The next day, Joe sat on his white couch with Hex at his shoulder and the ferrets posing for the camera from a basket half-full of yarn at his side. Tami was puttering around in the kitchen, ready for a quick-eats segment, and Jean was directing this episode. That was because they’d needed all the processing they could spare for spider chases. Joe needed exactly 29 minutes to make his pitch and he wasn’t putting it past Dr. Psychodumpbucket to overextend his authoritative reach. Their latest updates had given them a little extra help on that count. They saw the key words that spiders were tagging as they tagged them. Joe's speech was carefully formed to avoid those key words and they were posting at 2am. They’d replay it later during peak hours.
They cued him in, and he smiled for the cameras.
“It’s official folks,” Joe broke the fourth wall, like they’d changed format to a talk show. “Your favorite show, Just Joe, has been picked up by one of those big cable channels and we’re happy to announce that as of next month, we’ll be broadcasting from the Supernatural Channel!”
Viewers – 3,256,240
Dr. Psychodirtbag got a very small blip whenever they made announcements, but this announcement would likely put him right back to sleep. They’d tested this and announced the same thing the night before, only they’d said it was in the works instead of a done deal.
Joe got a thumbs up from Jean, which meant that his little spider had indeed scanned the title and considered it close enough to their previous announcement to not rush off to report him.
“But I’ve got to say, I feel like I’m doing you a big disservice to run off to a paid network, so I’m not going for another month,” Joe looked down at his hands and had to remind himself to look back up at the cameras. “As most of you know from our previous announcement, we’ve delayed this move for as long as we could because we value you as customers. I can’t tell you how amazed I am that you all tuned in and supported little old me.”
“We appreciate your support,” Hex blinked slowly, her text scrolling across the bottom of their screen. “But we’re in trouble.”
“With a capital T and that rhymes with P and that stands for where I’m broadcasting from,” Joe finished for her, because Trouble was one of those key words, but it had to be followed by something alarming by the same character. Hex could say it, but Joe couldn’t. None of the AIs could say the word “prison” or any synonym for it. Joe could, but it would be flagged by censors and Dr. Psychobuffoon.
“Yeah, I’m one of those picked up for not fitting in, if you know what I mean,” Joe skirted another tangle of words that would get them in trouble. “I’m thinking there are at least a few of you out there a little like me. We like reading books and keeping to ourselves for the most part, right? I mean, if you’re not, that’s okay, but me? I’d go to work, keep my head down, and get by paying the bills and eating Top Ramen most of the time and some form of potato.”
Viewers – 3,506,372
The spider quivered and Joe gave it some time to settle down by patting the stack of books at his side. They were the ones he’d stolen from the bookstore and never had a chance to read. Jean was letting him know with a wiggle of her hand. Kodo took that moment to fling a ball of string at the camera with Podo and himself chasing around to bundle it back up into the basket much worse for wear. That’s right, they were using pet video highlights to fool the doctor’s spider into remaining calm and still keep viewer retention. It was Hex’s idea as she’d become obsessed with her own version of a fan club. As Jean gave a thumbs up, Kodo and Podo resumed their position in the basket with Hex reaching out to bat a string off Podo’s head.
“We’ve hit our 2 million mission, but some people don’t appreciate the show as much as most of you,” Joe admitted, pointing out the scrolling bar at the bottom of the screen that the audience could see. About half of Dr. Psychodouchebag’s rating bombs had been neutralized, but the bare truth was that it didn’t take much to tank their ratings and the doctor was getting new folks every day to do it. “The staff here at Just Joe has decided to run a telethon, both to help us get to our real aspiration of endearment of you out there and to help our brothers and sisters who are also in a similar situation.
“Our destination is in view,” Joe continued, waving to their displayed rating system. “We’re all going to need your help to get there. My friend the skunk needs people like you to just give him a chance. He’s here because he couldn’t make friends and now, he needs your friendship to prove that he’s not such a bad guy. I’m happy to sponsor him, but I’m not allowed to do it. You are! Shouldn’t you do it before some of you have no say like us?”
Jean waggled her hand in a C-shape, and Joe pressed his lips together. Dr. Psychoscumbucket couldn’t stop them from helping each other with cross promotion, but they weren’t supposed to allude to their incarceration or the terms of their release. The C-waggle was for censorship.
Viewers – 3,787,807
It was working. The show screen only showed the first digit with two decimals of their current average rating. Joe's display showed five more decimal points and people were hitting the stars. Some of them were getting it already. Hex hit the handle of the ferret basket with a fun little bounce as she started that kitty/ferret-train of zoomies. They let the censors settle back as they alertly watched the play as the scene cut all the way to the focal wall’s playroom for a few minutes. Joe took the time to rewind the yarn.
