Showing posts with label Actor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Actor. Show all posts

Thursday, June 1, 2017

Sega's Infamous "Absolutely Rose Street" Infomercial!

Back in 1994, Sega decided one of the best ways to advertise their new 32X add-on was to create a fictitious soap opera about 20-somethings butting heads with a public-access TV producer who hates video games. Surprisingly, the gimmick didn't do a whole hell of a lot to move units...


By: Jimbo X

Now, all you motherfuckers know I love me some Sega, but even I have to admit they did a LOT of fucking up in the 1990s. Rolling out the Sega CD way too early, manufacturing pointless hardware like the Pico and Nomad, forgetting to tell retailers they were releasing the Sega Saturn, not putting a DVD player in the Dreamcast, letting a partnership that would have effectively given Sega the rights to the Playstation fall apart - considering all of those monumental screw-ups, it's actually kinda' surprising Sega didn't go belly up as a console maker than they already did. 

In the rich panoply of Sega hardware fuck-ups, though, perhaps the 32X represents their quintessential console misstep. Even now, I'm not entirely sure why the thing was green lit; after all, it was released just months before the 32-bit Saturn console hit store shelves, and with a grand total of about 30 games in its library, pretty much nobody anywhere had much of an incentive to purchase it. I kinda' sorta' get the idea that it was meant to beef up the Genesis and keep people playing their 16-bit powerhouse while waiting for the Saturn's release, but jeez - was even that worth squandering millions - maybe even hundreds of millions - on a product with a barely eight-month life cycle?

Not that I consider the 32X to be a terrible console. In fact, it actually had some really good (and some bordering on legitimately great) titles. Still, considering how crappy Sega's advertising for the console was, in hindsight it's no surprise why nobody seemed to have gotten excited about it. Spend another $160 to play a slightly less shitty version of Doom and Virtua Fighter? No thanks, I'd rather teach my pet hamster to swallow $20 bills whole. 

And perhaps nothing shows the ineptness and cluelessness of Sega's marketing brass more than the mystifying squandering of cash that was Absolutely Rose Street. Never heard of it? Well, that's probably for a good reason; because it was a half hour long infomercial that aired only a couple of times in 1994 at like 3 in the morning on The Golf Channel. That somebody out there actually recorded this thing for the sake of posterity is pretty much a miracle in and of itself - and, in my eyes, prolly the greatest evidence of a higher power anybody can ever drudge up.

It's pretty much impossible to sum up what Absolutely Rose Street was in one sentence without making it sound like the ramblings of a peyote addict, so just bear with me, kids. You need the full picture to grasp this one, and trust me - this is a trip down memory lane I guarantee you won't regret.

Honestly, I WOULD rather watch this for half an hour instead of a bunch of hipster turds talking about video games. 

The presentation begins with a huge-boobed blonde woman wearing dark red lipstick with a nasally voice like Harley Quinn's saying the following infomercial is a paid advertisement from Sega, although she thinks it should've been her show, Stylin' With Stella, instead. We get a bunch of rapid, MTV-style flash cuts of surfers, skaters and dudes just hanging out by the beach juxtaposed with gameplay of Virtua Racing Deluxe and Doom. Then, for some reason, we get a REAL Environmental Protection Agency P.S.A. with a whole bunch of nature shots and tips on recycling paired with a proper 32x commercial showing a guy going to a carnival, getting knocked out, having visions of the Sega CD and waking up in a hay pile beside a bearded man dressed like a woman. So, yeah, they actually put commercials inside their infomercials, because - hell, I have nary the foggiest idea. So we get these two guys sitting in a room (who sound just like a bunch of guidos from Goodfellas) and they strategically shut off a TV right before some broad says the word "Nintendo." The executive tells the producer he wants them to produce a show pandering to the video game playing demographic and the producer says video gamers are all a bunch of losers whose brains have turned to mush (man, what a way to celebrate your target audience, huh?) We learn the producer's name is Joe Whitehead, and he visits the crew behind Game Beat, some indie local access TV show and holy shit, there's a Dreamcast logo spraypainted on the wall because sometimes, predictive programming is real

Joe wastes no time before berating the crew, stating "headline, your show sucks." He says they need to radically overhaul the program or they're cancelled. By the way, if you want 1990s enforced-multiculturalism at its best, you can't beat the Game Beat cast, which includes a white dude, a black dude, an Asian dude and a kinda Hispanic looking token gamer girl. They ask Joe for a higher budget and new equipment and he describes video games as "the bing, the bong, he's up, he's down, he's in and out" and there is NO WAY to make that interesting. He also insults one of the kids by sarcastically calling him "a genius" and saying he bets he plays video games - then the cast hangs out by the beach during sunset while sad, grunge ballad music plays.

