Audition for Happy Hillbillies

At first, auditions to replace the actor playing Cletus in our newest production, I’sa Happy Hick (which will henceforth become Happy Hillbillies) didn’t go all that well, and we were somewhat discouraged. But Mama always said things have a way of working out (she was right about that AND about the blue eye shadow, which DOES look cheap and tawdry).

Here is a photo diary of that agonizing process.

We loved Shaggy. However, Shaggy is too high profile for this assignment. We want people to look at the character and see “Cletus,” not the famous sloppy hippy who would do anything for a Scooby Snack. Still, we adored him in the audition and decided to make room for him in the cast of characters. Shaggy will play Cletus’s not-so-bright comic sidekick who will do anything for a Stag beer. We’re working on the name. Nothing specific comes to mind, but we want it to be two names, like Ed Earl or Billy Earl.

This guy just has a back-alley urban look that doesn’t fit the part. Also, he and Britney Mae (whom the producers and the target audience love) definitely make an odd couple. He looks too old and too rough for her. We could have him back in a recurring guest role and the crabby trash truck driver/owner who gets into hilarious laugh-track enhanced arguments with Britney Mae about hauling off couches and such. They'll zing each other and so on. Like Roseanne and that gay guy on her show (she worked for him, then he later worked for her....)
The only problem with this guy is his back muscles are so overdeveloped, he cannot hold his head up straight. Also, his head seems rather smallish. He and Britney Mae did screen test together well. The chemistry was nauseat… sparkling between them. In fact, we had to hose her off twice. In addition, THAT is the costume he insisted upon wearing. I mean, we're not filming a male nipple movie here! (To quote the famous Owen Meany). Who do you think you are, overdeveloped muscle guy? Charlton Heston? As if!
Sigh. Why do agents insist on sending clients to these casting calls when they obviously are the WRONG TYPE? It is such a waste of time! Yet, we have to let him audition, according to the Toy Actors’ Guild (TAG). We don’t have to hire him.

I am so tired of these illegal aliens popping up everywhere! (For those of you who think you have seen illegal aliens and are routinely mistaking humans for them, THIS is what they look like. These lazy beggars will NOT sweep the food court at your mall for $6.00 an hour!) Oh, no, it's showbiz for these little hams.

At first, this guy seemed all wrong. That’s the power of the three-piece suit. However, once we got the idea to put him in a mullet and got the following shot, we knew we had our man!

Yeah? Yeah? It’s ACTING, after all. We’ll put a pair of bib overalls on him, have him grow a little chin stubble. Get a dialogue coach to work with him.

None of it’s real, you know. Cletus isn’t real. Britney Mae isn’t real. Jon Boy Walton isn’t real (oh, you didn’t know about Jon Boy? Sorry. Yeah, I was bummed when I found out, too).

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by Julian Blue

I'sa Happy Hick

(Note: The following post is rate PI for Politically Incorrect. It contains images and ideas that may be offensive to hicks, hillbillies, or rednecks. If you are a hick, hillbilly, or redneck, and you recognize yourself in one of the characters in today's performance, for CRYING OUT LOUD, keep that to yourself! Don't ADMIT it!)

I’sa happy hick. Whassat? I oughta not use 'at word, hick? Let me tell you, I embarrass 'at word…. Er, whassat, Britney Mae? Embrace? You shore? Okay, then, I embrace 'at word. (Britney Mae done finished high school last week; she knows a thang or two about words and what they mean n all 'at). So, Ima hick! Ain’t no shame innit! Got me a good truck. Got me a nice mullet. Look like a country sanger. Wooooo hoooooo! Yea-yah!

Got me a dog to ride in the backa dat truck. He ain’t none too smart. I call him Demmy-crat. Dem for short. Bwwwa haha ha ha. Wooo-doggies!

Got me a purty little wife. Got a bun in the oven. Bought her a used van, haul around all them youngins we plan on havin’. Ha ha ha. Gets about 5 or 6 mile to the gallon, but that’s okay. Once them Demmy-crats gets one o their own elected president, them gas prices gonna come down. You wait n see. It’s a plot again the Preznit, is all. Besides, Britney Mae done learned at church that sometimes when them oil wells dries up, they fill right back up with oil. The lord will take care o us 'at way. Sides, them damn tree huggers get outta da way, they's a ton a oil up there in Alaska.

Notice Britney Mae is a WOMAN and I is a MAN. Because that is the way it is supposed ter be. Marriage is between a MAN and WOMAN. Says so inna bible, and Britney Mae go to church every Sunday, so she know about them things, too. Marriage is sacred. Now, that's a word I knowed well--sacred.

Got me a little sweet tatie on the side, too, but don’t y’all be telling Britney Mae ‘bout that. Heh heh. What she don’ know ain’t gonna hurt her none. Man’s got needs, you know. Needs and rights.

Got a weird neighbor I hate, though. He’s a fireman, which is the only thing that keeps him from dyin’ o lead poisoning. Hee hee. Coz I might pump his ass full o lead! HA! I think he might be a lil bit funny. Ain’t natural. Ain’t right. Now them types like him wantin’ same rights as Britney Mae n me, but I said marriage sacred, for men and women only. Can’t be cheap…cheap’n…cheap’nin’ marriage now.
Finally got us a house. Fixer upper. Shore worry about dat capital gains tax, though. Why we gotta keep votin’ Republican. Demmy-crats take ever damn thing we got 'fore we know it!

But, at the end of the week, it’s all good. Got my Nascar on the satellite TV. Get me a cold one. Sit in my big ol’ chair. King of my castle. WOOO HOOOO! Don’t git no better n this!

Be careful them liberal Demmy-crats don' take it all away!

Wooooo hoooooo! Yea-yah!

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by Julian Blue