When the Credits Rolled… So Did Tara
An Unexpected Twist Ending at Cracklin’ Jacks
Well, folks… the public viewing at Cracklin’ Jacks was a smashing success — and we mean that literally.
After the laughs, the raffle prizes, the fried gator bites, and a surprise game of “Guess That Florida Headline,” we wrapped up the screening of It Happens in Florida with cheers, applause, and one unexpected plot twist: Producer Tara took one step too many, slipped like a greased pig at a county fair, and landed herself in the world’s least glamorous post-credits scene — with a broken ankle and a new nickname: “One-Take Tara (Because She Can’t Take Another Step).”
Luckily, Tara’s in good spirits (and good pain meds), and while she’s now sporting a fancy new cast and a scooter that’s somehow faster than our cameraman’s truck, she wanted everyone to know one thing:
“This is exactly the kind of thing that happens in Florida. So of course it happened to me.”
In true Florida fashion, fans rushed to help, someone offered a beer for pain relief, and a local alligator (we assume his name was Carl) just kept watching silently like he’d seen it all before.
We’d like to thank everyone who came out to support the show and share this hilarious misadventure. The good news? Tara’s okay. The better news? We got some great behind-the-scenes footage we may or may not use in our blooper reel.
Stay tuned, stay weird, and remember: If something unbelievable happens, odds are… It Happens in Florida.
Join Us at Cracklin’ Jacks: Be Part of Bringing It Happens in Florida to Life!
Hey y’all,
We’ve got something exciting—and a little wild—cooking down at Cracklin’ Jacks this weekend, and we want you to be a part of it!
We’re officially inviting the community to a public viewing of the proof-of-concept video for It Happens in Florida—our weird, hilarious, gator-infused comedy series straight from the heart of the Sunshine State. This video was made with love, duct tape, and just enough mosquito bites to make it authentic.
📍 Where: Cracklin’ Jacks
📅 When: Tomorrow! (Yes, tomorrow!)
🎥 What: Screening of our proof-of-concept video
🎉 Plus: Merch for sale, games, raffles, and probably at least one person in a mullet wig.
We made this video to show people what It Happens in Florida is all about—oddball characters, real Florida charm, and the kind of comedy you can only get when two guys in ties find themselves in the middle of a bait shop shootout.
Normally, these early previews are just for investors. But we decided to share it with the people who matter most—you, our community. Because none of this happens without your support.
Here’s the deal: we need funding to make the pilot episode. And that funding won’t come unless we can show potential investors and advertisers that there's a loyal, passionate audience behind this show. That’s where you come in.
So come laugh with us, grab some merch, buy a raffle ticket, and help us show the world that this Florida-made show has legs (possibly even a few extra ones if the rumors about the swamp are true).
Thank you for every like, share, T-shirt bought, and story told. Now let’s get weird. Let’s make something together. And let’s show everyone why Florida needs its own comedy series.
See you at Cracklin’ Jacks!
With gratitude and a bucket of boiled peanuts,
The Producers of It Happens in Florida
We Made the News ... Legally this Time!
🎉 We’re in the news — and this time it’s for something good!
It Happens in Florida just got a feature in Coastal Breeze News, and we couldn’t be more excited to share our story, our chaos, and our love for all things weird and wonderful in the Sunshine State. ☀️🎬🐊
📰 Check out the full article here:
👉 https://www.coastalbreezenews.com/lifestyles/looking-to-make-it-happen-…
Help us spread the word by sharing this post and tagging your favorite Florida Man fan. Let’s make it happen — one headline at a time!
“Getting Ready for Greatness… or Something Like It”
A behind-the-scenes blog from the producers of It Happens in Florida
We had one job: host a public screening of our It Happens in Florida proof-of-concept video at Cracklin’ Jack’s. Just one. Simple, right?
Cue the circus music.
First, we needed a projector. Raymond swore he had a “great one” in storage. What he brought was a 2003 model that only accepted MiniDiscs and smelled like raccoon pee. Oscar tried to clean the lens with a sock he found in his truck, then accidentally superglued the sock to the side. It is now part of the projector.
Then came seating. We thought Cracklin’ Jack’s had chairs. Turns out, they do, but Oscar said he was bringing his extended family of maybe 2 people (or possibly 57). So we needed more chairs. So we tried to borrow chairs from the VFW hall, but Ashley somehow offended the commander by referring to his prized parrot as “discount poultry.” We now have 17 mismatched lawn chairs, 3 pool noodles, and an inflatable flamingo that seats one.
Now: signage. We asked Tim to design a big banner. He said “trust me,” and disappeared for two days. He came back with a 12-foot-wide hand-painted mural of two armadillos watching a sunset, and the words “WE’RE DOIN’ IT LIVE.” When we asked if he meant to include the name of the show anywhere, he said, “Art speaks for itself.”
We also needed a table for merch. Our intern Dakota (a loose term—he’s Raymond’s cousin’s roommate) said he could “build one from scratch.” He did. Out of driftwood, zip ties, and emotional instability. It collapses if anyone sneezes in its direction.
Meanwhile, we attempted a tech run. We plugged everything in—projector, speakers, laptop—and immediately blew a fuse in Oscar’s garage. That’s when we discovered we’d been charging all our gear off the same outlet that powered his freezer full of venison jerky. It was a dark day. Literally.
Costumes? Oh, you mean “event attire.” Ashley requested a glam team. We said we had $14 and a can of dry shampoo. She said, “That’ll get me started.” Oscar insisted on wearing his “lucky shorts” even though they have more duct tape than fabric. Raymond threatened to go shirtless if anyone made him tuck in his polo.