The Asian kid says he will have to go back to his job at Radio Shack, while the white guys say's his dad will tell him he should've gone to school instead. The white guy and the maybe Mexican chick walk down a side alley (at a slanted angle, of course) and she asks him what he thinks the biggest news in gaming is these days. She says Doom and the guy make a joke about everything being doom with her. Then, she says the greatest line I have ever heard: "Doom is coming to video games" (which, for those of you who need some retard script translated into English, means "Doom is being ported from the P.C. to home consoles." 

So she talks about the new 32X being a "power charger" for the Genesis. She claims it can make the Genesis go "40 times faster," while the dude thinks it's all marketing hype (holy hell, why would they even hint at that in their own advertisement?) Regardless, the girl (who does remarkably look like a 20-something Tara Tainton) thinks the matter should be investigated further and circles some video game magazine copy about the 32X while the rest of the crew (wearing the most 90s-ish clothing you could imagine) hit the streets to interview teens about Sega's latest and greatest hardware. 

Some talk about their fears of the "Sega or the Genesis" becoming obsolete. I'd like to say they are obviously plants, but at least paid plants would be able to properly name the systems they are talking about. Then the white dude wearing a shirt that just says "radio" on it starts doing this thing where he goes "heh, heh" while snapping his neck in and out like turtle. For absolutely no reason whatsoever.

The girl then sends a really passive aggressive instant message to Sega's media point person and when she hits the send button, her CRT monitor EXPLODES with a mini 32X commercial. Then it's time for an Incredible Crash Test Dummies commercial (man, how weird was it to hear Garfield's voice coming out of a fatal car crash victim?) and a Sega Game Gear ad where a fat retard hits himself in the head with a dead squirrel so his Game Boy will show more than two colors. The announcer trumpets games like "the new Ecco and Mortal 2" but all I can think about is how they were able to not only use in-game footage of Super Mario Land 2 in their commercial, but even the music from its soundtrack. Not that it's that effective of an ad to begin with - shit, I did a top 50 Game Gear games of all-time countdown and I can safely say SML2 is way better than anything Sega put out on its handheld.

Oh, the 1990s - when not only was making fun of the obese and retarded OK, it was practically encouraged!

At this point, a graphic pops up on screen asking you to vote for the show you would rather see: Game Beat or Stylin' with Stella. Then the girl gamer meets Sega representative "Brad Granger" and the dude who designed Tomcat Alley in a warehouse and they tell her everything she saw in his email was confidential. Then they tell her about Midnight Raiders and how the 32X boosts the graphics and sound of live-action Sega CD games ... somehow. Brad and the chick exchange Shakespeare quotes in front of a giant Sonic and Knuckles cardboard cutout and the sexual tension is REAL, ya'll. She brings up Surgical Strike and Wirehead on the Sega CD and Virtua Racing, Doom and Eternal Champions (which never actually was released) on the 32x. She says she NEEDS to play and review these games because people are afraid they will make the Genesis and Sega CD obsolete and they finally cave in and agree to show her come software.

Cut to the rest of the nerds interviewing AMERICAN MCGEE in an arcade in front of an old school Outrun machine. He's wearing a Doom shirt and says practically nothing has been lost in the translation from the PC to the 32X and the graphics, sound and speed will be virtually identical. Well folks, there you have it - the greatest lie ever perpetrated against mankind. Also, he says you don't want to know what his dreams are like and the white guy cackles like a maniacal retard.

