Ah, the early 2000s. The economy kinda worked, trucker hats were fashionable and Justin Bieber wasn't yet old enough to make music. It would have been a fun decade, if we didn't have to endure the following awful TV shows.

As anyone who has ever worked on a sitcom can tell you, the writers room is not just the inner sanctum where a dozen scribes gather to brainstorm the theoretical contents of Courteney Cox's uterus or share their disdain for foreplay into the wee hours of the morning, it's also the place where metric tons of Red Vines, Balance bars, and production-supplied feasts from local restaurants are ritualistically devoured as part of the creative process. This weekend's NY Times Magazine comedy issue devoted a piece to gluttony in the Room, including this anecdote from a doomed spinoff that generated as many potential diabetes cases as episodes: