Yes, I'm linking to Jim. Author. Music journalist. Emmy Winner. Artist. Designer. Comic book writer. With Tom Fassbender, started his own publishing company Ugly Town which now spews forth original crime fiction of the old-school pulp/noir tradition.
Not only is Jim a perfect example of mini-branding and 4GM, he's a disturbingly natty dresser. Seriously, he is the only human I know who could carry a sword cane and somehow pull it off.
Go check it out.
Saturday, April 23, 2005
Writing: Jargon Preservation 3
Some new ones, including a few from the drama side, a few more used in the room rather than actually seen on the show, and a few that are just too cool to let go regardless of how wide-spread they are. Thanks to all for the comments and e-mails.
"a blow": A joke strong enough to end the scene on. In drama, also a plot development or reaction strong enough to end the scene on. The point is, you're going to the theater equivalent of a blackout when leave a scene. You want to keep your sense of momentum up. Usually heard in the context of: "Yeah, it's funny, but let's take five minutes to beat that blow."
"the Two-Two": a couple names here, but this one was invented by David Landsberg, originally referencing a specific scene on our show -- Act Two, Scene Two. After all the setup of the first Act, you'd come back from the Act break with a recap scene, and to make sure all your ducks were in a row (Act One, Scene One) so you could unleash the big "and now all the comedy coincidences and motivations collide" scene -- Act Two, Scene Two. The Two-Two eventually came to mean the climactic big-funny scene in any sitcom regardless of its actual show position. Anything after the Two-Two was epilogue, fallout, wrap-up, whatever.
"the Winona Ryder": A sappy or inappropriate voice-over, based on Winona Ryder's old lady POV in Edward Scissorhands.
"French it.": to solve a transition or blocking problem with a French Scene. Sadly, many TV writers have no theater training -- and so the following definition is in order ...
"French scene": Creating a new scene purely through a new configuration of characters (based on a tradition from 17th Century classical French drama). Stay in the same locale/set, move different characters through. This is very useful on sitcoms, where you have a limited number of sets, and any time you can French the scene, you just saved yourself a setup and lighting. A false origin of this term comes from the use of French doors on a set to indicate an inside/outside, through which you can move lots of actors organically in and out of the set.
"phlebotonum": The placeholder word for the magic thingie/spell/ hoo-haa needed in a script, used until the internal logic of the magic/sci-fi setting can be applied.
From Buffy. Although the idea that Trek writers had a place-holder phrase for the Trek science talk in every script turned out to be untrue, this one is well-documented. And, with the exodus of Buffy/Angel writers to other shows (they all should have been MINE on Global, but we'll just let that go...), it's spreading fast and into other contexts.
"break the story": Lay out the plot structure of an episode.
I'm a little surprised that I got requests of the "whaddya call" nature for this, but here you go. I understand the confusion -- there's a slight difference in how a newbie would think this should be used as opposed to how it is used. You would think it's in the context of "break the episode down to its component parts." Well, yes, but it's almost always used in the active sense, where you break a story that doesn't exist yet. A writer has an idea, he brings it into the room, and often he and the rest of the writers break the story together.
"That's a show saver": a picayune note or suggestion, really made for the sake of contributing rather being actually helpful. The other writers are slaving away trying to fix dialogue, character, plot, and you just fixed some punctuation. Never used in positive sense. Level of scorn in delivery directly proportional to how shittily the rewrite's going. Often used under your breath re: an executive's note.
One can make a correction in a script and save oneself the scorn by announcing "Got a show saver" first, much like saying "j'adoube" in chess." Example: "Got a show saver. They should be entering from the kitchen, not upstairs."
"Bail on the pitch": when pitching, do so without enthusiasm or half-heartedly. Usually done when you realize half-way through that the idea's dumb -- you're bailing out of the idea, like parachuting from a burning plane. "Wow. Way to bail on the pitch."
