I’m Scott Baio, one of the most beloved shitty actors in history. But I haven’t been feeling so beloved lately, because work has dried up.

It doesn’t have to be that way. Lots of shitty washed-up actors have renewed their careers by making shitty movies for right-wing Christians. Kevin Sorbo showed that God’s Not Dead; Melissa Joan Hart taught us all that God’s Not Dead 2; and of course, Kirk Cameron savinged Christmas in Kirk Cameron’s Saving Christmas.

So where the fuck is my shitty right-wing Christian movie?

You know I can carry a shitty movie. Zapped would have been nothing without me. And you loved me in that shitty Joanie Loves Chachi. It’s all right there in the name—I was the Chachi! That might not have been a shitty movie, but it had the scope and majesty of a shitty cinematic masterpiece.

Don’t get me wrong: I love the free market and its infallible decision making, and I hate the sense of entitlement that you shitty leftists have. But when you’re famous, you have the right to stay famous, as long as you don’t turn fat or ugly or female over twenty-six. I’ve stayed as slender as a loris and I have the youthful face and tan of an old George Hamilton, which means I should get to stay a star.

And anyhow, I’ve worked for everything I got. I spent years developing the ability to emote every shitty emotion there is, from bland affability all the way to generic chumminess. I wasn’t just born a young, smooth-chested Craig T. Nelson—I had to work and wish and wax for it. And what’s it got me? Playing second fiddle to that demented dolphin devotee Dick Van Dyke in Diagnosis Murder? Not good enough!

I spoke at the Republican National Convention for Trump, for fuck’s sake. What more do I have to do to prove that I’ll do literally anything? Do I need to jiggle my leg in a shitty airport toilet in shitty Minnesota for you shitty people? Because I have done that, six times, and my last shitty movie was Superbabies: Baby Geniuses 2. And that wasn’t a shitty right-wing Christian movie, so there wasn’t the built-in audience that a shitty actor like myself deserves.

Lots of people will complain that I did some groping and squeezing of Nicole Eggert, but what they won’t give me credit for is how I saved Willie Aames’s second marriage by jumping on the grenade that was Josie Davis, Charles in Charge’s resident ugly nerdy SJW who was a total whore behind the scenes. He still owes me a Sno-Cone for that.

(I might let that slide. Willie’s had a tough couple of decades. I warned him that the 90s were too early to try to make the career shift to shitty Christian actor, but he was full of this “sincere conviction in my beliefs” bullshit and wouldn’t listen. If he gets back on his feet, I’ll make sure he pays up.)

Don’t treat me like I’m Vince Vaughn. I’m a really good shitty actor. I always remember my lines. I remember every line I’ve ever said. Like “Wah wah wah.” I turned that into the white “What'chu talkin' 'bout, Willis?”

By the way, I’m not racist. I directed a shitty episode of The Parkers, for fuck’s sake. I just think it’s time we have some diversity for Italian-American white guys for a change.

It’s not like there aren’t parts I’d have been perfect for. Couldn’t you have seen me as John Galt in Atlas Shrugged Part III? I named my balls Ayn and Rand, and my cock Objectivism for good measure. What about the Christian missionary unfairly persecuted for single-handedly saving backwards lepers in India in The Least of These? No shitty actor since Ted Cruz has been so unfairly persecuted as me! Or in Unplanned—I could have been the guy who teaches his wife how wicked she is for working at Planned Parenthood and having two abortions. I’ve done that so many times in real life. I even could have met and converted a secretly atheist fuckbuddy in Christian Mingle.

It doesn’t even have to be a shitty movie. I could be on The Masked Singer. I’ll bring my full-body Pepe the Frog costume. Or Dancing with the Stars. People would love me more than Sean Spicer and Bristol Palin combined.

Pay shitty attention to me, goddammit!

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