When I saw the promos for the show "Undercover Hippo," my head almost exploded. That's the best name for anything I ever heard. Successfully ignoring that it was going to be a National Geographic Channel nature show, I was so excited I couldn't sleep — my imagination was running wild. I constantly sang to myself the rewritten chorus of Alan O'Day's masterpiece ("Undercover Hippo, midnight fantasy...") — oh man, maybe that would be the theme song! Sigh, it turned out to be just one episode in a series called "Dangerous Encounters," hosted by a Steve Irwin-wannabe goofball named Brady Barr. His plan is to get close enough to a hippo to scrape sweat off its back — you heard me — so, um, yeah, his team crafts a HIPPO SUIT for him, so he can get face to face. I'm no hippo suit expert (or HSE, in the lingo), but it looks only slightly more realistic than something from "The New Zoo Revue." Great minds think alike, as the real hippos are not having it either. Finally, an HSE shows up and makes what they call an Expert Suggestion: Rub hippo shit all over the suit, that'll get the party started. I think this is excellent advice — for any TV show, really — but it doesn't go so well. The suit is just way too heavy and hot and it hurts Brady's back (hmm, maybe it's the 200 lbs. of camera gear). Then he gets stuck in mud fifty feet away from an actual hippo, and in terror he almost rubs nature show host shit all over the inside of the hippo suit. Pathetic. Never have I rooted so hard for someone to be brutally mounted by a giant hippo, not since the last time I saw "Tourgasm," anyway. I'm working on acquiring the rights to the title "Undercover Hippo," so watch out for an awesome detective-animal-sitcom with a kickass theme song. I smell Emmy, or is it just hippo shit?

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