"house number": a suggestion that you know isn't the fix to a problem, but is in the neighborhood of the fix. Q.E.D. "house number." Applies to everything from individual jokes to entire plot points. You know that this suggestion might seem vague -- or even suck -- but you're just fishing around here, and this might help.
"the bad version": Now, this is tricky. When an executive is flailing around for a suggestion they believe solves a problem in a script, they'll often say "This is the bad version", and give you the hacky/trite solution that points to what's bothering them. They are attempting to call the mulligan of a "house number", but are unaware of the terminology. Also, this is almost always truly bad, where a house number can also be vague.
Led to one of the most beautiful moments in television. (I'm paraphrasing, but it was years ago) On a sitcom, a young executive said "Here's the bad version..." At which point the star, Damon Wayans, said "Don't give me the bad version. They paying you to sit there and think of the bad version? Give me the good version or shut up."
On hearing that story, sitcom writers to a one will smile, curl into a ball and roll around in joy.
"the Rock and Roll": the fine art of all the actors on a set lurching (in perfect coordination) back and forth while acting out a collision, or, explosion, or say, the strike of photon torpedoes against one's port shields. We're waiting on the name of this used on the Trek sets, but this is the original phrase used on the old Irwin Allen shows, so they get points for precedence.
"the idiot ball": On a sitcom, demarks the character who's misunderstanding of a situation or comment - and his predicate bad decisions -- fuels the comedy of the episode. That character is "carrying the idiot ball" for the episode.
As far as I know, this is one of the most specific phrases on the list. Not particularly widespread, but so beautiful, it deserves dissemination. Invented by Hank Azaria on Herman's Head. Hank would ask the writing staff "who's carrying the idiot ball this week?" Note that this is not a compliment. The person carrying the idot ball is often acting out of character, or misunderstanding something that could be cleared up by a single reasonable question that they're not asking solely because the writers don't want him too. It's almost as if the character is being willfully stupid or obtuse.
Enjoy. The origin of "the No/akamura" is still being plumbed. We'll report (breathlessly) as we discover more.
"a blow": A joke strong enough to end the scene on. In drama, also a plot development or reaction strong enough to end the scene on. The point is, you're going to the theater equivalent of a blackout when leave a scene. You want to keep your sense of momentum up. Usually heard in the context of: "Yeah, it's funny, but let's take five minutes to beat that blow."
"the Two-Two": a couple names here, but this one was invented by David Landsberg, originally referencing a specific scene on our show -- Act Two, Scene Two. After all the setup of the first Act, you'd come back from the Act break with a recap scene, and to make sure all your ducks were in a row (Act One, Scene One) so you could unleash the big "and now all the comedy coincidences and motivations collide" scene -- Act Two, Scene Two. The Two-Two eventually came to mean the climactic big-funny scene in any sitcom regardless of its actual show position. Anything after the Two-Two was epilogue, fallout, wrap-up, whatever.
"the Winona Ryder": A sappy or inappropriate voice-over, based on Winona Ryder's old lady POV in Edward Scissorhands.
"French it.": to solve a transition or blocking problem with a French Scene. Sadly, many TV writers have no theater training -- and so the following definition is in order ...
"French scene": Creating a new scene purely through a new configuration of characters (based on a tradition from 17th Century classical French drama). Stay in the same locale/set, move different characters through. This is very useful on sitcoms, where you have a limited number of sets, and any time you can French the scene, you just saved yourself a setup and lighting. A false origin of this term comes from the use of French doors on a set to indicate an inside/outside, through which you can move lots of actors organically in and out of the set.
"phlebotonum": The placeholder word for the magic thingie/spell/ hoo-haa needed in a script, used until the internal logic of the magic/sci-fi setting can be applied.
From Buffy. Although the idea that Trek writers had a place-holder phrase for the Trek science talk in every script turned out to be untrue, this one is well-documented. And, with the exodus of Buffy/Angel writers to other shows (they all should have been MINE on Global, but we'll just let that go...), it's spreading fast and into other contexts.
