The Scales of a Winner

“This show you were on. What’s it about?” I ask while following my friend, Natalie, to my living room. I’ve never seen her so excited to show me something. When I let her into my apartment, she charged past me with her laptop under her arm. Seeing her so determined makes me feel drawn by curiosity as well.

Natalie turned to me and skipped backward while she talked. “It’s called ‘Second Chances’ and it’s a game show where people are given money depending who’s willing to give them a second chance.” She didn’t take a breath at all during that sentence.

“How?” I ask.

“I’m not completely sure, I was only on for a short segment. I did my part, got my prize money, and left immediately after that. They never told me about anything else that happened.” We got to the living room and sat down on the couch. Natalie opened her laptop and quickly tapped and clicked through her browser. “The weird thing is that this show never aired because it was too controversial, apparently.” She said.

“There’s probably a good reason for that. How did you even find it if it hasn’t aired?”

“With this!” She turned her laptop towards me to show a website covered with pop-up ads and a list of titles hidden under the pop-ups.

“This site looks extremely sketchy.”

“Well, this is the only way I could find the full episode I was in.”

Natalie battles several pop-ups while navigating through this territory. With a few attempts down different rabbit-holes, she finds a title labeled ‘second_chances_ep3.’ She opens it and expands the player to full screen.

Within the first second, my audio and visual senses are overloaded. Orange, pink, white, and blue plaster the set on-screen. The camera pans across a roaring audience while a jazzy show-tune peaks the audio. Natalie turns the volume down, but the song is still distorted.

The audience continues clapping but starts hollering as the host walks onto the set. He casually waves towards each section of the audience with a professional grin. He holds a microphone at his side like it’s his weapon. His posture and composure clash with his baby blue suit with white pinstripes. The camera revolves around him as the audience continues clapping, whistling, and cheering. The host does seem charismatic, but it’s impressive how much he’s won over the crowd by his presence alone. The show-tune ends and the host scans the audience, waiting for silence. With a few final claps and whoops, the set goes silent.

“Welcome, everyone, to ‘Second Chances.’ My name is Amos Redding and I have one question for all of you, tonight. Do you think you deserve a second chance?” The audience erupts with applause once again. Calling and begging for Redding’s attention. “To answer this question, allow me to select a few of you from our audience. Let’s see, young man. Yes, you with that magnificent beard, come on up. Let’s see. You, madam with the turquoise necklace. Yes. One more. How about you? Young lady, yes you. Come on up.” Redding guides his three picks to the stage. He asks questions to introduce each contestant. Natalie turns to me and asks, “Doesn’t he sound like that one British guy?”

“Which one?”

“The famous chef who yells at people all the time, I can’t remember his name.”

“I’m not sure who you’re talking about.”

“Whatever, this Redding guy definitely sounds like him. Doesn’t look like him but I can hear that guy’s voice when he talks.”

“Okay. When do you show up, Nat?”

“It’s definitely this episode. I recognize that last girl. The blonde one.” We turn our attention back to Mr. Redding on the screen.

“Right, let me see if I got your names right. Kyle, Margaret, and Stacy, yes?” Amos asks. The three nod. “Excellent. Well, are you three ready for a second chance?” The audience cheers as each contestant celebrate in agreement.

“Brilliant. Now, listen closely. There are three rooms behind us right now and I want one of you in each room. Before you go in there, you will write a confession. On a piece of paper, you will write both the worst thing that you have ever done and why you deserve a second chance.” The audience gasped and murmured while the contestants looked to each other with forced smiles above confused expressions. “Now, don’t panic. No one will know which confession belongs to a specific person. If Kyle writes down that he stole a pack of gum from a supermarket, for all we know, Margaret could have been the one to steal the gum. So we’ll take the confessions, you’ll go into a room, then we’ll assign a monetary value to each action. How we do that is a secret from you three. But, remember this. If your door opens again, then you have been given a second chance and you will win the money assigned to your confession. Do any of you have any questions?”

“So, like, how bad should our confession be?”

