Twilight Zone Recycled Again

So they’re bringing back “Twilight Zone”. Again.
They’re even repeating the old episodes that worked so well 50 years ago. Again.

I say if you’re going with a revamp, change it all. Call it “Toilet Zone” and make it an anthology about plumbers; called to haunted houses, attacked by ghosts when they try to modernize an outhouse, etc.

Let’s bring back “Gunsmoke” …. but update it: “Gunsmokeless”, because the time travelling Marshal Dillinger uses 21st century gunpowder, and a Beretta autoloader to win those quick draws, his Kevlar vest swatting away the projectiles from 19th century Peacemakers.

“Have Buns Will Travel” features a conflicted male dancer, who puts away his tap shoes each week to rescue people in Show Biz, whose talents are stifled by mean spirited agents and show producers whose “Me Too Horny” movement must be crushed between the muscled thighs of the black clad Palomino.

Three day tour, you say? Not if you’re washed up on the shores of “Gilligan’s Island of the Damned”. Comedy ensues when the undead attack to eat Gilligan’s brains …. only to discover he doesn’t have any, leaving it to the professor each week, to find new ways of dispatching the zombie hordes more numerous than coconuts.

“Route 99” … Tod and Buzz prowl the highways of America in their convertible Tesla, tilting at actual windmills as they fight polluters and oil barons intent on making the country into one gigantic asphalt parking lot.

“Madame 12”. Hookers as street cops? Who better to know the … ahem … ins and outs of the city’s flea bitten underbelly. Summoned by cell phone, these hard body professionals give “call girls” an entirely new spin while taking a bite out of crime. (“Is that a gun in your pants, tough guy, or do you just get off on purse snatching?”)

Stand up isn’t new … that’s the premise for our first season of “Maver-Schtick” about a rogue pair of 19th century brothers, Brett and Bart, who travel the western circuit, the first to combine card tricks with never before heard comedy routines, “I just flew in from Tombstone, and boy are my arms tired,” Ba DUMP bump!

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