"break the story": Lay out the plot structure of an episode.
I'm a little surprised that I got requests of the "whaddya call" nature for this, but here you go. I understand the confusion -- there's a slight difference in how a newbie would think this should be used as opposed to how it is used. You would think it's in the context of "break the episode down to its component parts." Well, yes, but it's almost always used in the active sense, where you break a story that doesn't exist yet. A writer has an idea, he brings it into the room, and often he and the rest of the writers break the story together.
"That's a show saver": a picayune note or suggestion, really made for the sake of contributing rather being actually helpful. The other writers are slaving away trying to fix dialogue, character, plot, and you just fixed some punctuation. Never used in positive sense. Level of scorn in delivery directly proportional to how shittily the rewrite's going. Often used under your breath re: an executive's note.
One can make a correction in a script and save oneself the scorn by announcing "Got a show saver" first, much like saying "j'adoube" in chess." Example: "Got a show saver. They should be entering from the kitchen, not upstairs."
"Bail on the pitch": when pitching, do so without enthusiasm or half-heartedly. Usually done when you realize half-way through that the idea's dumb -- you're bailing out of the idea, like parachuting from a burning plane. "Wow. Way to bail on the pitch."
"house number": a suggestion that you know isn't the fix to a problem, but is in the neighborhood of the fix. Q.E.D. "house number." Applies to everything from individual jokes to entire plot points. You know that this suggestion might seem vague -- or even suck -- but you're just fishing around here, and this might help.
"the bad version": Now, this is tricky. When an executive is flailing around for a suggestion they believe solves a problem in a script, they'll often say "This is the bad version", and give you the hacky/trite solution that points to what's bothering them. They are attempting to call the mulligan of a "house number", but are unaware of the terminology. Also, this is almost always truly bad, where a house number can also be vague.
Led to one of the most beautiful moments in television. (I'm paraphrasing, but it was years ago) On a sitcom, a young executive said "Here's the bad version..." At which point the star, Damon Wayans, said "Don't give me the bad version. They paying you to sit there and think of the bad version? Give me the good version or shut up."
On hearing that story, sitcom writers to a one will smile, curl into a ball and roll around in joy.
"the Rock and Roll": the fine art of all the actors on a set lurching (in perfect coordination) back and forth while acting out a collision, or, explosion, or say, the strike of photon torpedoes against one's port shields. We're waiting on the name of this used on the Trek sets, but this is the original phrase used on the old Irwin Allen shows, so they get points for precedence.
"the idiot ball": On a sitcom, demarks the character who's misunderstanding of a situation or comment - and his predicate bad decisions -- fuels the comedy of the episode. That character is "carrying the idiot ball" for the episode.
As far as I know, this is one of the most specific phrases on the list. Not particularly widespread, but so beautiful, it deserves dissemination. Invented by Hank Azaria on Herman's Head. Hank would ask the writing staff "who's carrying the idiot ball this week?" Note that this is not a compliment. The person carrying the idot ball is often acting out of character, or misunderstanding something that could be cleared up by a single reasonable question that they're not asking solely because the writers don't want him too. It's almost as if the character is being willfully stupid or obtuse.
Enjoy. The origin of "the No/akamura" is still being plumbed. We'll report (breathlessly) as we discover more.
Thursday, April 21, 2005
LOST: "You Uncurious Motherf*ckers"
I know this is perilously close to fanfic, but I had to. Based on conversations with several other fans.
*CAUTION -- SPOILER-Y*
FADE IN:
(The group enters the cave. Along with the lead characters, there are several of the non-speaking castaways. We have gotten hold of the original, uncut footage.)
Jack: A cave ...
John: Are we safe in here? From that thing, right? That THING out there?!
Tyrone: John. Chill. It just knocked down some trees.
