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HOLLYWOOD - In a somewhat startling move that appears to have caught many industry sideliners completely off guard - especially those with either too much at stake in the immediate future and/or significantly less than the advised 20/20 with regards to seeing beyond what's left of any sort of once proud, reasonably understood, big picture - veteran TV comedy/variety show producer, C.F. "George" Vladivostok ("The Sandra Beach DeSoto Show," "Sis-Boom-Ya!," "Crazy 6 & 7/8's," "Real Dobermans," "Please, Pull This!," and "The Annual Western Hemisphere Cavalcade Of Humor Awards Show") has apparently inked a lucrative, one-shot, pay or play deal with Simple Sime-Time/End Of Days, Ltd., which puts him at the would-be helm of any possible post-apocalyptic, end-of-humanity (and all other forms of life) on planet Earth (as we have come to know it) awards show. Tentatively scheduled to roll out whenever finally needed, if not sooner than that, "The Endies" (as they hopefully will forever be thereafter referred to, rather than as initially planned, "The History of Human Achievement on Earth Awards") will provide a more or less necessary celebratory humanized summation that, as specifically designed by Vladivostok and his longtime legendary crack team of award-winning anniversary/retrospective/variety show pros, should indeed offer up an altogether stirring, and appropriately everlasting, final salute look back at what in the world just went down, Earth-wise, and then some, during the extended stretch of teamed-up time we, the people, were collectively on watch, and otherwise afforded the extraordinary opportunity to be, more or less, left in somewhat temporary charge of steering our no-place-like-home ship, so to speak, to its inevitable would-be final-like solution conclusion. "No doubt about it, this is a deal of a lifetime," raved Vladivostok, during a rare moment of unexpected calm deep within the comfy shrouded confines of his now super busy West Hollywood production office. "It's just too bad that for something as special as this to finally kick off, into any sort of reasonably coherent reality for all to hopefully enjoy, it's going to wind up taking the game-over extinguishing of all humanity to, you know, in the end, realize such a no-brainer of a sure thing dream. But, well, what can you do? Since by then that'll be just about the only deal of the day left standing. I mean, of course, after we're through looking in the mirror one last time, just long enough to pretend we didn't somehow get our hair mussed." Meanwhile, despite the current thought to be long-range time-wise window until such a grand open-mouth kiss-off finale might necessarily be called on to unwind itself accordingly, Vladivostok and company have quickly chosen to operate under the assumption that, given the present state of worldwide turmoil, fiscal uncertainly, and anything but appropriately civilized manners in an ever increasing variety of both near and far regional locales, there exists the ever present lingering possibility that their big, splashy, thank-you-note to planet Earth (and, of course, the way we once upon all the time were while spinning along with it) might potentially be rushed into full blown production mode with, it would seem, very little lead time before the whole gloriously inclined last act shebang would be required to be up and running for real, with, hopefully, a little more than just the usual song and dance (and/or over-stuffed, yet useless, goody bag) to properly entertain the all inclusive assortment of diversely assembled blank and distant stares, before any eventual full and complete animal, vegetable, and mineral post-life dispersion is ultimately achieved, and, thereafter forever placed in a finalized state of "thanks for playing along" un-turnaround. "It's definitely a tall order. And, certainly one we aren't about to take lightly," cautioned Vladivostok, while overseeing the now daily re-stocking of his subterranean storage vault with extra shipments of Hawaiian Punch, Calvin Klein Low Rise Hip Briefs, and Korean grown kumquats. "And because of this, earlier today I had the painless task of having someone here at the office make an emergency call to Howard Feller to inform him that, as of now, there's no chance that either I, nor any of my customarily well compensated and provided for hangers-on's, will be able to assist him any further with his current project, 'My Three Son Of A Fun Guns.'" Loosely based on the strange but true, yet entirely wacky, mid-'80s summertime misadventures of comedians Jon Stewart, Freddie Stoller and Colin Quinn, while they did laugh out loud double-time duties as indentured weekend performers, and full-time Long Island cabana boys, for legendary New York comedy club maven, Caroline Hirsch, "My Three Son Of A Fun Guns" has only recently been given some strong consideration by HBO, plus, two sorta thumbs-up from extra-hot "It" girl, Megan Fox, who, as luck and an uncertain amount of hubba-hubba fate