“The mission of this telethon is to hit our destination with twice two,” and Joe held up two fingers on each hand next to each other,” for this stat. Kodo propped himself up on the rating score (thank you special effects for the added sparklers around it and its illusion of sustenance in their world), and mugged for the camera. “Let’s get that mark for my buddy Cowboy Magnum, before he gets shot again!”
“Thanks so much, pardner,” he drawled out from where he was nursing a bandaged elbow behind a leaking water trough. “I know I’d rather be reading one of those books of yours like I used to do.” That was followed by that sparkling smile.
“Dodge those bombs, my friend,” Joe hinted to the audience, betting on their savviness. The Production AIs were hedging that bet by showing an animated 0.5 star painted on an Acme bomb that crashed into their ratings and downed them by a fictional amount. It was only for the effect, with Joe's real numbers still going up, but the audience would get the point. Right? It was technically illegal to ask for ratings, but they could hint.
There was an extra benefit to Joe's viewers popping off to another show and coming back. Views/Viewers weren’t tabulated by individuals but rather by every click into the show. If they clicked on Cowboy Magnum and then came back, they changed from the one click that just tuned in to the two clicks of going and coming back. It should have been called views, but it wasn’t because shows wanted to pretend that every click was a new person and that looked better for them. For once, a marketing ploy was working for Joe.
Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
Viewers – 4,088,920
“There’s just one thing I’d like to ask,” Joe leaned forward to show earnestness. “I know what it’s like to be broke and we Top Ramen folks need to stick together, so I’m saying to you, don’t pay any attention to these commercials we’re going to run while you are off helping out my cowboy friend. I mean it. Just don’t click on it. It’s not worth a thing to me until we hit our mark, if you know what I mean.”
The deal with Top Ramen was to say their product name at least three times per hour of episodes. When Joe said the brand name, a small PiP would take up the lower right corner of their screen for twenty seconds. He had similar contracts, thanks to Dr. Psychobutt, with Simon Cat Toys, who required that Hex mention them as her favorite toys at least once an episode, and Parson Realtors, who wanted Joe to urge people to donate their unused real estate to a church that was dedicated to flipping houses instead of asking their flock to pay tithing.
The contracts that the bad doctor had sent were set up so that if Joe said no to the ad contract, he would have to explain in person to a personal representative of the ad company. Joe had agreed to one of those meetings, which turned out to be a time-wasting 4 hour wait in the parole hearing room for a guy to finally come through on a grungy monitor. Ten minutes later, the whining sales guy logged off with no contract, but Joe’s rating had been dismal by the time he could return to his pod. For the rest of the contracts, Joe had just accepted the most minimum of terms and agreed to advertise.
“That reminds me,” Joe snapped his fingers and all the pets perked up like treats were being served. “I’ve got a secret, but I can’t tell it to you all until that number becomes more than one plus one doubled.” AIs were notoriously bad at math and spiders were very small AIs. Unfortunately, so were humans sometimes. Luckily, Joe had enough smart viewers that they got the point. 3.76 became 3.81.
“Why don’t you hop on over to my friend Charlotte’s show?” Joe changed the subject at Jean’s regular hand waggle that meant the doctor’s spider was getting suspicious. “She is the sweetest librarian you’ll ever meet, but thanks to our world’s oversight committee, she’s now playing a romantic and busty librarian in a fairy tale workshop.”
“Hi, Joe,” Charlotte purred, her little cat ears flicking flirtatiously. He’d won her over with his other shoutouts. “We have a mash-up of Puss and Boots with a little bit of Rapunzel on our next episode. Tune in to meet my newest romantic conquest.” Did Joe mention Charlotte was anime and while they weren’t allowed other than a PG rating, she skirted that edge with very large, animated cat boobs that somehow dodged the sexual situations thing.
“You can’t tell me that you don’t want to see who climbs up her tower this time!” Joe quipped. A dozen spiders went spinning away on that one and he rolled his eyes. The spiders they were watching stayed put. That was what was important. Joe inflated her screen to focus on those boobs on the excuse of using the iris transition to close her window out. Charlotte was the one who’d told Joe about the pathetic bribes that Dr. Psychoimbecile was offering other inmates to tank his ratings. Some of them had done it for no more than a piece of candy out of that stupid dish. When he’d let her know about the cook co-star thing, she’d smacked her forehead and left him with a slam of a red door.
Viewers – 4,401,129
“I’m spreading the word on your tips too,” Charlotte winked at Joe, and he saw it even though her window had irised out. She’d taught Joe that what wasn’t onscreen wasn’t broadcast and they’d jumped in and out of segments with her to have a very broken but enlightening conversation. Everybody had some loophole to help them cope. That explained a few of the reversed ratings on folks Joe hadn’t been able to connect with. Charlotte, the marvelously smart librarian, was trading Joe’s secrets for reversals on his rating bombs.
“I love Charlotte and will be watching her even when I get out of my current contracts and into that Supernatural Channel,” and Joe knew he shouldn’t have gone adlib, when Jean winced at him. That spider was off and running to wake up a very grumpy doctor. Poor thing hadn’t gotten enough sleep in a few nights now with how that spider kept waking him up in the middle of the night.
“My next beloved friend is Aida, the alter ego of Annie who got sucked out of the world and into a phone game,” Joe let another PiP pop up. “How’s the love life going?”
“It’s not as easy to get Sue, our heroine, to pick a guy as it looks in the games!” Aida gave a woosh of her wand as she swirled water into a weapon.
“I see you’re practicing for your next match,” Joe motioned to her waterworks in admiration.
“Catching up on this magic stuff is easier than getting Sue to choose,” Aida laughed, and her water collapsed. “But it’s still so challenging. I wish I had a bigger mana pool!”
“I think you’re doing great!” Joe tried to be encouraging. “Go show her how great she’s doing! Get in there and remember to follow so you get updates on new episodes!”
“Thanks Joe!” Aida waved a wand toward the screen, and it melted away under water and ice.
“So, here’s another commercial for Simon Cat Toys,” Joe rushed to put in, but the damage was done. “Because cat toys work for bunnies too, don’t they Shelby?”
“I love those cat toys from Simon Cat Toys,” Shelby enthused, her furry ears twitching happily. Now she would also be paid for the endorsement and Joe's endorsement counted as two.
“Is that a sea bunny on your shoulder or are you just happy to see me?” Joe went on as if that stupid spider wasn’t running to tattle on him. He’d used up his quota of emergency pulls, but would he be able to override that for a mention of contracts that was really vague? Joe was hoping that he’d need more. He’d just have to be more careful. They were almost there with a 3.89 star rating.
Viewers – 4,721,294
“It’s both, Joe!” Shelby nearly bounced with excitement. “My little sea bunny may not be able to keep up with your ferrets in a kitty train, but it’s smashing the cuteness factor!”
“One of these days, we’re going to have to set up some bat to ferret races,” Joe laughed with her. “I’ll bet my ferrets could beat you by at least FOUR seconds!” Joe shamelessly pointed at the star rating. They were running out of time. It wouldn’t take long for that pompous blowhard to rub the sleep out of his eyes and tune in.
“I’m in!” Shelby pointed a paw at Joe, and the little mouse-like costar beside her did the same. Her other pet was a cute fruit bat that would probably totally outpace even Kodo, but Joe'd made his point as it slid up to 3.91.
Joe had double his two million viewers. All he needed was that last .09 rating to bump up. It’s not like Dr. Psychodirtbag could snag other inmates out of their beds at 2:15 in the morning to get more of them dumping new 0.5 star reviews out there.
“Thanks to Simon Pet Toys for our friendship, right Shelby?” Joe ended the segment on a careful note. He might be able to rewind, but he couldn’t watch the past and the future at once.
“Right!” and her PiP window was smashed out of view by an Acme anvil with their current rating score on it and sparklers.
“And if you, my loyal viewers who know better by now, ever have a pesky piece of property you just want to throw away,” Joe announced, infusing it with emotional resonance that clashed with the commercial, “you can call Parson Realtors who will take it off your hands and turn a profit reselling it with a new coat of paint. Don’t forget, they would offer tax deductions, but they made too much money last year to be an official non-profit, so you just need to do it because you believe that they believe in God.”
Jean winced, but that spider had sailed. If Joe was going to get yanked off the air, he needed to have those endorsements done before he sputtered out. If he didn’t do them as scheduled, there were monetary penalties that extended into the real world.
“Hey Tami,” Joe called to the kitchen. “How’s that Top Ramen coming?”
“I tossed out the seasoning pack and replaced it with a recipe all our viewers can download for free when we hit the Supernatural Channel, and we all know how to make that happen, right?” Tami winked and their rating of 3.93 blinked on the screen, changing to 3.94 with sparklers as Tami waved the list tauntingly to her foodies out there. It went up again. There were a lot of foodies. “On the Supernatural Channel, we’ll be able to invite special viewers in to taste my creations themselves!”
Viewers – 5,065,170
That did it. 4.0 and still climbing!