Charlie: And ate the pilot.
Tyrone: (beat)
Tyrone: I'm sorry, what?
Charlie: Oh, gee, did we not mention that?
Tyrone: No, you didn't, and it'd be nice if your little fucking coffee clatch decided to SHARE with the rest of us every now and then!
John: Told you.
Jack: (jumping back) Aaaaahhh!
REVEAL two DESSICATED BODIES.
John: Holy Christ on a crutch!
Jack searches the bodies. He finds two small stones, WHITE and BLACK.
Jack: Bodies. And they've been here a long time.
John: What do you think those stones mean?
Jack: Oh, hey, look, water!
Jack skips over to the waterfall. Charlie follows. John and Tyrone stare at them.
Charlie: We can move everybody up here, for the water!
John: (beat)
John: There are two frikkin' CORPSES over here!
Jack: Oh, they've been here too long to even try to figure out who they were? (back to) We'll be able to get out of the sun!
Tyrone: Why don't we check their clothing for labels, or evidence?
John: How about we even take three goddam seconds to go through their pockets for anything OTHER than Santa Fe-style jewelry? And what about those stones?
Tyrone: You're a doctor, right? At least check for blunt-force trauma.
Jack: I'm going back to the beach and tell Kate!
(Jack and Charlie exit)
John: I don't even think he's a doctor.
Tyrone: Crazy fucking white people.
John: That's unfair.
Tyrone: I'm going to hang with the brother down at the beach. Get some sanity.
CUT TO: Tyrone approaches Michael, who's glaring at Walt and burning comic books.
Tyrone: What's up?
Michael: Little bastard's reading comic books, and I'm afraid his goddam psychic powers will summon up another polar bear!
(Tyrone pauses. Begins to step away. Comes back)
Tyrone: I'm sorry. Another polar bear?
Michael: Yeah. The cracker with the abs shot him.
Tyrone: Wait. We have guns? Who the fuck decided who got the guns? Why aren't we having meetings about polar bears and guns?
(Michael shrugs. He whirls on Walt.)
Michael: No more melting SHIT WITH YOUR BRAIN!
CUT TO: Tyrone returns to the cave. John has the bodies pulled out, stripped, and is searching the fabric.
John: How'd it go --
Tyrone: Do not want to talk about it.
DAYS LATER: The other survivors huddle around a fire and a shelter dubbed the "Rosencrantz".
M.G.: So, wait, there are other people on the island?
John: First, the French lady --
Tyrone: Too far away?
John: Like, a day's walking distance. Sayid made it back limping. She had maps.
(Sayid passes.)
M.G.: I want to see the maps!
Sayid: Tough titty, day player.
(Sayid exits)
Tyrone: Can't be that far, the fat guy made it. Apparently there are some numbers and figures on the maps.
M.G.: Wait, the FAT GUY talked to the French Lady?
(Hurley passes)
M.G.: What numbers?
Hurley: They just show a weird repetitive pattern of coincidence linking myself, the flight, other survivors and even previously undiscovered inhabitants in a tapestry of malign intent.
Tyrone: Were you thinking of maybe telling the rest --
Hurley: Eh. Didn't seem to matter.
(Hurley exits. Jack and Kate rush past)
John: Jack! Wait, we want to see if we got this right.
Tyrone: (to Kate) Hey. Almost didn't recognize you with your pants on.
Jack: Okay, but I've got a real emergency on my hands!
John: Two secs. So far we know that there's not only a previous survivor here with intimate topographical knowledge of the island, and electricity --
Kate: Electricity?
Tyrone: The signal over-riding us, and Sayid said he got shocked --
John: - AND she's got guns, but there's ALSO in theory another civilized group that the Ethan guy came from, one that's well-stocked because he was in perfect health and had intimate knowledge of our situation before he inserted himself into our group.
Jack: Right.
John: Further, we can deduce that his base is less than a day from your cave camp, because when whats-her-name --
M.G.: Pregnant Hottie.
John: -- Pregnant Hottie escaped from him, she managed to make it to your caves AHEAD of a much fitter, much faster pursuer who ALSO knew the geography.
Jack: Gotcha.
John: So we have multiple alternate survivor groups with desirable information AND technology all within daylight searching, we have rough maps, we have weapons, plus two OLDER bodies which may have their own clues, but you've yet to examine. Not to mention, if we can get those woman's maps, we can use the compass to measure magnetic declination, matching that to the primitive yet functional sextant --
(M.G. proudly presents the bamboo sextant it took him twenty minutes to make)
John: -- and nail down our rough position. We can also take those long strings of numbers Fat Guy has and compare them to all the personal data of the survivors, the knowledge of the island, and find further correlations.
Jack: Okay.
John: Sooooo ... why don'twe?
Jack: Why don't we ... what?
Kate: Jack, hurry! Sawyer has my magic silver briefcase.
(Jack and Kate dash off.)
Tyrone: ... You uncurious motherfuckers.
edit: This post is getting a fair bit of traffic today. Thanks for coming. I have a quick write-up on the finale up at the home page.
*CAUTION -- SPOILER-Y*
FADE IN:
(The group enters the cave. Along with the lead characters, there are several of the non-speaking castaways. We have gotten hold of the original, uncut footage.)
Jack: A cave ...
John: Are we safe in here? From that thing, right? That THING out there?!
Tyrone: John. Chill. It just knocked down some trees.
Charlie: And ate the pilot.
Tyrone: (beat)
Tyrone: I'm sorry, what?
Charlie: Oh, gee, did we not mention that?
Tyrone: No, you didn't, and it'd be nice if your little fucking coffee clatch decided to SHARE with the rest of us every now and then!
John: Told you.
Jack: (jumping back) Aaaaahhh!
REVEAL two DESSICATED BODIES.
John: Holy Christ on a crutch!
Jack searches the bodies. He finds two small stones, WHITE and BLACK.
Jack: Bodies. And they've been here a long time.
John: What do you think those stones mean?
Jack: Oh, hey, look, water!
Jack skips over to the waterfall. Charlie follows. John and Tyrone stare at them.
Charlie: We can move everybody up here, for the water!
John: (beat)
John: There are two frikkin' CORPSES over here!
Jack: Oh, they've been here too long to even try to figure out who they were? (back to) We'll be able to get out of the sun!
Tyrone: Why don't we check their clothing for labels, or evidence?
John: How about we even take three goddam seconds to go through their pockets for anything OTHER than Santa Fe-style jewelry? And what about those stones?
Tyrone: You're a doctor, right? At least check for blunt-force trauma.
Jack: I'm going back to the beach and tell Kate!
(Jack and Charlie exit)
John: I don't even think he's a doctor.
Tyrone: Crazy fucking white people.
John: That's unfair.
Tyrone: I'm going to hang with the brother down at the beach. Get some sanity.
CUT TO: Tyrone approaches Michael, who's glaring at Walt and burning comic books.
Tyrone: What's up?
Michael: Little bastard's reading comic books, and I'm afraid his goddam psychic powers will summon up another polar bear!
(Tyrone pauses. Begins to step away. Comes back)
Tyrone: I'm sorry. Another polar bear?
Michael: Yeah. The cracker with the abs shot him.
Tyrone: Wait. We have guns? Who the fuck decided who got the guns? Why aren't we having meetings about polar bears and guns?
(Michael shrugs. He whirls on Walt.)
Michael: No more melting SHIT WITH YOUR BRAIN!
CUT TO: Tyrone returns to the cave. John has the bodies pulled out, stripped, and is searching the fabric.
John: How'd it go --
Tyrone: Do not want to talk about it.
DAYS LATER: The other survivors huddle around a fire and a shelter dubbed the "Rosencrantz".
M.G.: So, wait, there are other people on the island?
John: First, the French lady --
Tyrone: Too far away?
John: Like, a day's walking distance. Sayid made it back limping. She had maps.
(Sayid passes.)
M.G.: I want to see the maps!
Sayid: Tough titty, day player.
(Sayid exits)
Tyrone: Can't be that far, the fat guy made it. Apparently there are some numbers and figures on the maps.
M.G.: Wait, the FAT GUY talked to the French Lady?
(Hurley passes)
M.G.: What numbers?
Hurley: They just show a weird repetitive pattern of coincidence linking myself, the flight, other survivors and even previously undiscovered inhabitants in a tapestry of malign intent.
Tyrone: Were you thinking of maybe telling the rest --
Hurley: Eh. Didn't seem to matter.
(Hurley exits. Jack and Kate rush past)
John: Jack! Wait, we want to see if we got this right.
Tyrone: (to Kate) Hey. Almost didn't recognize you with your pants on.
Jack: Okay, but I've got a real emergency on my hands!
John: Two secs. So far we know that there's not only a previous survivor here with intimate topographical knowledge of the island, and electricity --
Kate: Electricity?
Tyrone: The signal over-riding us, and Sayid said he got shocked --
John: - AND she's got guns, but there's ALSO in theory another civilized group that the Ethan guy came from, one that's well-stocked because he was in perfect health and had intimate knowledge of our situation before he inserted himself into our group.
Jack: Right.
John: Further, we can deduce that his base is less than a day from your cave camp, because when whats-her-name --
M.G.: Pregnant Hottie.
John: -- Pregnant Hottie escaped from him, she managed to make it to your caves AHEAD of a much fitter, much faster pursuer who ALSO knew the geography.
Jack: Gotcha.
John: So we have multiple alternate survivor groups with desirable information AND technology all within daylight searching, we have rough maps, we have weapons, plus two OLDER bodies which may have their own clues, but you've yet to examine. Not to mention, if we can get those woman's maps, we can use the compass to measure magnetic declination, matching that to the primitive yet functional sextant --
(M.G. proudly presents the bamboo sextant it took him twenty minutes to make)
John: -- and nail down our rough position. We can also take those long strings of numbers Fat Guy has and compare them to all the personal data of the survivors, the knowledge of the island, and find further correlations.
Jack: Okay.
John: Sooooo ... why don'twe?
Jack: Why don't we ... what?
Kate: Jack, hurry! Sawyer has my magic silver briefcase.
(Jack and Kate dash off.)
Tyrone: ... You uncurious motherfuckers.
edit: This post is getting a fair bit of traffic today. Thanks for coming. I have a quick write-up on the finale up at the home page.
Tuesday, April 19, 2005
The Joy of Jewish Friends
John: We have a new Pope.
Will: I heard. Ratzinger.
John: Yeah. The head of the Inquisition. Seriously, the actual Inquisition. Enjoy the new Middle Ages.
Will: You're Catholic, could you explain something to me?
John: Sure.
Will: What I want to know is, how do you go from being Cliff on CHEERS to being Pope?
John: (beat)
John: How long have you been --
Will: All day.
John: Nice.
Will: I heard. Ratzinger.
John: Yeah. The head of the Inquisition. Seriously, the actual Inquisition. Enjoy the new Middle Ages.
Will: You're Catholic, could you explain something to me?
John: Sure.
Will: What I want to know is, how do you go from being Cliff on CHEERS to being Pope?
John: (beat)
John: How long have you been --
Will: All day.
John: Nice.
Pope Benedict XVI - the most huggable of Popes
"Your friends will fail, Young Skywalker. For this Papacy is not under construction (whirling chair around). It is a fully functioning DEATH VATICAN!"
