Punk'd Junk'd

by ELMORE TERADONOVICH, Alternate Reality News Service Film and Television Writer

Have you ever wanted to see Ashton Kutcher's head transplanted on an animal that looked like a cross between an alpaca and a Segway? With a divorce lawyer's karma? If so, you should check in with your family psychotherapist, because that's listed as a Proprioceptive Disorder (it will be a trial sport in the next Olympics) in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Party Edition.

Or, you could watch the latest episode of the AMCCCP network's America's Most Heinous Practical Jokes.

Using a combination of genetic manipulation, cybernetic surgery and real-time, real-life CGI, Kutcher transformed himself into an alien creature. Then, he enlisted the aid of heir to the combination razor-writing utensil empire Penn Gillette to walk him around a typical suburb in the heart of Dallas. Gillette had prepared a long sales pitch asking people if they would be willing to sponsor a true alien for American citizenship, but, as it happened, he would not get the opportunity to use it.

At the first house they approached, the door was answered by part-time stay at home machine shop worker Vilvie Farkenburger. Farkenburger looked at Kutcher. Kutcher looked at Farkenburger. Farkenburger screamed. Kutcher screamed. Farkenburger screamed louder. Kutcher screamed louder. As if on cue, they both fell silent, catching their breath. After a couple of seconds, Farkenburger started screaming again. Then, Kutcher started screaming again. All the while, Gillette was laughing. Before anybody could actually say anything, Farkenburger slammed the door shut.

There was no answer at the next couple of houses. Then, semi-professional bantam weight scrapbooker and nobody's sweetheart Angela Multiplex answered the door. Multiplex looked at Kutcher. Kutcher looked at Multiplex. Multiplex screamed. Kutcher screamed. Multiplex screamed louder. Kutcher screamed louder. As if on cue, they both fell silent, catching their breath. After a couple of seconds, Multiplex started screaming again. Then, Kutcher started screaming again. All the while, Gillette was laughing. This time, Gillette managed to say, "Ma'am, I was wondering if you -" before the door was slammed shut.

Obviously, the people in this neighbourhood were well-practiced at their stock television sitcom bizarre situation reactions.

Still, by the fourth house Kutcher and Gillette visited, this routine had begun to get repetitive. At the seventh house, there was a break in the routine: after all the screaming, a man appeared with a shotgun and grazed Gillette's shoulder with buckshot. His laughter wasn't quite as effusive after that. At the eleventh house, the police were waiting for the pair, and, as they were hauled off in the animal shelter van, the merry prank was officially at an end. (It would have been at the eighth house, but, after the gunplay, the producers decided to move the show over a couple of blocks.)

"I thought Americans would have been more sympathetic to aliens," Gillette commented after a 20 minute strip search where he pulled a ballpoint pen, a diecast scale model of the Enterprise, an engagement ring, an iPod Nano, a pineapple, two dinosaur eggs, a paperback copy of Sartre's No Exit, somebody's upper dentures, a Beanie Baby spider, a quill pen, flags of the world on a string, a 2009 Dilbert desk calendar, a plastic knob from an unidentified machine (possibly a radio), three partially digested Maalox pills, a pink shower cap, a Blue Oyster Cult CD, a wedding ring, a pair of tickets to a '63 Mets game and a baby's arm holding an apple out of various orifices (the police didn't determine that he was innocent so much as ended the search out of exhaustion). "I guess they were thinking more of Alien than they were of ET."

Critics of the show were critical of the prank. Oh, wait - that would be me. Aren't the producers just exploiting has-been actors desperate for another five minutes of fame?

"You don't understand," said Finnian Berricky, pear segment producer for the show. "That episode of America's Most Heinous Practical Jokes got over two million viewers!"

But, isn't embarrassing members of the public for purposes of purported entertainment hard to justify? You know, morally?

"Perhaps you didn't hear me," Berricky argued. "Over two million viewers. AMCCCP doesn't get that many viewers! Ever! Not even for the episode of In Search of Exotic Things To Titillate Jaded American Sensibilities where one of Leonard Nimoy's kneecaps was gnawed off by a wombat!"

Bowing to Berricky's persuasive argument, I had to admit that America's Most Heinous Practical Jokes was terrific entertainment. But, how are they going to be able to top this prank on next week's episode?