The atmosphere of team story meetings at Sketch Republic is usually boisterous; with rude character drawings eventually covering the dry erase boards, sporadic games of desktop football, and random offerings of Red Vines and Pringles being passed around. But as management comes in and claims their seats it’s as quiet and composed as a church service.
Our noble leader, ‘Arnauld,’ who we privately refer to as Arnold Lord-King of BooFoo or Mojo Jojo, is rambling on that this next season is especially competitive with Netflix and Amazon getting in the cartoon market and how we have to up our game. So he’s here today to make sure we are at our creative best.
Do we resent him implying that we are lacking creatively and that somehow he’s going to inspire us to do better? Oh, King Boo-Foo, you have no idea. I can imagine the cartoony slingshots aimed at the buffoon, and huge anvils about to drop over his head, being conjured by the creatives in the room. The reality is that it actually feels like a soggy towel has just been thrown over us and the most productive thing he could do for this meeting is to return to his office as soon as possible.
Everyone turns and gives Brooke, our creative advocate and friend, a pleading look. Unfortunately she doesn’t take the bait and instead encourages him on. “So Arnauld, tell us about your new series idea based on the unique character you’ve developed.”
“Which is?” I boldly ask. This blowhard can’t be doing character and story development now or we are surely doomed. It’s as if I’ve signed up for a cruise on the Titanic.
Arnold stands and flips the protective flap over a drawing on matte board and then proceeds to hold it up for us to see. The image is of a cartoony, psychotic-looking black rooster with the orange thing on his head looking like floppy feathers slicked back. To make matters worse, he's got dark Rayban sunglasses and a heavy gold chain around his neck. “Team, let me introduce to you our next star…Sir Cocky! His full name is Sir Cocky Doodle Do.”
Everyone is silent for several long beats until someone breaks the silence with a loud laugh. “Ha! Cocky … Cocky Doodle Do?” Kevin, our group wild-man wearing the Beavis and Butthead shirt, spits out. “Oh man, you really had me going for a minute. I thought you were serious.”
Arnold’s eyes narrow as he glares at him. “I’m perfectly serious, Mr….” he turns to look at Brooke.
“Hughes,” she responds.
“You are serious?” my team director Joel asks, looking concerned.
The rest of the room sits stunned because for one, they assumed Arnold never watched our cartoons, let alone wanted to be involved in development, and two, it’s the stupidest, most offensive idea they’ve ever heard.
“I’m dead serious and you better be too. Because Sir Cocky Doodle Do, the rapping rooster is going to lift us out of our ratings rut. And he’s quite the ladies man, which all the moms watching with their kids will appreciate, right Brooke?” Arnauld turns to her waiting for her endorsement.
I look over at Brooke, who is biting her lip like she’s fighting back a laugh or a grimace—I can’t be sure. She finally nods at him, “Clearly you were inspired when you came up with that character, Arnauld.”
For a panicked moment I think that my dream-girl Brooke has gone over to the dark side, agreeing with this idiot just to make him happy, and I feel gutted. Brooke has always had integrity and outstanding taste in her cartoons and comics, so this leaves me wondering if she fell and hit her head since we last spoke. How can I love a woman so completely when she supports such low level ideas in this medium that I love so much?
Thankfully, my spirits are lifted when I glance up at her and she winks at me. I let out the breath I’ve been holding and tip my head at her with a concerned look. She mouths at me “it’s okay” and I have to believe in her. Anything less would just break my heart.
Our IT guy Chester, who is black, speaks up. “So this black Cock with a gold chain that dogs on women is a rapper?” He looks completely offended by the social misappropriation.
“He is! Isn’t that awesome Chester?” Arnauld says proudly. “Our big Cock lady’s-dude and bad ass rapper is hot stuff for our moms out there, and Sir Cocky Doodle Do is a big personality for the kids!”
Chester does not appear happy with his explanation and folds his arms over his chest. “Damn,” he hisses.
“And what exactly do you mean by cocky?” One of the girls asks with an arched eyebrow.
Arnauld shrugs. “You know, confident—he knows he’s hot stuff and a catch for any little chickadee out there, and he can charm their feathers off. He’s like that lover-boy skunk that was in those old cartoons.”
“Are you talking about Warner Bros.’ Pepe le Pew who was always going after Kitty?” Dani pipes in.
“Yeah that’s the one,” Arnauld agrees, apparently happy with the comparison.
“I don’t know about that,” Genna points out. “He was way too aggressive. That behavior won’t fly with the #MeToo generation.”
Arnauld makes a face like he can’t be bothered. “We can’t have a small minority define our initiatives.”
Small minority? He hears gasps and then eye daggers being thrown Arnauld’s way from every female attending – and most of the men too.
Brooke squeezes her eyes shut and pinches her fingers on the sides of her temples like she suddenly has a migraine, but Arnauld keeps rambling on.
“The show will take place on an urban farm right in the center of a big city like New York.”
“So it’s like if Central Park is a farm with this cocky rooster?” Dani asks in her most sarcastic tone.
King Boo-Foo’s eyes light up like he just hit the jackpot in Vegas. “Great idea! The farm will be deep in Central Park! Good work … what’s your name?” he asks Dani.
“Dani,” she says weakly.
He turns to Brooke, “Make note that I want her working on the pilot script.”
“But I’m a background artist,” Dani points out, giving me a panicked look.
He waves his hand in the air. “No matter! Great ideas can come from anyone.”
Dani’s face is rapidly losing color as she looks over at me with a wide-eyed look of panic. I shake my head in disbelief.
“Sir Cocky’s object of affection will be Chicky Chica, the smart-mouthed hottie from the hen house.”
“So how exactly is this a kid’s show?” Genna asks.
“Funny animals, cute songs and bright colors … all the things kids love!”
“As if that ogre has any idea what kids love,” Bruce mumbles next to me just loud enough for me to hear.
My stomach is churning at this point, and I can’t even look up when he reveals the Chicky Chica art. But when I glance over at Nick, our head writer, he looks like his head is going to explode. He pipes in: “Are there any Asians in this show? Because as long as we are offending entire ethnic groups we shouldn’t leave anyone out.” He leans back in his chair with a scowl and Arnold scowls back at him. “Watch your attitude. We aren’t offending anyone. “We're celebrating their cultures.”
“Sure you are,” responds Chester, shaking his head.
The whole room is the most somber I’ve ever seen it because it’s becoming clear that Arnold is not going to back down from this disaster of a concept.
“I read recently that cartoons perform best when they are written on two levels - one for adults and for kids. I’m so sure of Sir Cocky’s appeal that I’ve already trademarked, secured copyrights and had my lawyer send out some cease and desist letters to people who have used that name.”
“Someone else did a cartoon with a character called Cocky Doodle Doo?” Bruce, the other animation director in the room, asks, his voice laced with disbelief.
“Actually, it was a series of gay pornos that came out a few years ago, but we’re shutting them down.”
“Nice,” Kevin sarcastically mumbles with a frown.
Dani looks over at him dismayed since Kevin seems to be agreeing with the cease and desists.
“That series was one of my favs. Why do the creatives always end up getting screwed by greedy narcissists?” Kevin laments and Dani nods in agreement.