Men, eh? Can't live with 'em, can't repopulate the world without 'em. Which, speaking as a man, is fortunate.
Ever since women mastered the heretofore mysterious arts of lawn mowing, navigating the TV remote and remembering to take the bins out on Tuesdays, there hasn't really been much more use for us aside from supplying half of the raw materials needed for makin' babies.
It's this that proves to be white gold in the man-less world of TVNZ 2's new dystopian black comedy-drama Creamerie, which begins this Monday on TVNZ 2 and TVNZ OnDemand.
The series opens amongst the steam and bare butts of a team's changing room and wastes no time in killing off the male population with a spate of gruesomely bloody coughing fits that sees the sterile white walls being stained an unpleasantly bright red.
It's a mysterious virus, see, that only strikes down men. Women are immune.
We've all seen Mad Max-style films and know what traditionally happens when society breaks. Men quickly revert to caveman-style tribalism, start wearing spiky leather vests and begin recklessly hooning around in dirt buggies.
Not so in a women's world. Creamerie shows that without men, it's business as usual, for the most part. There's a few changes here and there sure, but nothing that necessitates spending an evening sewing pointy spikes on to your best leather jacket.
While you have to abide by the rules of a cult-like Wellness guru who runs the show using a potent blend of hippie-dippie mantras and a vice-like grip on power, the biggest inconvenience of having no men around is the strict rationing of stock at the nation's sperm banks. Pregnancy is now determined by lottery with lucky winners subjected to a series of rigorous tests to ensure all will be well. Of course with no vaccine for the deadly virus only baby girls survive.
That's the almost blandly grim setting and Creamerie follows three organic dairy farmers, Alex, Jamie and Pip, who are making the most of things despite, well, everything.
Alex is angry at the world after losing her brother to the virus and her outspoken mother to a Wellness-enforced lobotomy process, Jamie is distraught after her husband and baby boy died and is desperately hoping her number comes up in the baby lottery and Pip is a true believer in Wellness and attempting to become a committee member.
With strongly conflicting world views, life on the farm is far from idyllic. But bad as things are, they can always get worse and things here gets positively hellish after they accidentally run over an intruder on their farm. An intruder that isn't the expected woman but is in actuality a bearded man.
But how? And why? And what? Well... these are questions I have no answers for, having only had a sneak peek at the first two episodes. But I can tell you that I am very much looking forward to finding out.
The series is from the creative power team of writer/director Roseanne Liang, who recently made the rollicking action-horror flick Shadow in the Cloud, and actors Ally Xue, JJ Fong and Perlina Lau who you'll recognise from the award-winning web series Flat 3 and Friday Night Bites.
Creamerie may be a big concept show but its comedy is grounded and subtle and the drama of its situations feels real. Lau's goody-good character Pip's constant chastising of Xue's Alex for continually using the "triggering" phrase "hey guys" always amuses, while Fong brings real depth to Jamie's grief.
Elsewhere, Tandi Wright hits just the right note between calming transcendence and unsettling menace as Lane, the leader of Wellness, and while I haven't seen former Go Girls actor turned Hollywood star Jay Ryan do much aside from get run over yet, it's hard to see him dropping the ball here. After all, he has all of man-dom counting on his performance.
The series is the first project to win funding from NZ On Air's new Diverse Development initiative, the goal of which was to bring fresh ideas to the screen and widen the kinds of stories being told.
If that was the goal, then they've struck the ball right to the back of the net with their first shot. Not only does Creamerie do away with the dour dystopias we're used to seeing, it also brings some much needed ambition and high concepts - as well as grisly gore - to our local television landscape.
Right from its memorable opening minutes Creamerie draws you into its world, enticing you with intrigue, mystery and a few laughs. It balances confidently on the tightrope between comedic and dramatic and never loses its footing to plunge into silliness or melodrama.
Creamerie has proved a rich viewing experience and one I really don't expect will sour as it goes on.