would have it, appeared to genuinely like (except for the female lead who came off too much like Carol Leifer, instead of the actual true life inspiration - Judy Gold) Feller's lengthy pilot script, when it was read to her by an otherwise attentitive CAA underling during a flight from New York to L.A. because she, Fox, was under the mistaken assumption that he, Feller, was dour-faced, heavily eye-browed, manic madman, Ben Stiller, when, as it happened, he accidentally just dropped said script as he abruptly exited the first class restroom and rushed past her to return to his seat in coach after the pilot had apparently put the seatbelt light back on due to some soon to be arriving turbulence, while he, Feller, was otherwise indisposed utilizing the in-flight facilities. But now, with Vladivostok's quick exit from Feller's dream project all but written in stone (and, as such, no doubt soon to be permanently etched across the burly forehead of mutual business manager, G. Alfredo Garcia) it's back to the drawing board (and a small, largely unfurnished hovel in Kew Gardens) for the lanky, awkward featured, former sidekick announcer of "The Jon Stewart Show," the now highly regarded, yet then seldom seen, '90s-era yuk-it-up talk-show gig, that the toplining William and Mary educated funnyman was momentarily preoccupied with during a brief wide spot in his hilarious road show assent to super duper stardom, just prior to his eventual industry-wide anointment as Chairman of All Faux News and (Wink-Wink/Nudge-Nudge) Knucklehead Commentary, via his long running, award-winning association with Comedy Central mainstay, the Winstead/Smithberg created, "The Daily Show." "I'm certain that, given the nature of most of our past successful associations (Vladivostok and Feller co-own several lucrative New Jersey area urology clinics, plus, one muffler shop in West New York that recently was shut down following a shoot out between rival Cuban gangs attempting to otherwise settle an ongoing squabble that originated during a hotly contested CYO soccer match in nearby Cliffside Park) Howard fully appreciates the rock and hard place I'm presently in, what with having just assumed full Executive Producer responsibility for "The Endies," and all it might possibly turn into. Especially now that both Leo DaVinci and Mike Todd have seen fit to throw in their towels and jump ship, after having taken so many full-swing turns at burying one of Lizzie Borden's lesser used hatchets into each other following their initial pre-pre-show start-up dispute about what to do with already locked-in Robert Schumann if, as rumored, Johannes Brahms keeps insisting on showing up to the big last dance party just long enough to cause some more of his typically lyrical, yet tortured as all get the "F" out of Dusseldorf, sort of not-so-hidden romantic stink." Vladivostok went on to assure anyone (not yet already in the process of answering any incoming texts, or following whoever's latest Twitter, about the not-so-surprising short-fall weekend gross of "Robin Hood") that even if HBO bails (as might be expected considering their sometime tenuous, at best, relationship with Feller ever since his abortive attempt several years back to sell his "Three Wise David's Holiday Showcase Spectacular " - a jaw-dropping Christmas special featuring the somewhat nauseating musical, vocal, and just plain peculiar stylings of David Foster, David Johansen, and David Lynch - to the premium cable television network, after Vladivostok - who had exited under similar rush-rush conditions, mainly because either Lola Falana or Vic Damone had apparently returned one of his many calls - was replaced at the last minute by sleepy-eyed bowling buddy, Steve Mittleman) there's still an outside chance someone at either Showtime, FX, or TV Land might step in and keep things alive and swell for Feller, and, in turn, far, far away from the nearest lost and never found shelf. So, considering the caught-with-your-pants-down alternative (something Vladivostok has repeatedly found a way to more or less avoid, ever since a well documented weaker than usual late '60s moment when his first wife Connie Consuelo found him doing anything but card tricks - actually it was his then traditional party stopping "One-Armed Violin Player" bit, sans slacks, and everything else, except for his nattily bearded, fox-in-the-hen-house-grin - for the late-night benefit of water-logged "Laugh-In" chanteuse Judy Carne, while each did what they could to pass some upstairs downtime at the Rosarito Beach Hotel during what was supposed to be the taping of a Jim Nabors TV special for NBC) it's no wonder that, until further notice, Vladivostok and his trusty production staff are quite prepared to remain scurrying every which way as they sort through a series of highly exhaustive lists, clip reels, and news clippings in search of just the right person (or persons) to properly host such an end-of-all-time gathering to, you guessed it, mark the end of all, like time. Surprisingly enough they are: