Prize

What’s at stake? Everything. Like rolling three doubles in monopoly or picking a get out of jail free card. We’re not prisoners, but we may as well be. I don’t live in the United States, I live in Florida. Or a section of Florida that isn’t in the US. Well, it is, but it isn’t. Hell, anywhere I go in the US, is not in America. Must be ‘cause my shoes weren’t made in America, right? Something like that. None of the Amendments in the Constitution apply to me, unless I get on this new show on GSN, you know? The Game Show Network.

Most game shows and most competitions in America provide money, vacations, cars, but this one provides something far more valuable, a life. Think about it. If you had all the money in the world, how much good would it do you if you were threatened and in prison? No good at all. But, one lucky contestant will win a new, fair, trial and the American Dream. Not the American Nightmare, but the American Dream. A house, two cars in the garage, the right to continue our education, pets, everything. They’ll pay for any accommodations we need to make this happen and I gotta win. Hell, I gotta get on the game show first. But, what is the game show? What are the rules? Are there points? Kind of. Some of us could die in this competition or worse, continue living with a more severe disability: I’d rather be dead.

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So, how does the game show work? What are the rules? There are 50,000 contestants. I know, it’s a lot, but it’s better chances than the lotto or the Publisher’s Clearance House. Someone has to win, unlike the lotto. So, the game is called Jack like Jack of all trades. You’re told to do random shit, like who can change the oil in a car the fastest. Forget none of know shit about cars. They’ll just put the oil where the wind shield wipers go. What could possibly go wrong?

Or anything like skydiving. The losers will get the constellation prize or they won’t. As John Henry said, “give me liberty or give me death” or in your case, just give them death. That’s why there are 50,000 of us. Most of us won’t survive. Darwin would be so proud. We all had to sign waivers so they won’t be sued. Good wholesome family fun. Put censorship stuff over dead bodies and blood. Not every country is willing to air it. Some have morals.

Sex and violence sells. Some people with disabilities don’t understand clothes so take them off at random. There are protesters, but there are always protesters. Try to keep that media away. Legal guardians have to sign off on them too. Reality tv nowadays.

But one by one the disabled died or got eliminated. Some didn’t understand the instructions or read the instructions. Some were eliminated because they didn’t get enough points. The network never made teams where captains pick the players since the disabled are always picked last and who wants to see that and feel like shit? Most people prefer poetic justice, but the adrenaline rush of violence will have to do.

I made the cast. Forgot to say that. I have memory loss. Did I tell you that already? Go back, reread it and let me know. We’re down to 100, but it’s not “1 vs 100,” it’s 100 vs itself. Who can cut wood using a circular straw, measurements, and anything else in a woodshed? Who’s going to bleed to death in the hospital if they’re not DOA? Who can grab the alligator by the tail and put it in the cage without being bitten?” Every round is harder.

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There wound up being two of us: Me and Bobbi. Who’s going to be free and live the American dream and who’s going back to the long term care facility and never reproducing? The UDHR doesn’t exist in the USA.

Sorry, it doesn’t exist in my USA, maybe it exists in yours. But, back to the show. Next up is pyrography and coal walking. You know what coal walking is, but what it’s supposed to be about is conquering fear, not for game shows. If I’m not afraid of walking over coal, I don’t need to be afraid of …

Look at the person across from you and ignore the coal. If they nod, walk, looking at them. Remember James Rae and the steam baths? We’re so fucked. Wonder who gets the prizes if we both die. As they said in the 1990’s: “Always read the fine print.”

So, we start with pyrography, which is writing with fire, but isn’t smoke signals. Making designs on hollowed gourds and wood using burners and tissue paper. It can catch on fire anytime. We both pass without incident.

The burning coal glowed orange as we both shook. Which one of us should go first. I’ve already told you about the refs. They flip the coin and I call tails; it’s heads. Bobbi gets to decide who walks first and Bobbi picks me. If surprise. I take two breaths, looking ahead and walk. Remember what Donkey said in “Shrek”? “Keep walking. Don’t look down.” And I said that and I made it to Bobbi’s side of the coal, which means it’s Bobbi’s turn. I thank my Higher Power. I walk around to the other side of the coal so Bobbi can look at me, but Bobbi’s shaking like a Bob-Head and Bobbi looks down and shake walks and Bobbi’s doing good, but half way, Bobbi trips on something and falls down and Bobbi’s laying on it like a burger on a grill and there’s a pregnant pause and Bobbi starts screaming; shaking legs and arms trying to get out but can’t.

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About 45 minutes later the coal is cooled and Bobbi gets up and finishes walking. Red marks looking like shingles are everywhere. An announcer announces over some PA that I won and I’m going to be free and I should feel something for Bobbi, but don’t. I’m happy and im finally free.