Now the chick is in a dark warehouse nook wearing a belly shirt and this feels so much like a mid-1990s softcore Showtime porno that I already have a boner. She shows off a 32X and a demo of Virtua Racing Deluxe (which, to be fair, is actually a really, really great port that's better than even the Saturn version.) Then we get a montage of them pretending to play the game and acting like 'tards while gameplay clips play over the picture-in-picture nonsense. They show the footage to Joe and he says he ain't impressed and that games are just "a phase" like the Hula hoop. The gang goes back to their warehouse studio thing and the black guy says he hopes Joe dies "a slow, slow painful death." I just noticed, the white guy kinda looks a little like Frank Mir. He says he has "every reason to be pissed" because his show got shit-canned and he thinks his girl is boning a 32X programmer. Then the black guy says "ego is the devil" and the kinda' white kids (who are probably dating, although it's never explicitly confirmed) chit chat for a bit. The guy apologizes for being a jerk earlier and she (wearing a skin-tight silver spandex shirt and coveralls) says to focus on finishing the show because revenge is a dish best served cold.

A telephone number flashes on the screen. I'm not entirely sure why, but I think it was a hotline back in 1994 were you could vote on whether or not you liked Game Beat more than Stella's show. Because man, was that the kind of thing Sega really should've been spending its money on. So, Joe meets Stella backstage and they conspire to give her show the old Game Beat time slot and she smooches him and smears blood red lipstick all over his face. Now it's time for an anti-drug commercial with a dealer going to a basketball court and a fat black kid saying he doesn't need drugs because he needs to graduate and laugh and have a good life, but most of all, because he needs his punk dealer ass to leave the area right then and there. Then we get a fake commercial for Stella's show. She's wearing a sparkly red dress and her hair is up in a bun thingy and the show's logo is written in lipstick on a mirror behind her. Then we get a BIZARRE Genesis commercial in black and white with a surfer guy going to a morgue and being shown a competing console (I think it's supposed to be the SNES, but it looks way too blocky underneath the sheet) and everybody recoils when they show its remains offscreen. The commercial announcer says you can always add the 32X and Sega CD to your Genesis and footage of Jurassic Park and one of the later Joe Montana football games rolls. The ad concludes with the kid asking the mortician to burn the unnamed console, because nothing says "hardware sales" quite like creeping your customers the fuck out.

Now we get to watch the newest episode of Game Beat with Kristen Savage and Max Jackson. Yeah, those fuckos have actual names, but eh, like you or anybody else cares. So they walk around this "underground party" on Absolutely Rose Street holding mics and asking people random ass questions about the 32X. He's wearing a denim jacket with the sleeves cut off like Nelson Muntz from The Simpsons while she's wearing a shimmery gold dress and dark brown lipstick (man, do I miss that look.) They talk about the heavily hyped 32X unit and wonder if it's' worth the hype or just media buzz (again, why in the fuck would Sega put doubt inside the heads of consumers in one of their own commercials?) Despite the white guy saying "Sega is the king of 16-bit," he's skeptical about the new hardware, ay one point asking if Sega "shot themselves in the foot" with the console add-on. And that, kids, is the definition of a "self-fulfilling prophecy." 

Nope, it's not a screen shot from a random 2005 G4TV show. Like anybody could tell the difference, though.

Max shows you how to put a 32X in your Genesis, list its $160 MSRP and lets you know you can STILL play your Genesis games through it. He says he gives the 32X "two fists up" while footage of Virtua Racing on a CRT atop a column plays. Get it, because of Columns and shit? Eh, that's probably giving the people who made this turd way too much credit

We get a few seconds of the new Star Wars game and Savage says "all you Doomers" can be happy because Doom is on the 32X and it's "faster than a 486" and it's "going to put you in interstellar hell." Then Max holds a random CD-ROM and says the 32X is going to turbo boost your Sega CD games. The only problem, though, is that they don't actually have any live-action CD games to show off yet, so here area few cuts scenes from Midnight Raiders, Wirehead and Fahrenheit (the firefighting sim!) to tide you over. "What have video games gotten to?" Savage remarks. "Now we're saving people instead of killing them?"

Savage rhetorically asks whether the Genesis is dead and he keeps doing a Dr. Frankenstein impersonation saying "it's alive" over and over again while pointing at the 32X. To show the Genesis ain't dead yet, we get footage of NFL '95 and Sonic and Knuckles, complete with a demonstration of its much ballyhooed lock-on technology.

