A/N: Blah, blah, blah. I could put whatever I wanted here and it wouldn't matter, would it? Spoot! Monkey pants! Sprampt!
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"Let me guess." Uno spun around in his chair to face his assistant, who was, as usual, clutching a manila envelope. "The reality show idea tanked too."
She wordlessly held the envelope out to him.
He opened it and looked at the contents. "No," he said flatly, handing it right back to her.
"But it's what the execs--"
"The execs don't have a concept of reality," Uno pointed out, grabbing his phone and dialing. "Hello, this is Uno. -- Yes, I understand that shows like that are experiencing a surge in popularity right now, but we simply cannot afford to put that much money in a show that isn't pulling in the -- Yes, I know that. -- Yes, I know that." He put his hand to his forehead, as if he were getting a headache, which he probably was. "Yes. I understand." He hung up.
There was a silence.
"What are you waiting for?" he barked, making his assistant jump. "Get that to the writers!"
"Yes, sir." She turned and fled.