which became an MTV classic, thanks to me, of course."

After a century's worth of work quietly done within the past 16 years, and within the shadows and flames of the impenetrable fortress of Hell--from crafting "American Idol" into an unlikely paradigm of modern Western music, to devising the stardom of Heidi Montag--Satan has finally been given his due credit as the true king of reality entertainment with a show of his own.

"Honestly, I've been preying on many helpless souls for this moment, but for so long, I had to be hidden for fear of bad publicity; 'Oh, what would our Christian viewers think if they found out that we had made deals with the Devil for fame, fortune, and creative inspiration,' the big-name television execs would say. But luckily that fear is past us, thanks to the likes of Britney Spears, Lindsey Lohan, and Paris Hilton--I just adore these girls!--who have miraculously made bad press, and absolute depravity of mind, body, and soul, into a profitable venture, and that's something that television execs can never say no to for their lives, apparently! So, in spite of what the religious freaks may have to say about this, Fox is finally giving me my own reality show, and who knows what fruits this may bear?! Possible spinoffs on ABC? Perhaps a dating show gig on VH1? Reruns on Bravo? The possibilities are as endless as damnation itself! I love it! I'm soaking in this right now!"

When asked what his show will be about, Satan replied that it is a reality dating show where 10 men and 10 women will vie for his affections by subjecting themselves to ungodly acts of moral embarrassment and physical harm, such as walking on glass while smoking a cigarette and lifting a gasoline-drenched boulder, and eating the gonorrhea-infected penises of deceased vagrants. I told him that his show's format sounds a lot like "A Shot at Love with Tila Tequila," and before that, "Flavor of Love with Flavor Flav," to which Satan said nothing, bewildered, and darted his eyes about as if looking for an answer. Satan then tried to divert me from my question by pointing out and shouting, "Oh my! Is that that rock legend, Bret Michaels?!" But since I wouldn't turn around, and once he knew that I would not fall for such a childishly-conceived ploy, Satan gave up, muttered "Oh fuck it," swiped both my coffee and his from off our table, and the Sun Chips I had left out for a snack, and ran away.