Good lord, this is the greatest parody of X-Play ever, except it came out a decade before X-Play was even on TV. Oh, there's also the new Eternal Champions game on the Sega CD, which is marketed as having the bloodiest deaths ever in a video game. Funny how they censor one of the fatalities, but don't bother blurring out the after-effects of said fatality with the bloody corpse fragments splattered all over the stage. Then the sorta' white girl busts the definitely white guy's balls by saying it's for mature audiences only so he can't play it

She preps "Brad Granger" for an incognito meeting with Joe at the studio. He leaves a copy of Game Beat in a huge video box with the name of Stella's show written on the label. Joe and Stella (wearing a blue evening gown and looking like a way hotter version of Elizabeth Banks) are watching her show on TV, but just moments into the program it is interrupted by Game Beat. The next day Joe is called into the producer's office and he tries to explain what happened but the producer tells him he loved the show and the sponsors thought it was great. He tells him they want 26 more episodes produced and that they loved the joke "about the bimbo." We cut to the Game Beat crew hanging out on the beach discussing ideas for the next episode. The girl proposes "virtual reality theme parks in Japan" and mull ways they can bilk Joe out of money to send them on a paid vacation. Max thanks Brad (who now is rocking a Hawaiian shirt with his hair shagged out) for helping them put the show together. Then Joe gets on his knees and begs Stella to forgive him (if she cut her nails, she could play games, too, he tells her) and then she hits him with her purse and he screams "Sega!" because you'd expect him to scream "Stella!" because that's a reference to a preexisting work of some kind.

We cut to Stella taking phone calls while the phone number from earlier flashes on the screen. She thanks a caller for voting for her show and then she berates another caller for voting for Game Beat. We get one more paid advertisement notice from Sega and learn that Game Beat and Absolutely Rose Street are copyright protected by some non-Sega firm and - mercifully - that is all she wrote


Well, I guess that pretty much speaks for itself, don't it? For those of you wanting more insight into the program, there's not a whole lot of info out there on the Intrawebs. Per some Sega wikis, the infomercial aired on Comedy Central, MTV and ESPN2 in November and December 1994, and believe it or not, it was actually promoted by a few Sega-backed magazines back in the day. While there is an IMDB page for the infomercial, it really doesn't have much in the way of information, and since literally one person in the cast is listed, I'd venture to guess the black dude on the show is the person who wrote the whole thing. Purportedly the thing was put together by the advertising agencies Patrico-Sinare and Impulse Productions, but there really isn't Jack Shit out there in Internet-Land with any hard data about who and what they were, either. And since the infomercial doesn't have end credits, the identities of virtually everybody in it sans one remains a mystery to this day (and that's a shame, because there are at least two people on the program I'd love to see naked in straight-to-DVD B-movies from 2002.)

Such an undistinguished piece of Sega history, most people didn't even know Absolutely Rose Street was "lost media" when it was "recovered" after 20 years of obscurity. Needless to say, very, very few people likely ever saw the infomercial during its initial run, and of those who did, I can't imagine a large percentage of them were persuaded into purchasing a 32X. In fact, I'm willing to guess that Absolutely Rose Street didn't inspire a single goddamn person to buy a 32X, which means Sega LITERALLY squandered hundreds of thousands - perhaps even millions - of dollars on a pointless marketing campaign that didn't net them even $160 worth of profit.

And at the end of the day, I'd venture to guess that these "small" advertising disasters is what really put Sega out of the hardware manufacturing business. Yes, the disappointing Saturn and Dreamcast sales played a role, but had Sega not wasted millions on stuff like Absolutely Rose Street or the Sega Star Kids Challenge or Macy's Thanksgiving Parade balloons, there's a possibility they could have at least scraped by for one more console generation. As evident by the monumental turd that was Rose Street, Sega was no doubt a repeat offender of one of the greatest no-nos in business; OVER-PROMOTION. By sinking so much money in pointless marketing gimmicks, the company put itself in an even bigger software and hardware hole that they could have possibly surmounted had they not spent such an astronomical amount on publicizing their shit. The over-advertising boom is what caused the great dotcom bust of 2000 and we're still seeing companies today make the same fatal mistake of investing too much into marketing that nets minimal market gains

Perhaps we can all look back on something as misguided as Absolutely Rose Street and laugh at the cheesiness and absurdity of it all. But rest assured, as nostalgically terrible as it may be, it was "small" mistakes like this that wound up depriving us of a Dreamcast successor. Hardware and software manufacturers, do take note - if you want your company to go belly up in a real hurry, squandering capital on needless, pointless and ineffective publicity ploys of the like is the quickest way to make your I.P.O go D.O.A.

