My First Multi-Level Marketing Meeting

I didn’t think my joke yesterday translated on paper that well. That said, I also realized that I did like what I wrote from Day #1-#4, and so I shouldn’t be so hard on myself. Onto Day #6 and #7 of my 20-Day Writing Challenge!

Here’s a sound clip of today’s bit as it was coming into my head…

Getting Approached By MLM Guys

You guys ever get approached by these Multi-Level Marketing people? It’s usually the best dressed black guy in the mall at 11am (he’s not rich; he alternates between two suits).

An Introduction to MLM

If you’re unfamiliar with how MLM companies work, I’ll explain. It’s a business where you can sell a product while also having the privilege of hiring sales agents under you. When they sell, you get paid a small cut. It works like any sales department, really.

The Approach

Awhile ago, this guy approached me about a business opportunity. I should have known something was afoot because I was in the tubesocks section of zellers. Well-dressed, really charismatic…he invited me to come out to a meeting to check out a business opportunity or something, and I said why not..seemed like a nice guy. *bug-eyed look of worry*

The Meeting

And it’s…all black people, mostly guys. The first thing I noticed is how they’re dressed.

Well-Dressed…And Not So Well-Dressed

Some are well-dressed…others…

Some are dressed up in black guy suits…you know the black guy suits…mint green with the big ass tie that only goes to here…*half-way down chest* *show length like a west-indian shows length*

But it gets worse: you see, it’s often a rough transition from velour suits to business casual, know what I mean? Like, this guy was wearing a burberry tie but with red jeans on…this other guy was wearing a suit but had his chain hanging on the outside of his jacket…ugh…

Awwww Yeah! Here We Go Now! Powerpoint Up In This Bitch!

All of a sudden the lights go down, and the powerpoint presentation flashes on the screen. A booming voice goes,

Yeah…sometimes…

…I guess…

*Facial Expression of Doubt* But I look around, and everyone is like,

Black Guy 1: Uhhhhh huh!
Black Guy 2: Yeah…
Puff Daddy: All about the Benjamins, baby…
Black Guy 4: Word to big bird!

And now I’m starting to get excited! Yeah, fuck my job! Fuck my boss! Fuck white people!

*Stunned look* …What? Lollipops? And I look around to see if anyone is as perplexed as I am with this shift in consciousness, but their eyes are glued to the screen.

And the powerpoint is going in, you know!! Lollipops are flashing on the screen…checkerboard transitions, dissolve, diagonal venetian blinds…I didn’t know you could even do diagonal venetian blinds in Powerpoint…

But you were just talking about changing my life a second ago…how’d we end up here? I was totally onboard until you started talking about selling bullshit…

It’s at this point that I notice everyone has a lollipop in their mouth except for me…

[I'll flesh this bit out more in the future...I had too much fun putting this one together today!]

Building An Arsenal

One of the major benefits of writing a lot of material is that the physical act of putting pen to paper helps encode ideas into memory.

And while on stage, whether it’s through crowd work or improv, there will be often be opportunities to use these jokes that you haven’t polished yet. In this way, the act of voraciously and persisently writing material can be likened to building an arsenal of pistols to place in your holster Frank Castle-style, weapons you can can invoke when the situation beckons.

Lots in Transcription

Yesterday, I wrote a bit about my experience having my phone service cut off. It was funny at the time, but it just didn’t translate when I typed everything out…

I need to be wary about typing out bits…because even the most detailed stage directions are only simply pointing in the direction that they want the actor to go, not pointing at the desired end result itself. Spending too much time writing and not enough time on stage can result in an act that is heavy on words and light on visual appeal.

Players only love you when they’re playing,