Monetizing Cave Paintings

So I’m sure you’re just like me and you’ve asked yourself: What would happen if today’s entertainment sensibility had existed at the time of cave paintings? Well I think it would go a little something like this…

Caveman Investor: Hey Urgwag, we just reviewed your latest series of paintings in the south cave. Really great stuff.

Caveman Artist: Thanks, I’m really trying to collaborate with your integration people.

Caveman Investor: (not really paying attention) Yeah, really great, really great. We love what you’ve done with the buffalo in the second act, really great stuff the way the spears stick out of him at different angles and how he falls over in the next panel and the spears are still at the same angles.

CA: Uh-huh, well it’s not realism but really an interpretation of our linear intersection with the creature’s life.

CI: Right, right, say listen (looks down at stone tablet) about those spears, the integration people aren’t happy.

CA: Why not?

CI: Well, Argwajug’s spear company gave us free product plus 25 buffalo skins to get their logo in there and you can’t really see the logo on the spears.

CA: Argwajug’s spear co….

CI: Yeah, yeah, that’s right. Really big deal and they’re not happy.

CA: Well when you throw a spear the logo doesn’t always wind up in the same place, it’s not realistic.

CI: (tapping chisel impatiently against tablet) Look Urgwag, we gave you 10 additional mammoth tusks for this painting didn’t we?

CA: Yeah but…

CI: And we promised you we wouldn’t do any integration that wasn’t organic to the situation you wanted to portray, right? Now spears are organic to the hunt, aren’t they?

CA: I guess but…

CI: Well, you’d better repaint them so Argwagjug can see his goddamn logo or else he’ll pull out and we won’t be able to afford to do another cave.

CA: (defeated) fine…..

CI: Also, we have a potential new revenue stream. We need a panel for Ungabba’s new invention, he left some wheat out in the rain and when it got soaked he drank the liquid and he got smarter and funnier and better looking. So he says anyway. He wants to market it as Ungabba’s Miracle Tonic.

CA: What’s a tonic?

CI: No idea, but why are you questioning a caveman using the word “tonic” when you haven’t questioned us cavemen using currency, advertising, writing, or the term “goddamn” before money, writing or religion were invented? Look, if you’re going to start questioning the anachronisms now the guy writing this is going to give up the premise and we will cease to exist!

CA: What’s so bad about that? We’ve only been alive for the ten minutes he’s been writing this.

CI: May flies at least get a day! Do you want to not even make an hour?

CA: Well we keep feeding him material, maybe he’ll keep writing.

DC: Hello my creations

CA and CI: Lord!

DC: Yeah whatever. Listen, you won’t cease to exist. I rather like you as characters.

CA and CI: Thank you Lord!

DC: I’ll use you again down the road. But meanwhile, back into my mind.

CA: Can I go down the trapdoor into the basement where all the booze runs in?

DC: Of course, you’re an artist.

CI: And can I go and try to get that part of your brain that focuses on making money working a bit better?

DC: Sure, but you run the risk of killing yourselves. If I start thinking about career advancement instead of making up stories you could die.

CI: It’s a pickle, to be sure.

DC: Well, story’s over. In you go!

CA: Hey, it’s Glen, the guy from that last story! Hi Glen!

Glen: Hi guys. Nice pelts.

CI: Thanks. Hey listen; didn’t you get changed into a baby girl or something?

Glen: Well yeah, but really I was dead in the first part.

CA: What?

Glen: Yeah, I never made it across route 13. Bus hit me and I never knew what happened. Bright boy here was trying to imagine Hell as a place where only small details changed and life just became slightly more boring every day but eventually you get reincarnated at the price of losing your identity. He’s a clever one isn’t he? Did you notice all the numbers in the story were multiples of 13? Happy Halloween indeed.

CA: Well, it does explain the tire tracks on your shirt.

Glen: Nothing gets tire tracks out. Want to head to the bar?

CA: There’s a bar in here?

Glen: You’ve met DC, right? Yeah, there’s a bar. Creaky old linoleum floor, smells like 50 years of spilled lager, dim lighting, a couple of friendly cats. Nice place but the jukebox is awfully weird though.

All: Let’s go!

(Curtain)

(Thanks to the great Jean Shepherd for the characters Og and Charlie who partly inspired this latest bit of stupidity)

Comments

R R Rabbids said…
Didn't I warn you that the little red ones were acid?

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