Congratulations Heroin Monster!

You’re a monster made entirely of heroin (rar!) who has ravaged many a countryside in Europe. You’ve laid small towns to waste, ruined families and divided thousands upon thousands of bands over the years. You’ve also sparked some slight creativity over that time, mostly centered around the struggle of overcoming your clutches and recovering from the devastation you bring to people. Word is you also had a big hand in helping Darren Aronofsky craft Requiem for a Dream as well as several other films, completely unrelated to heroin. And you occasionally ravage third world countries and fuel, then devastate, their economies.

But none of this is what you wish you were doing. For as long as you’ve been able to remember you’ve always wanted to be a game show contestant. You’ve just never had the chance. You watch Jeopardy! constantly when you’re at home, and you attend quiz nights with startling frequency (they’re one of the better places to meet people who want to work with a monster made out of heroin) and you mail in letters, resumés and statements of purpose to television producers constantly.

Over the last four years none of it has borne fruit. It’s almost been enough to propel you towards a drug problem (irony!) but the purity of your goal has kept you strong. Quiz shows are your passion. They’re what you want to do with your life and what you’re good at. You know in your bones that you could be the next Mormon-guy-who-does-really-well-at-a-game-show, or the next person who does okay at a game show and takes home a bunch of money for being relatively smart. But you’ve never had the chance. Until today.

Today you’re going to step out of your apartment with the goal of giving some young people at a local bar some heroin. They’ll have called your cell phone and they’ll be expecting you to show up, but when you see the envelope, its pressed lettering declaring that you’re a contestant on Jeopardy!, you’ll call up those junkies and tell them to go find another fix because you’ve got to prepare for a quiz show. The junkies will then shake their fists in what they perceive to be the direction you’re in and then tromp off to do whatever it is junkies do when they’re not doing drugs (lazy, inept sex).

For the first time in your life you’ll feel like more than the sum of your parts which, remember, are made entirely of heroin and are actually pretty valuable from a commodities standpoint. You’ll be filled with hope, hope for the new possibilities this opportunity will open up for you. You’ll hop in your Prius drive all night to get from Columbus, Ohio to California. Then you’ll camp outside the studio in it, waiting twelve days and twelve nights for your shoot date, which will be fine for you because you’re a monster made of heroin and you don’t have to eat. Then you’ll go in and, in a rush of excitement, be a part of one of the highest rated Jeopardy! episodes in recent memory.

You’ll come in second, losing the final Jeopardy to a Jewish girl who answered only a handful of questions up to that point. You’ll still feel pretty good about your experience, but you’ll feel a little bad that you won’t get another chance to appear on such a show. The producers will too, and they’ll go back to their producer-rooms and start thinking of a way to get you back on the air. They’ll see money in your heroin-soaked hide, and they’ll want to tap into it.

Don’t worry, they’ll find a way.

Congratulations Heroin Monster!