Bored with swapping wives? Tired of pushy millionaire bosses? Running out of things to get made over, traded, nipped, tucked, renovated, or pimped? Is there nothing too weird for your daughter to marry any more? Then you’ll love the newest reality show that takes you to the very edge… of mortality!
This average American family has been injected in their sleep with the Ebola virus and whisked away to a fabulous, quarantined house in the California hills. And their teenage son has been given exactly two doses of antidote!
Watch as Sheldon and his wife Anka, their daughter Rosalind, their infant son Emil, and their dog Sparky deal with their impending doom, knowing that their boy Hugo holds their very lives in his vindictive palm. Will they beg? Will they plead? Will they nobly sacrifice themselves, asking only that he spare one of the others? Not during sweeps week, they won’t!
HUGO: It’s really tricky since I don’t want to use my own dose too soon. If I have both vials I might sacrifice myself so both my parents can live, or something dumb like that. As if! Meanwhile they’re dancing on my strings, man. It’s great! It’s totally worth the headaches and internal bleeding.
SHELDON: I can’t believe this is happening! My family is descending into barbarism before my eyes! We’ve shared our lives, our triumphs, our secrets, and now everyone is ready to betray each other just to live a measly 40 or 50 more years? Are we animals?
ANKA: I trust Hugo to make the right choice. He’s a good boy with strong family values instilled in him by his loving, devoted mother. The mother that carried him for nine and half months and never told his friends he was a bed-wetter. This is very hard for Hugo, especially while he’s so distracted by all the video games his toadying father bought for him. I saw those Visa bills, Sheldon!
ROSALIND: Is this thing on? I’m so embarrassed. Mom and Dad are acting like scared little kids, sucking up to the big bully, and doesn’t he just love it. I don’t play that way. Instead I’ve decided to sneak out during the next Electrolyte Challenge Event and replace both vials with jello shots.
SHELDON: Sparky has been so supportive during all this, such a good dog. I’ll bet my body would accept your organs, wouldn’t it, boy? Huh? Wouldn’t it? Good boy!
HUGO: I’ve decided to stop making my family do my bidding while dancing happy little pixie dances. It’s childish of me, and all the crying is keeping me awake. Instead I’m going to see if I can shove them through all five of the Kubler-Ross stages before Thursday. First one that gets to Calm Acceptance gets a vial, unless I think of something cooler by then.
EMIL: Viggo!
ANKA: Quiet, honey, mommy is counting. I’ve been figuring body masses and I think if I can lose twenty-six more pounds I can share one of the doses with the baby. That makes sense, right? It’s cost-efficient. Better me than Rosie, she’s been porking up on all those cakes and pastries I’ve been making for her.
HUGO: I got it! We’ll play Halo 2, right, but for real! Like, they’ll be the Covenant aliens and I’ll get Dad’s .22 and chase everyone around the house! Sweet! Then I’ll make the survivors fight to the death with garden rakes! Ultimately, I think it’ll make us closer as a family.
SHELDON: OK, I’ve signed over the house, both cars, my AmEx, my Lakers season tickets, and stolen your sister’s diary for you. What’s left? Our wedding rings, you want those? Honey, come here a minute? Hurry, my eyesight’s fading!
It’s laugh-a-minute hijinks as these whacky walking corpses make and break alliances while they wheel and deal for their lives. And don’t miss the exciting finale when we reveal what none of them know: there is no Ebola cure!
“Beg For Your Life!” 9 o’clock Wednesdays. The wildest reality show ever!
Or at least until next mid-sweeps-winter season, when we’re planning something with the flesh-eating virus and an orphanage if FOX doesn’t beat us to it. See you there!