Reality TV shows are the new soap operas (at least in America), and one of the more popular ones is The Bachelor, with its promise of a storybook romance that ends with a staged marriage proposal and, inevitably, a breakup. (None of the show's bachelors have ever gotten married to their paramours.) Season sixteen (!) of the show just finished, with terrible-haired bachelor Ben Flajnik choosing "winner" Courtney Robinson.

I understand the show's a guilty pleasure for millions who enjoy either the scenic locales, the manufactured fairy-tale stories, the humiliations, or the naive romanticism of it all, but it does cry out for satire. Enter David Spade, himself a forty-seven-year-old confirmed bachelor. (Who still looks like a high-school senior.) Recalling his uber-sarcastic, smart-alecky roles as the judgmental receptionist and "Hollywood Minute" host on SNL, Spade, in Ben Flajnik wig, throws political correctness to the wind Funny or Die-style, as he lays down the law to prospective rose-receivers. He comes off like a horny version of Alec Baldwin in Glengarry Glen Ross, articulating the lizard-brained thoughts that most dare not express. Greta Van Susteren would not be pleased.


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