“Why do you ask, Stacy? Got something horrible to confess?” Everyone laughs. “That’s a good question, Stacy. I’ll tell you this. The harder it might be to give your confession a second chance, the more money it will be worth. So, Kyle and Margaret, you two should write down something as horrible as whatever Stacy is about to write.” The audience cheers and laughs.

“Well then. Go on and write your confessions and head to whichever room suits you.”

The contestants walk to a podium with pens and small squares of paper on top. Redding holds his arms behind his back and paces in front of the set. He looks above everyone in the crowd, but for a brief moment, he looks directly into the camera. Once again, the camera is following him. Each contestant finishes their entry and opens a narrow door to enter a small room. The three doors shut and Redding collects the entries from the table.

“Right, now that they’ve placed themselves in their rooms, let’s take a look at how much these confessions are worth. All of the confessions will start with a base value of $100. If I decide that a confession is worth more, then its value will be decided with this.” Redding gestures to his right. Rolling towards him is a spinner that matches his height.

“Once again, I will read these actions in no particular order. I want you, in the audience, to think of the confession, itself. Not the person it could be attached to.” Redding holds the three slips of paper in front of him with one hand placed on the edge of the spinner.

“First up. ‘For the past three years, I’ve been involved in an affair with someone very close to my spouse. If I get a second chance, I will stay loyal to my spouse and buy them a surprise gift with however much I get.’ Very romantic. A compelling argument. Wouldn’t you agree?” The audience applauds. Redding smiles towards the spinner and pulls it down to set it in motion. The colors of each section blend together with the initial spin. The distorted theme song plays through the duration of the spin. The spinner slows and comes to a stop to point at the section that reads $500.

“$500 for this confession, wonderful. Now, on to the next one. ‘I ran into a parked car at the supermarket. If I get a second chance, I will repair my car and offer to pay for repairs to the next car I hit.’ Oh, Lord. There’s gonna be another one.” The audience erupts with laughter. “Very good. Very kind. But very simple. I think this one will stay at $100.” The audience applauds in agreement. “Now, for the last one. This one looks like a long one. ‘A couple years ago, my friend asked me to take care of their cat over a weekend. I woke up in the middle of the night with this cat making a fuss. They knocked over pictures, tore up my curtains, and pissed on my couch. I was tired and couldn’t think straight, so I put the cat outside and went back to bed. When I woke up, the cat was nowhere to be found. I told my friend the cat ran off on their own. If I get a second chance, I’ll get a new cat for my friend.’ How sweet. Well, I think this deserves a spin, don’t you?” The crowd boos. Redding spins the wheel anyway and the song plays again.

“Holy shit, I hope this is the only time they use that wheel. This music is awful.” Natalie says while struggling to keep the volume at a comfortable level.

“Could you hear this music backstage?” I ask.

“Not at all. I could hear the crowd but I think this music was added after this episode was filmed.” The music fades out and Natalie turns the volume back up.

The spinner stops at $1000. “Well, would you look at that!” Exclaims Redding. The audience responded with mostly boo’s. “$1000! That’s the highest value on the board! Well, let’s decide who deserves their second chance. Cheer as loud as you can if you think the cat-sitter deserves a second chance.” The audience responded with neither cheers nor boo’s even. The set was silent for a few seconds. “An overwhelming and uncontested ‘No.’ Very well. How about the cheater?” Redding does not seem surprised by any of the crowd’s responses. Almost as if he already knows who will be chosen. For the cheater, some of the audience cheered and some whistled.

“Very good. Finally, who thinks that the hit and run driver deserves a second chance?” The crowd responded with plenty of cheers. Much more than the cheater.

“I think we have our answer. Ladies and gentlemen, let’s welcome back the contestant who we’ve decided deserves a second chance.”

Redding turns towards the doors and claps. The audience cheers as the door on the right opens. A short blonde girl with thin eyes and a wide smile emerges from the room waving at the audience.

“Miss Stacy, welcome back!”

“Thank you! Thank you!”

“Now, Stacy. I’ll be honest, I was expecting much worse than a minor automobile accident.” Redding says. Stacy laughed and the audience followed.

“I was scared! I didn’t know how much trouble I could get in for that!” Stacy said in between laughs.

