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Livin’ with Lil John
I was thinking about The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air earlier today, and I noticed that
what the world is currently missing is a family-oriented sitcom starring a successful hip-hop
artist. Wasn’t life just that much better when you never knew how Uncle Phil was gonna throw
Jazz out the door this time? I felt like we were living on the edge back then (helped in part
by the Aerosmith song of that name being released around the same time). Which is why, mega-powerful
TV executives, I offer you the latest in a long line of concepts for assuredly astronomically
successful programs: Livin’ with Lil John.
The concept is simple. Lil John, having become a phenomenally accomplished performer and
producer, moves into an affluent suburb. Hilarity ensues when his urban, street culture clashes
with his lily-white neighbors, the Alfredsons. Plus, you just can’t help but laugh as a domesticated
Lil John, like, waters the lawn or has a cook-out (which undoubtedly features some ‘ethnic’ foodstuffs
like collard greens or purple Kool-Aid, all to the disgust of his cultured neighbors). But the Alfredsons
aren’t just foils for Lil John’s colorful behavior.
He can, like, help them with their problems. For
example, when their teenage daughter is going to run away from home, Lil John catches her in the act and
sits her down and has a heart-to-heart with her regarding facing your problems now and running away from
them will only make them worse when they finally catch up to you and he’d never have gotten where he is
today if he’d listened to all the haters along the way. When she agrees to stay and work things out with
her dad (who’s probably an insurance executive or something else that’s totally boring and uncool) Lil John
yells out “OKAY!” And there can be another episode where little Billy Alfredson, who’s only, say, seven,
becomes enamored of Lil John and starts emulating him and commenting on girls’ butts and stuff, which is
wildly inappropriate but so darn cute cause he’s just a little kid and doesn’t know any better, and the parents
are adamantly opposed to this. But then, they all learn a valuable lesson about letting children be themselves
and find their own paths in the world, and to look out for your child’s happiness above all. Then they’ll
hug. And the mom, who’d been wary of Lil John since he moved in, will warm up to him a little bit, and realize
that beneath the Courvoisier and the wild parties he throws at all hours of the night, Lil John is all about
family values. Then he’ll ask her if she wants to take her shirt off or something like that, cause he’s incorrigible.
Off-center baseball cap?! What will that Lil John do next?
Lil John is about to pop his head over the fence and ask "where the
honies at?" but Mrs. Alfredson doesn't know any better and brings
him a jar of honey!
And definitely they’ll have to be a Halloween episode were Lil John and the whole family have to stay in a
haunted mansion for one night in order for Lil John to inheret a billion dollars (which he’s going to use to build
a local community center. And a day care facility for strippers’ kids) from his old crazy uncle that he’s never met
before. And when the ghosts are moaning “Get out of the house!,” Lil John will yell his trademark “WHAT?!” and the
crowd will go totally bonkers. By the end of the episode, Lil John and the ghosts will be playing dominoes and drinking
forties, and when asked how he tamed the wild undead, Lil John will say something like, “YEAH! These ghosts was just
all uptight cause they hadn’t gotten there freak on in so long! So I got me some booty-ful lady ghosts over here and
we threw down up in this piece!” Then he’ll inherit the bazillion dollars but lose it all at the track before he can
complete any of his projects. Obviously, there will also be a Christmas episode were Lil John dresses up like Santa
Claus, but then he meets the real Santa Claus, who gives him his Christmas spirit back and then mysteriously vanishes
when Lil John turns around to thank him. Santa pulls that all the time.
I have lots of great ideas for sitcoms about rappers (I mean, who doesn’t?), so if any of you television executives
out there want to give me a whole bunch of money and put me on a board of directors or something, and get me out of this
blight on human history called the internet, just drop me a line at
firstname.lastname@example.org. Love letters from Secret
Admirers are also welcome.