Getting up for work is the intro to my sit-com. I wake to chirpy mind-guitars jingling light-hearted cheer, setting the scene for you, the viewer, and letting you know that yeah, life throws a lot at kav, but he deals with it with good humour via purposely messy hair. Then as I step out of bed the bass and drums kick in and the camera tracks me to the bathroom. I adjust my sac on the way, peeling it off my thigh as the vocals start – clever words about how even though life has its ups and downs, you’ve just gotta keep on keepin’ on. On-screen you see “Kavalier” in funky scrawly writing*, a glorious play on words giving emphasis to the quirky, off-the-wall nature of my lifestyle.
The song continues with shots of me getting dressed as the words “Starring Kav Kavson” flash up, while you, watching at home, settle down with a glass of red wine and a pack of Thai Sweet Chilli crisps, probably served in a special bowl with a separate little compartment for dip, ready to catch up with your favourite show. See me grabbing a banana, kissing Linzi (“with Linzi Kavson”), and hurriedly hugging the kids (“Erin Kavson”, “and Jack Kavson”). This demonstrates to you that no matter how much pressure I’m under, family comes first.
The song approaches its singalong climax with me running for my train and nearly missing it (jeez Louise, he so crazy, living on the edge like that), walking the streets of Glasgow to work (fast cuts of me nodding hello to various people on the way, all of them of different ethnicities to demonstrate to my viewers that not only am I not a racist, I’m also really fucking nice), then running down the corridor as I see someone hold the full-to-capacity lift for me, and I climb in, having barely made it. The intro ends on a close-up of my frazzled face, looking hapless and amiable and doing that “aw-shucks-stuff-just-seems-to-happen-to-me-by-accident” smile that has become my trademark and the main reason for my sit-com being syndicated globally. All the loser extras stand behind me in the lift (they wish they could be stars of sitcoms like I am, but it just won’t happen lads), just as the doors close…and fade to black.
Fade back in one second later and a panoramic shot shows the outside of my work building while that funkelastic guitar kicks in again for a few seconds. Diddle-a-biddle-a-beer-neer-
deer-neer-waaaaoww-waaawwwww. The camera then zooms right in to a particular office window. (It may not be my office window but it’s enough that you think it’s my office window.) This sets the scene for you: Kav’s at work, and he’s in a good mood because the music told you so.
INT: KAV, STROLLING TO DESK.
kav: Good morning everyone!
All: Shut the fuck up you happy wanker.
kav: Dang, you guys are so miserable. Come on, join the party!
(canned laughter as kav does “hilarious” white-boy-who-wants-to-be-black dance)
Colleague #1 (token black dude, “Special Guest Star Muhammad Ali”): Man, dude, why you always in such a good mood? It’s Monday, you know it’s rude to have a happy attitude.
kav: Heeeey, the party never stops at chez k, brother!
(more canned laughter and squeals of delight as kav does Ricki-Lake-style “sista” neck movement)
All colleagues (closing in on kav): You’re a fuckin dead man.
(ALL – KICK THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF HAPPY KAV. HE’S LEFT A BLOODIED MESS ON THE FLOOR. CLOSE-UP ON KAV’S SWOLLEN FACE AS COLLEAGUE #1 HOLDS A GUN TO HIS TEMPLE.)
Colleague #1: I ain’t your brother, you’re getting me mixed up with some other. Now have some of this, a bullet’s kiss.
(Colleague #1 pulls trigger. Kav’s happy thoughts splatter all over the hard-wearing office carpet. The REAL kav then enters the office, steps over happy kav’s body, takes off headphones and sits down.)
Real kav (mumbling, sullen): Morning lads.
Others in general vicinity: Mmmph.
Real kav (scowling because it’s Monday, asking but not really caring about the answer): Good weekend?
OIGV: Mmmph, football, hhmmph, gimped Saturday night, mgrr, dying on Sunday.
Real kav (turns on PC, distracted by the internet): Yeah, good…heheheh, check it out, a woman got killed by her pet camel when it tried to ride her. Heheheh.
(cue Darwin Awards dream sequence)
What? Nobody else thinks of their life in televisual terms? Right, I’d better shut up then.
*thanks to Devin for the name of my sitcom.