Crushed Velvet: Velvet Revolver

Here is my treatment for a future advertisement: We start with a close-up of a hot, butter-coated FRYING PAN. There is NO SOUND. We see two hands crack a couple of EGGS, which splash and sizzle on the skillet as we fade up VELVET REVOLVER's latest CD, Contraband. We hear one-time Stone Temple Pilots frontman SCOTT WEILAND's strained, toneless yelping as the former GN'R rhythm section (MATT SORUM and DUFF MCKAGEN) histrionically thrashes like CHRIS FARLEY drowning in a kiddie pool. Occasionally SLASH comes through with a few fat, fuzzy riffs, but at best they are mere echoes of his glory days as the pre-eminent heavy metal guitarist. We watch as the eggs COOK, BROWN, and BURN; we see green, pungent SMOKE wafting from the pan. As we fade down on yet another crappy ballad, your famous slogan appears on the screen: "This is your brain on drugs." FADE TO BLACK.