Monday, April 18, 2005
Writing: Jargon Preservation 2
Over at the Artful Writer, they've got a list of terms up which are excellent, but are a bit more specifically film -- and film comedy -- oriented. An interesting difference in meaning through context is "schmuck bait".
In David Zucker's list - Schmuck Bait: A twist ending that makes the audience feel cheated, such as the old "It-Was-All-A-Dream".
But because of the serial nature of television, Schmuck Bait has a distinctly different meaning. As submitted by Ron Anderson, for TV -- Schmuck Bait: When the promos for a show tease an outcome which will obviously never happen. Example: "Will Ross leave Rachel forever and move to Paris?" Obviously the actor isn't going to leave the show so it's "schmuck bait".
This term doesn't just refer to the promos. When coming up with dilemmas and storylines, a threat to characters which we'd obviously never let happen -- and only a viewer who had no idea how television works would fall for -- is called Schmuck Bait. So not only is the above example promo Schmuck Bait, but during the writing of the episode, this may well have occured:
"Then, at the end of the first act, Ross gets on the plane, maybe never coming back!"
"Come on, that's schmuck bait."
We'll add our TV version to our list, with a nod to the inimitable Mr. Zucker.
"Schmuck Bait:" A threatened plot twist/outcome in a TV show which will obviously never happen. Example: "Will Ross leave Rachel forever and move to Paris?" Obviously the actor isn't going to leave the show so it's "schmuck bait".
They also have "Gilding the Lily", but I prefer the way I learned it (and again, probably more of a TV variation) ...
"Gilding the Matzah": Over-writing a joke, so it's no longer funny.
Also, used in every sitcom room I'm aware of:
"laying pipe": writing and delivering the onerous dialogue which provids backstory and the plot facts needed to support the weight of the funny (or interesting). Exposition, kids, and it ain't fun.
Example: "Geesh, all Dougie's doing this scene is laying pipe. Couldn't we give him a joke?"
One always strives to lay pipe in an interesting way, or "hide the pipe" in an otherwise entertaining sequence. Such a two-for one is a pleasant flourish signifying your professional ability, like a nice chip shot.
In David Zucker's list - Schmuck Bait: A twist ending that makes the audience feel cheated, such as the old "It-Was-All-A-Dream".
But because of the serial nature of television, Schmuck Bait has a distinctly different meaning. As submitted by Ron Anderson, for TV -- Schmuck Bait: When the promos for a show tease an outcome which will obviously never happen. Example: "Will Ross leave Rachel forever and move to Paris?" Obviously the actor isn't going to leave the show so it's "schmuck bait".
This term doesn't just refer to the promos. When coming up with dilemmas and storylines, a threat to characters which we'd obviously never let happen -- and only a viewer who had no idea how television works would fall for -- is called Schmuck Bait. So not only is the above example promo Schmuck Bait, but during the writing of the episode, this may well have occured:
"Then, at the end of the first act, Ross gets on the plane, maybe never coming back!"
"Come on, that's schmuck bait."
We'll add our TV version to our list, with a nod to the inimitable Mr. Zucker.
"Schmuck Bait:" A threatened plot twist/outcome in a TV show which will obviously never happen. Example: "Will Ross leave Rachel forever and move to Paris?" Obviously the actor isn't going to leave the show so it's "schmuck bait".
They also have "Gilding the Lily", but I prefer the way I learned it (and again, probably more of a TV variation) ...
"Gilding the Matzah": Over-writing a joke, so it's no longer funny.
Also, used in every sitcom room I'm aware of:
"laying pipe": writing and delivering the onerous dialogue which provids backstory and the plot facts needed to support the weight of the funny (or interesting). Exposition, kids, and it ain't fun.
Example: "Geesh, all Dougie's doing this scene is laying pipe. Couldn't we give him a joke?"
One always strives to lay pipe in an interesting way, or "hide the pipe" in an otherwise entertaining sequence. Such a two-for one is a pleasant flourish signifying your professional ability, like a nice chip shot.
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