2008feb26. Mail. Very old.
Dear Editors ...
My name is [name], and I am a professional journalist in [city, state]. I would like to interest you in a story proposal for the no-holds-barred Mixed Martial Arts event known as Ultimate Fighting. [Organization is having a match here in [city] on [date]. I will have access to the fighters and anyone else I need. A piece on this sport and how it is sweeping the nation will be right up your alley, as an entertainment paper. [ ... ] I would like to introduce this event to Cardhouse’s readers who are unfamiliar with it, and find a unique perspective for those who already enjoy it. [ ... ]
I think most of my readers are very familiar with Ultimate Fighting. I think half of my readers have probably participated in Ultimate Fighting one way or another, even if that simply means breaking a chair over a co-worker’s head during lunch. Those crazy Cardhouse readers! I tell ya.
Please let me know if you would be interested. I can work from any angle: the show, the fighters, the behind-the-scenes people, the safety aspect, the male fans, the female fans. Whatever you need, I can do it.
These all sound pretty standard to me. What I’m looking for here is something new and exciting, a completely different perspective. If you’ll indulge me, let me set up the scenario in which [NAME] becomes the story:
First, you’ll need a bear costume, and some kind of flying harness, like the ones used for stage productions of “Peter Pan.” My shaky understanding of Ultimate Fighting is that the whole ring is enclosed in what I’m remembering as an eight-foot high fence, so no one escapes. That keeps the contestants in, but it’s not going to keep you, [NAME], out. Okay, now, you’re going to have to gain the confidence of the floor manager of the Ultimate Fighting competition. I don’t know how you’re going to do this – but you’re a journalist, you can figure out a way. Slip him a twenty to rig up the flying harness in advance of the fight. You might want to also have it obscured by banners and flowery foo-faa, so as not to attract attention.
So now, the fight’s started. Here’s where the fun begins, and I’m sure you’ve already anticipated where I’m going with this. You would wait until both contestants are good and bloody, all slicked up with the red juice, okay? The crowd is going nuts, they want more blood, and you just go off to one side of the stadium, put on the bear costume, attach yourself to the harness (you might have to some “practice runs” at rehearsal), and zip right over the ring. You of course would then drop into the ring, and from here, well, there are several options, but let’s consider two:
1) The logical (yet nonsensical) imitating-a-bear display of growling, attempting to maul one or both contestants, more growling, etc.
2) Standing on your hind legs, grabbing the microphone, making an impassioned plea to stop the violence, in the name of the animal kingdom.
I’m sure you can think of more scenarios here – or, perhaps you could just wing it. You never know what could happen when your adrenaline starts pumping and you’re wearing a bear costume in the middle of an Ultimate Fighting match.
The pay is ten dollars for the completed story. Good luck.