Thursday, September 1, 2016

An Ode to Zeke the Plumber!

Warm, wistful recollections of the episode of Salute Your Shorts that inspired untold nightmares for Nickelodeon-weaned youths in the early 1990s...


By: Jimbo X
JimboXAmerican@gmail.com
@Jimbo__X

Back in the early 1990s, Nickelodeon was a veritable treasure trove of youth-centric, neophyte consumer culture. Yes, the vaunted cable network will always be remembered for Doug and Rocko's Modern Life, but whenever I reflect on the Nick that was, I always dwell upon more obscure fare. Rugrats and Ren & Stimpy, you say? Well, I raise you Hey Dude, What Would You Do?, Nick Arcade and Kids' Court - and don't even get me started on the commercials for Pop Qwiz popcorn, Blow Pops (from Charms!) and all of those wacky ass studio-produced interstitials, like that one claymation bumper about the kid who had his guts flipped to the outside of his body after going backwards on a swing set.

While a lot of old school Nick programming has little to offer outside of that most precious of commodities - gloriously overvalued nostalgia - some of the shows from the early and mid 1990s remain pretty entertaining. While it isn't as comprehensively brilliant as The Adventures of Pete and Pete, Salute Your Shorts is certainly one of the better of the old Nick programs. It's a solid, personality-driven comedy that really captures the kitschy culture of the early 1990s without feeling too detached from the modern world. That's kind of the ingeniousness of the summer camp setting - it's supposed to feel a little alien and isolated and somewhat removed from the rest of society, so naturally, it would have to have a kind of atemporal atmosphere. 

Debuting in 1991, Salute Your Shorts wasted no time at all before getting knee deep into utter wackiness. Indeed, following the precursory pilot which established the motley crew of Camp Anawanna - as well as introduce middle America to the quasi-sex act known as the awful waffle - the series immediately shifted gear to a Halloween special, which, to this day, is considered one of the freakiest things ever permitted by Nickelodeon's upper brass, with many believing it to be even creepier than their legendary "banned" TV movie Crybaby Lane.

Enter Zeke the Plumber. Considering the ubiquity of characters like Freddy Krueger and Jason Voorhees in the late 1980s and early 1990s, it's not surprising that a lot of kid-centric shows introduced characters meant to mimic and mock the slasher movie stalwarts. For example, there was an episode of Tiny Toons with Plucky Duck having nightmares about "Eddy Cougar" and an episode of Bobby's World in which the eponymous character was tormented by reveries about the plunger-lugging "Mason." No riff on the horror heavies, however, made as big an impact as the first - and to this day, only - media appearance of one Zeke the Plumber, the special guest ghoul who debuted in just the second episode of Salute Your Shorts' very first season. 

Needless to say, transitioning from this to
Clarissa Explains It All was a bit of a
challenge. 
Even now, old Zeke remains one of the most memorable things about the program - in fact, for a lot of people, Salute Your Shorts is remembered as nothing other than "that old Nickelodeon show with the evil plumber in it." Despite his one-and-done showing, the Internet throng clearly hasn't forgotten about the character, and with the Halloween season in full swing, what could be more seasonally appropriate than revisiting his sole media appearance?

All these years later Is Zeke as terrifying as he was back when we were in the first grade, or a quarter century after the fact, does he just come off as pure hokum? Well, how about we fire up our old VCRs and evaluate the situation for ourselves? 

The episode - fittingly enough, titled "Zeke the Plumber" - begins with Eugene "Sponge" Harris, the resident pipsqueak, ambling about in the woods, recording nature on his black and white camera. He encounters camp troublemaker Bobby Budnik - portrayed by Danny Cooksey, who outside of Salute Your Shorts, is perhaps best known for his roles as Montana Max on Tiny Toons and John Connor's best bud in T2 - carving all sorts of rude things about counselor Kevin "Ug" Lee on a tree, so future generations can know just how incompetent he is as a human being. Of course, Ug is right behind him, and he tries to obtain the damning proof-of-guilt from Sponge. That's our cue for the standard Salute Your Shorts opening, which includes that immortal ad lib from Sir Budnik himself, "and when I think about you, it makes me want to fart."

As per every episode of the program, it begins proper with the disembodied voice of Doctor Khan informing campers of the day's itinerary, which this evening includes ghost stories and bingo (with a first place prize of licorice on the line.) At the ghost story telling competition, camp fat-ass Donkey Lips asks Budnik if he still has an irrational fear of spiders (boy, I sure hope that isn't foreshadowing or anything), and our scrawny, Dave Mustaine-lookalike begins spinning the tale of Zeke the Plumber. According to Budnik, Zeke lost his nose in the military, when a Filipino parrot ripped his schnoz right off. Well, one fateful day, he strikes a gas line while digging a ditch, and since he can't smell the fumes, he winds up blowing himself to kingdom come when he strikes a match. All the ever found of his remains, Budnik says, were his upper lip and a plunger. Of course, Zeke's ghost remains on the campgrounds, forever in quest of his lost toilet unclogging implement, and wouldn't you know it, Budnik has that very object in his possession. It is cursed, he tells the other campers, and anyone who touches it will be visited in their dreams by Zeke's supernatural form. If you're thinking that sounds an awful lot like the M.O. of a certain insanely popular cinematic child molester and mass murder from the 1980s, you aren't alone - in fact, one of the characters even remarks how similar this Zeke fellow sounds like our good buddy Freddy K. 


Back at the girls' cabin, sassy black pre-teen Dina laughs off all of the Zeke tomfoolery, while her pink-bedecked revivalist hippie roomy Z.Z. sprays toothpaste around her bed and slaps herself on the forehead with spit-soaked palms to ward off any evil spirits. A few mysterious bumps in the night, however, and both Dina and stereotypical entitled white girl Telly are likewise coating the perimeters of their bunks with cavity-preventing cream. 


Over on the boys' side, personality-less clod Michael wakes up and sees a mysterious figure - wearing a downright ghoulish mask - unclogging a commode. Zeke fishes out a stuffed animal and produces a bullhorn, so he can tell everybody that Michael still sucks his thumb. Right before Zeke plunges more deep, dark secrets out of his skull, Michael wakes up, screaming like a banshee


The next day - and after Dr. Kahn lets campers know they need to discard the milk cartons with expiration dates printed in 1983 - Budnik confronts Michael about his night terrors and joshes him for falling for his ghost story "hook, line and stinker," which is deliciously punctuated with Budnik actually passing gas. Over at the other side of the breakfast table, Dina - who couldn't catch a wink of sleep the night before because she was so scared, dozes off. Of course, she has a reverie about a certain nose-less custodian, who promises her he will grant her her biggest wish. She says she wants to play pro ball, and he whisks her away to an abandoned disco hall, where the tomboy is now clad in a frilly white dress. 
Oh, the 1990s; when fat shaming in children's
entertainment wasn't just acceptable, it was
practically encouraged!

She wakes up and meets with Michael, and they both talk about how Zeke - somehow, someway - seems to know their deepest, darkest secrets. So they meet up with boy genius Sponge, who explains to them what mass hysteria is. Enter Budnik, who harasses his camp-mates some more. That's when Michael floats up an idea for a competition. If Budnik can spend all night in the same part of camp where Zeke was allegedly blown to smithereens, then Michael will lug his stuffed animal all over camp and Dina will wear a dress all day. But if he can't muster enough courage, he has to announce to God and everybody that he's nothing but a little chicken. Budnik - as if you expected otherwise - accepts the challenge gleefully. 

After Budnick sets up shop - a lawn chair, a cooler, and enough junk food to keep the cast of Heavyweights at bay for at least a week - the rest of the kids and Ug (no doubt wanting revenge for having his good name besmirched at the beginning of the episode) get together to concoct a prank against Budnik. Budnik's right hand man Donkey Lips - who was brutally mocked for bringing his master non-ruffled potato chips - is given a Jack O Lantern mask to wear, which is noteworthy because it looks just like one of the masks in Halloween III that made the little kids' heads explode. 


