Priestley, we owe you one. We sold you short. We didn't take you seriously. In fact, when you were mentioned at all – usually after drunkenly U-boating parked cars in your Porsche in the Hollywood Hills – it was something along the lines of "wuss," "douchebag" or "wanker."

So what happened? You had to go and prove yourself by ramming a racecar into a concrete wall at well over 100 mph. Well, you got our attention now.

And if that's what it takes to reeducate the American public as to your true standing as not simply an actor but a Man of Action, then we're happy to be of service.

The doctors said that despite massive injuries you are expected in time to recover fully. Damn good news as far as we're concerned. Because right now it's time to fire your agent, fire your manager, fire your entourage and all your professional showbiz ass-kissers and begin your new life.

Brandon is dead - long live Priestley, bona fide Five-O Man of Action.

Message to Knievel Remote Command:

Hey, Evel, I think I got something for you. When you're putting together your broadcast team for the ultimate jump you're planning right now (see the last issue of Five-O) — don't let the networks use those screwhead announcers that make Robbie's jumps damn near unwatchable. No sir. Sign up Mr. Jason Priestley to join you on the TV screen.

He's no Howard Cosell, but with his wounded-gladiator James Dean-act working its magic on the female demo, it's a guaranteed hit with viewers coast to coast. Repeat: the American viewing public do NOT want to see the usual screwheads from Fox! They are not worthy of the Evel one!

Evel, I submit to you with broadcast support from Jason Priestley, Man of Action, you're going to deliver the greatest TV extravaganza of this young century.

Viva Knievel. Five-O Out.