Well, folks… we set out on a noble quest: to secure funding for the It Happens in Florida pilot episode. A simple goal, really. Just convince some investors that a comedy show about gators, conspiracy theorists, and moonshine-fueled mayhem is a smart business decision. Easy, right?

Wrong. So wrong.

It started with Raymond printing our pitch materials at the local bait shop. "They got a copier next to the minnows,” he said. Unfortunately, the copier was also doubling as a lizard incubator, so all of our brochures smelled like swamp and had mysterious tail marks on them. Still, we pressed on.

Next up: a big investor Zoom pitch. Oscar insisted on doing it from a boat in the Everglades for “ambiance.” What we got instead was fifteen minutes of Oscar fighting off a raccoon with a selfie stick while the investor asked, “Is this part of the show?”

Then we tried a car wash fundraiser. Classic. Except we didn’t anticipate Florida Man entering his airboat into the line, nor the fact that our cast thought “bikini wash” meant wearing inflatable flamingos. We raised $17.50 and a coupon for free fried okra.

We attempted a bake sale… but our “meth-lab lemon bars” were just a branding joke. Apparently, Homeland Security doesn’t have a sense of humor. No one was arrested, but we are definitely on a list now.

At one point, we tried crowdfunding. Oscar posted a heartfelt video asking for support while Raymond accidentally went live from the bathroom with a “Hot Pockets Emergency.” We raised $4. And a can of Off-brand Bug Spray. (Thanks, Aunt Patty.)

In a last-ditch effort, we scheduled a fancy pitch dinner at the only upscale restaurant in town. It went off the rails when our waiter turned out to be an unpaid extra from episode three and insisted on reenacting his “gator whisperer” scene mid-salad. Needless to say, the investors left—quickly—and one of them screamed, “Why does everything smell like fried sunscreen!?”

So here we are. No investors. No pilot budget. But plenty of stories.

And honestly? That’s what this show is all about: turning chaos into comedy. We may not have fancy backers or Hollywood producers (yet), but we’ve got passion, persistence, and an overwhelming number of feral cat cameos.

So if you want to see It Happens in Florida brought to life, consider supporting us. Because at this point, we’ll take cash, check, or a case of Slim Jims.