-- actual announcement from Colorado Studios received recently at the Westword office.
A couple of shopworn Writers, not the "chained-to-the-desk" type, currently between stories.
Female Writer: "I don't see why we should have to make something up. Cinema verité, you know? Can't we just go out...into Denver...and write down something snappy?"
Male Writer: "I like C*O*P*S."
F.W.: "Right, but how about we use firemen instead? Firefighters...in big suspenders...who -- I know! Can dance! Dancing firemen!"
M.W.: "Or some kind of underappreciated, crusading government worker."
On the hunt for sitcom ideas, writers stand slack-jawed in front of Annex One, a Stalinesque government edifice that flanks Denver's City and County Building.
Interior, the Tax Assessor's Office. A Member of the Taxpaying Public is saying: "I live at BLEEP [address deleted]. According to you guys, it doesn't exist. But I assure you..."
Five minutes later. Writers have been granted an audience with the Chief Appraiser himself, one Ben White.
Ben (politely): "A sitcom? Uh, I don't know. A lot of times what goes on around here is negative. Conflict."
M.W.: "Which, as you know from watching TV, can be very funny."
Ben: "Not when you're in the middle of it." He reconsiders. "Necessarily. Well. There is this woman who wants a lower assessment because, she tells me, she had all these radio beams and alien visitations out at her house. Jamming her telephone wires, and that sort of thing."
F.W.: "You would think that would make her property pretty attractive to some people."
Ben (laughing politely): "Ha ha ha...Oh, and there's this other lady -- we've gotten to be good friends. She built a shed, and then her land was subdivided and the property line went right through the shed, so now she basically owns half a shed. She's usually furious. At one point, she wanted me to come get this other guy's stuff out of her shed, which is not traditionally what the chief appraiser does."
M.W.: "Who would you want to play you in a TV show called, say, The Taxman?"
Ben: "Aw, come on..."
F.W.: "No, really."
Ben: "Well, I like Bruce Willis. He's got a great presence and a terrific laugh."
F.W.: "And lately, he's buff."
Ben (brightening): "And I'm planning to be buff one of these days!"
Interior: A hallway near the assessor's office. Camera zooms in on sign reading: DENVER CITY SHERIFF'S DEPT. POLYGRAPHS. M.W. and F.W. exchange are-you-thinking-what-I'm-thinking glance.
Interior: A female polygraph officer stares evenly at writers. The black polygraph chair, with its large, imposing arms, is somehow reminiscent of "Old Sparky," Colorado's infamous electric chair.
F.W. (somewhat desperately): "How about a game show? Like, uh, we could call it Don't You Be Lyin' to Me!"
F.W. (pressing on): "But wouldn't you say you're better than most people at guessing who's lying and who's not?"
M.W.: "And wouldn't that make good TV?"
Officer: "I wouldn't wanna use the word 'guess.' It's more like instinct. And you know...a game show could be funny...There are deceptive mannerisms. Like when I'm really bugging a subject, he may start wiping at something, some imaginary lint. Women do a lot of blinking. Or they say no, no, while their head nods yes, yes. Both sexes might put their hand to their mouth when being untruthful..."
M.W.: "As if to keep the truth from flooding out?"
Officer: "Exactly. You know, I had a guy just recently in for a pre-employment screening. His record says he's been arrested for more than $15,000 worth of felony theft. I say, have you ever been arrested, had trouble with the law, et cetera, et cetera? He says no. I show him the record and say, how do you explain this? He says, oh, did that show up? I gotta tell ya, sometimes you feel like you should be wearing a little white collar and saying, 'Go, my child, and sin no more.'"
M.W.: "That'd be a good episode. Are you a good poker player?"
Officer: "I am an excellent poker player."
Brief montage during which Officer explains that she would want to play herself in the sitcom and actually has done quite a bit of acting and screenplay-writing. Makes a note to herself to call her agent about local commercial film work. Perhaps sensing that writers have little chance of winning the sitcom contest, she advises them to take a cue from Quentin Tarantino, Spike Lee and "those two Good Will Hunting kids" and try, if possible, to produce their own pilot, thus maintaining creative control.