How To Succeed In Horror Business Without Really Trying
"I've got something to say!" Glenn Danzig bellowed. "I tried Wendy's new Southwest Avocado Chicken Sandwich today and it doesn't matter much to me as long as it comes with fries!"
"Cut!" the Director called. "Great take, Glenny Baby! Everybody reset, let's get the next commercial ready, the Mothers Against Drunk Driving spot!"
Danzig surveyed the studio around him, bright lights bouncing off the white backdrop behind him, blinding him to everything but the compromises he'd made that had put him in this very position. Why did he keep turning down all these offers for more Misfits reunion shows and tours? Did he really hate Jerry Only so much? Or did he just hate the idea of being able to afford the mortgage on his new house, a recently condemned and abandoned funeral parlor?
"You're up, Glenny!" the Director hollered.
Danzig shook his head, striding towards the set, looking like a defeated vampire who spent his whole life at the gym but managed to somehow never do a leg day.
"Mother! Tell your children not to drink and drive! This one tip could save their life! From imprisonment or fines, Mother! Mother! Don't want your kids to get a DUI! See them fail to walk in a straight line or get arrested on their prom night! Oh Mothers!"
The cameras began to move around Danzig, and for a moment he was transported to the only place where he was happy. So even though he was selling out hard, he made the decision then and there to just really lean the fuck into it.
"Not about to exceed my BAC! And if you wanna have a drink with me, then give my sober friend the keys! Until tomorrow! When I've finally sobered up, because there's nothing cool about driving drunk, and if you wanna drink responsibly then just listen to M-A-double-D!"
As the guitar solo of the backing track kicked in, Danzig began banging his head and whipping his long hair around. This was the closest he felt to being alive these days, and he was going to do everything he could to hold onto this moment.
"Aaaaaand cut! That's a wrap on Mothers Against Drunk Driving, great job everyone! That's it for today, same time back here tomorrow."
Danzig looked around desperately, his moment now seized from him. "Hey, Darren, I've got a few more takes in me if we need them, you know? We don't really wanna just one and done the MADD spot, do we?" Danzig begged the Director, failing to mask his desperation.
"Glenn baby, you're a natural. We never even need a second take with you for safety. Oh, take a look at these, we'll be starting these in tomorrow's block." The Director handed Danzig a packet of scripts before placing a hand on Danzig's shoulder. "I know this isn't what you're used to, I know you miss walking these streets at night, and I know that the maggots in the iron lung still won't copulate or whatever, but that was the old Danzig. Maybe it's time for something new, y'know?"
The Director looked at his watch. "Wow. 1:38! We gotta be back here in six hours, I'm going home. I'll see you in the morning, Glenny."
The Director walked away as Danzig sighed heavily to himself. He looked at the first shooting script for a Häagen-Dazs commercial. A smile slowly formed as he imagined himself on a stage, belting out the words to this newest spot.
"If you want ice cream, scream with me for the sweet taste of Häagen-Dazs!"
40 years ago, Glenn Danzig never imagined that this was where his life would've taken him. But for the first time in 40 years, he was beginning to understand that what he wanted wasn't skulls or the insemination of little girls or anything as horrifying and graphic as those things he used to sing about. He was tired of moments like this that never last, and starting today, he was going to do something about it. His life had brought him to this moment, and he wasn't going to let it slip away.
"I may be a sellout," he chuckled to himself. "But I ain't no goddamn son of a bitch."
Dustin is a comedian, writer, and failed musician.