What do you get when you combine a female-favored programming style like “soap operas,” with manly subject matter like “gangsters?” You get HBO’s The Sopranos, which sent competitors to sleep with the fishes for the six seasons it ruled Sunday nights. Taking a page from HBO’s playbook, Starz has invested heavily in what they call “original transgendered programming” (and then quickly retitled “Ladies and Men Entertainment” after “transgendered” caused some confusion).
First to be released from their new, division is next season’s “Midnight Blues” mystery series, starring detectives Casey Sullivan and Boobs McCannon.
We’ve been lucky enough to get our hands on leaked information from the show’s first episode.
Casey stepped under the yellow tape and held it aloft to allow Boobs to follow. The two women approached the crime scene, the thin cloth that covered the body already stained with a red nearly as crimson as Detective Boobs McCannon’s bee-stung lips.
“What do we have here, Marcus?” Casey asked the buff, young coroner, peeking beneath a corner of the cloth. She ran a hand through her short, sassy hair.
“Gunshot wound,” said Marcus, peeling back the sheet to reveal a hole in the victim’s forehead. As he did so, the muscles in his arms bulged, the sheen of the summer heat reflecting on his coffee skin. “We have ID; it’s Colt Leatherchaps, quarterback of the Mustangs.”
“That’s hot,” breathed Boobs.
“He’s been dead over 24 hours, Boobs” quipped Casey. “He’s actually quite cold now.”
Boobs giggled and leaned forward for a closer look, her tight-fitting blouse’s buttons giving up hope of holding back her ample cleavage and springing clear.
“Looks like Colt took a .45,” said Casey, sassily. She squinted as she applied her many years of experience and unusually sassy IQ to the facts at hand. “And I think I know who our killer might be.”
Boobs turned to her clever partner, her index finger resting on her lower lip, pouting it forward, as she planned her next move.
“You work on that lead,” said Boobs. She turned a smoldering gaze to Marcus, her eyes caressing the length of his body as he stood to his full height of six-foot-four. “I’ll help Marcus work the body for hard evidence.”
“Sounds good partner,” said Casey. She leaned in and gave Boobs a lingering good-bye kiss on the lips, a custom in the country of Lushatania, where she spent several years training in the martial arts with a band of nomadic monks.
The two women two split ways, determined to find a killer.
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