Cheerio, old sports, and merry tea time. Fox just announced that it will royally flush its little-watched series I Wanna Marry Harry down the toilet. It’s canceled, halfway through the season. The jig is up, the curtain has been called, tomatoes have been pelted, and the floor remains unswept.
Now and forevermore, seven American women will be perpetually stuck in a castle, asking over and over: Is this what Prince Harry’s face looks like? This is their Sisyphean task, their fate, their special eternity, their kismet and karma. Not even Fox can save them now.
But what will become of “Harry” himself? Perhaps the best way to memorialize I Wanna Marry Harry is to imagine the consequences that might befall a royal impostor and harem-keeper in the kingly days of yore. How would this man playing a trickster game of thrones fare in something like Game of Thrones? And what would be the fair punishment for such a scoundrel?
• Should he spend his days apologizing to each and every stone in the castle, as each was forced to bear witness to his mendacity?
• Might he be only able to utter the nonverbal sounds unique to dating-show contestants — like “eewiiyee” or “aaaa!!aa!!a!” or lonely sobs — for the rest of his years?
• Could he dress in a drugstore Elvira costume and travel from village to village, aiming to convince townspeople that he’s actually a goblin princess?
• Might he be relegated to giving guided tours of off-brand wax museums featuring backup royalty?
The possibilities are endless. And, lucky for you, dear nonexistent audience, Fox will release the final four episodes on Hulu and Fox.com.
Good riddance, I Wanna Marry Harry — we hardly knew ye, and we didn’t care.