Ever the clever little ruffian, though, Budnik anticipates that his colleagues will try something, so he decides to set up a few booby traps of his own. After smashing a spider crawling around on his copy of Wrestling Warriors (not sure if that's an official Apter mag from way back when, but it certainly sounds like one they would've published,) he waits for his would-be pranksters to approach. The kids attempt to give Budnik the willies (interestingly enough, also the namesake of a GREAT early '90s horror anthology that starred the same kid who plays Donkey Lips on this show) by just jumping out of the bushes and screaming, but ha-ha, the joke's on them, 'cause Budnik has instead placed a scarecrow - complete with a marked-up "melon head" - in the lawn chair, and when it rolls off his shoulders, it makes everyone pee themselves a little. Of course, that last little detail is non-canonical, but come on, you know there would be at least some urine if you were in that situation. Admit it. 


So Budnik leaps out of a conveniently placed oil drum and everybody freaks out. He proudly declares that nothing or nobody can scare him, which naturally leads to all of the boy campers trying to ambush him while dressed up like members of the Ku Klux Klan (or maybe they are supposed to just be regular old ghosts, this being a kids' show and what-not), but what do you know, they trigger a tripwire, fall into a ravine and get showered by a homemade six-pack 'o soda rocket launcher. With all of their meager attempts to frighten him thwarted, Budnik calls for all his fellow campers to present themselves, so he can mock them one by one. 


His boasting is short-lived, however, as he is confronted by Zeke walking back to the camp. Of course, this leads to a big Friday the 13th style chase through the woods. But, there is a big twist - you see, Budnik knows that Zeke is just Ug in disguise, and he lures him directly into the old "get your ass caught in a rope and hung upside down until somebody finds you" trick. The dead giveaway, Budnick says? Ug told him he can smell his fear, which is clearly something a man sans olfactory glands is capable of doing - figuratively or literally. 


Whilst en route to retrieve a knife to free Ug - or perhaps sacrifice him to the Dark Lord, you never really can tell with these metal head kids - LOLOOPS! Budnik runs directly into a huge ass spider web, and since it has been firmly established that he has extreme arachnophobia, you can imagine just how much he freaks out, much to the joy of his constantly bullied co-campers. After being "rescued," Budnik is forced to be a pack mule for the rest of the campers, as he takes that long, shameful walk back to the cabin.


How does Zeke the Plumber smell if he doesn't
have a nose? Well, pretty terrible, if
you ask me. (Cue rimshot.) 
Oh, and if you are wondering what happened to Ug? Well, nobody ever came back for him, so he was forced to spend all night with his blood pooling up in his brain (which can be extremely fatal, in case you didn't know it) staring at the mean etchings Budnik made on a nearby spruce tree. And just when things couldn't possibly get any worse for the camp counselor, here comes Donkey Lips, still wearing the pumpkin head mask, barreling towards him at full speed. I got to admit, that's a pretty funny way to wrap up the episode - although, even with some willing suspension of disbelief, I have a hard time accepting that even someone as dumb as Donkey Lips would literally spend all night ambling around the environs totally blind without once mulling taking the damn thing off like any normal person would have. But ... digression

And that's that folks. Clearly, the show feels quite aged in many respects, but holy shit, is there just something about that Zeke mask that - even now - evokes pure terror. It's kind of like the original Michael Myers mask in the first Halloween movie; sure, at the end of the day, it's just a William Shatner mask spray-painted blue, turned inside out and with the eye holes widened, but for whatever reason - which I presume touches upon some primordial fear that our advanced mammalian brains are too civilized to detect - such a sight is just creepy as all hell. Well, that human-but-not-quite-human horror aesthetic holds true for Zeke, too. Granted, the dude is basically nothing more than Sam Elliot with a bloody patch on his nose, but sweet Jesus, those eyes. Those bleak, dark, vacant, soulless, shark-like eyes. It's such a simple, simple trick, but it unquestionably makes the character unnerving. 


Yes, the episode is somewhat chintzy, corny and woefully subdued (even as fifth graders, it's hard to imagine teenage campers not dropping casual swear words and talking about how much they love weed), but really, you can make that same criticism of ALL kids-based media between the years of 1984 and 1997. Still, old Zeke here remains one of the most memorable aspects of one of the more memorable TV shows of Nick's golden age. It's nostalgic, it's slightly unnerving, and it just reeks of pure, early '90s pop cultural goodness. 

That, and if there's a better way to get into the Halloween spirit than watching a morbidly obese teenager run around with a Jack O Lantern on his head, pal, I haven't been introduced to it.