As of right now, we’ve got:
- A possibly functioning projector (with sock),
- Lawn seating for most of an average-sized toddler birthday party,
- One banner that may confuse people into thinking this is a wildlife fundraiser,
- And two backup flashlights in case the power goes out again.
Are we ready? No.
Will it be perfect? Also no.
Will it be Florida? Absolutely.
See y’all at Cracklin’ Jack’s this Saturday!
Bring a chair. And maybe an extension cord.
–The Producers of It Happens in Florida
Behind the Scenes with “It Happens in Florida” – A Note from the Creator
By John Sokolich, Creator of “It Happens in Florida”
When people watch a comedy show like It Happens in Florida, they usually see the polished (or semi-polished) final product—characters cracking jokes, gators doing suspicious things, and the occasional blow-up flamingo gone rogue. What they don’t see is the chaotic, caffeine-fueled, mosquito-bitten writing and production process that makes this glorious madness possible.
So let me take you behind the scenes of what it really takes to make a comedy show about two Florida guys just trying to survive the Sunshine State.
📝 The Writing Process: Equal Parts Genius and Gator Attacks
It all starts with an idea—usually something absurd we’ve heard on the news or lived through ourselves. (Yes, the story about the sinkhole that swallowed the lawnmower really happened.)
From there, we sit in a room—often sweaty, sometimes shirtless depending on the AC situation—and toss around storylines like:
- “What if Oscar tries to run for local office… but he doesn’t know what office he’s running for?”
- “What if Raymond starts a business rescuing iguanas but ends up in a turf war with an alligator wrestler?”
Once we land on something ridiculous enough to be real in Florida, the writing begins. We outline. We argue. We eat too many gas station empanadas. And eventually, we create a script that makes us laugh hard enough to forget the budget is held together with duct tape and good intentions.
🎥 Pre-Production: AKA Organized Chaos
Before we film a single frame, there’s a long checklist that ranges from “secure filming permits” to “borrow cousin’s airboat.”
We scout locations (aka, ask ourselves, “Do you think we can film behind that Waffle House without getting kicked out?”). We wrangle props, wrangle cast, and occasionally wrangle wildlife—though not on purpose.
Costumes are usually “whatever’s in the trunk,” and our props department is basically a Rubbermaid bin labeled “DO NOT OPEN – LIVE SNAKE???”
🎭 Rehearsals, Rewrites & Real-Life Disasters
Our cast is amazing—and incredibly patient as we rewrite scenes the night before shooting because a raccoon broke into our original location.
We rehearse in parking lots, backyards, and once inside a fishing bait shop because the acoustics were great (and the owner gave us free worms).
🎬 Filming Day: Expect the Unexpected
If everything goes to plan… something has gone wrong.
Filming is a beautiful mess of improv, last-minute rewrites, drone mishaps, and trying not to sweat through our boom mic. Sometimes we get gold in one take. Sometimes we have to pause because Raymond stepped in a swamp again. Either way, we roll with it.
❤️ Why We Do It
We make It Happens in Florida because we love telling stories that are absurd, unpredictable, and deeply human. Florida is the perfect setting because truth really is stranger than fiction here—and somehow more hilarious.
Every episode is a labor of love, duct tape, and occasional animal control intervention. And the best part? Sharing it with all of you.
Thank you for laughing with us, rooting for us, and spreading the word. We’re just getting started—and we can’t wait to show you what happens next in Florida.
Joining SAG… for All the Wrong (and Very Floridian) Reasons
A blog post from the confused but enthusiastic cast & crew of It Happens in Florida
At It Happens in Florida, we take the craft of acting very seriously. Which is why, when someone mentioned joining SAG, the cast immediately got fired up.
Unfortunately… no one knew what SAG actually stood for.
Raymond was the first to declare, “I’ve always wanted to be part of that—Secretly Acting with Gators!” Oscar nodded solemnly and said, “It’s like the Navy SEALS of Florida acting. Real prestige stuff. You do your lines, you dodge a tail swipe, and no one ever talks about rehearsal because the gators weren’t supposed to be there.”
Ashley, who insists she once performed Hamlet at a reptile farm (citation needed), said she’s been waiting for this opportunity her whole life. “This is why I trained in method acting,” she declared while covered in mosquito bites and wearing a bedazzled swamp boot. “If I have to cry while making eye contact with a sunbathing gator named Carl, I will.”
Our audio guy, Cal, started making “official SAG patches” on his Cricut machine—featuring a gator in sunglasses, holding a script. Our director got suspicious when someone asked if joining SAG meant we’d finally get “that union-sponsored airboat.” (It does not.)
By mid-afternoon, someone had built a swamp-themed obstacle course in the parking lot “for the physical test.” There was also a whispered plan to relocate a baby gator from someone’s cousin’s pool “so the SAG people know we’re serious.”
Eventually, we tried to explain that SAG actually stands for the Screen Actors Guild, the official union for film and TV performers. Everyone stared at us like we’d just announced karaoke night was canceled.
Oscar: “So… it’s not gator-related at all?”
Raymond: “What are we even doing with our lives?”
Ashley: “Can I still wear the boots?”
Despite the crushing disappointment, we’re still pursuing membership. Real SAG, that is. Because It Happens in Florida deserves a seat at the professional table—even if we thought that table had a gator underneath it.
So here’s to dreaming big, acting bold, and maybe still Secretly Acting with Gators on the side. 🐊🎭
–The Cast & Crew of It Happens in Florida
(Professionally unqualified, emotionally overqualified)