“Well, it seems like the crowd thinks you deserve a second chance. Congratulations. Now, I have a question for you, Stacy. Would you like to know how much money you earned from that challenge? Or would you like a chance to increase your winnings with another challenge?”

“Another one! Another challenge!” Stacy responded without hesitation. The audience approved with cheers and applause.

“Alright! Well, let’s get the next challenge started.” The audience cheered. Redding put an arm around Stacy and walked her towards the center of the stage. They turned to face the side of the stage opposite where the spinner came from.

“I think this is it! This is the part where I show up! The crew had a bunch of us line up backstage for this next part and I’m the first one.” Natalie says while grabbing my forearm.

“Now, Stacy. We’re gonna have a bunch of people lining up in front of you. All of them have a confession, just like you and the others. If you think they deserve a second chance, they will move on and both of you will receive $50.” The audience applauds and Stacy hops with her hands clasped. “However, if you don’t think they deserve a second chance, then you will receive $100 and they will be sent down that trapdoor, there.” Redding points to the floor in front of them. The audience applauds. Stacy stitches her eyebrows, but she’s still smiling.

“Right, let’s bring them out, then.” Redding says. A line of people emerges from behind the small rooms for the first round. Natalie is leading with a confident stride and a friendly grin.

“There I am! Do you see me?” Natalie is shoving my forearm repeatedly.

“Yes, I see you on the trapdoor. Let me guess, Stacy sent you down immediately, didn’t she?”

“Just watch!” Natalie points at the screen. On-screen, Natalie stands over the trapdoor with her fingers locked in front of her.

Redding gestures towards Natalie, “This here is Miss Natalie. Her confession is that she stole several items from her college dormmate. Does she deserve a second chance?” The audience chuckles and lightly claps. Natalie smiles at Stacy nervously. Stacy smiles back at her.

“I’ve done the same thing to my roommates. Yes, she deserves a second chance.” Stacy says. The audience cheers and Natalie skips off stage.

“Wait, was that it?” I ask.

“I told you, I was only in it for a short time. I want to see what happens to the rest. There were like twenty of us I think.” Natalie explains. We sit and watch Stacy judge the rest of the line going over the trapdoor. In total, Stacy gave a second chance to fifteen people, including Natalie. Ten people were not given a second chance, so they were sent down the trapdoor. Each time someone fell down the trapdoor, the audience cheered and laugh along with Redding.

“Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant, Stacy.” Redding says. “Now, before we reveal the grand total of your winnings, I have one more thing to show you.” He says. Stacy stitches her eyes again as Redding wraps his arm around her shoulder and guides her towards the trapdoor. “Go ahead and take a look down there for me, Stacy.” Redding gestures to the open trapdoor. Stacy takes a few short steps towards the opening. She glances at Redding and he gestures towards the opening with a smile. With only one foot near the edge, Stacy peers over the edge.

Stacy jumps back and shrieks. Holding her hands over her mouth, she continues to scream and starts shaking. Before she can say anything, Redding looks over the edge, then back to Stacy.

“Right so our friends Kyle, Margaret, and several others are down there. Why are they down there, Stacy? Do you know why?” Redding gets closer to Stacy as she falls back. Stacy is sobbing now and shaking violently.

“They’re…they’re…de-”

“They’re what, Stacy? You should know. You’re the one that decided they belong there. You’re absolute and infallible judgment. You know, I’ve seen a lot of evil, Stacy. I’ve seen evil in many forms and still shook its hand. I’ve seen the depths of Hell itself in the eyes of man. What separates you from them is absolutely nothing, Stacy. You’ve placed your heart on the scale and decided it was lighter than everyone else’s. In fact, you think that your morality stands above the Messiah because you passed one simple test. So you’ve judged and weighed the sins of complete strangers. You’ve sentenced them on your own accord. Now the weight of their sins is on your back. Your heart will forever tip the scales towards evil and damnation! Tell me, Stacy! Do you deserve a second chance!?”

“You’re a fucking monster! A murderer!”

“No, Stacy. You are the monster. You are-”

Natalie slams her laptop closed and runs out of the apartment without saying a word.