Quizz Whizz

The lights in the studio flicker to life all at once, shining down on the brightly-colored set. The audience begins to clap immediately as the vibrant podiums and décor become visible, an array of tiny yellow bulbs spelling “Quizz Whizz!” in large letters on the far wall. From speakers above, the jazzy theme song starts to play, eliciting a louder cheer from the crowd. From the side trots out a suited man, tie impossibly straight and hair drowning in sleek gel. He smiles charismatically out to the crowd, holding what must be the world’s skinniest microphone as he waves out to the audience with his free hand.

“Good evening, everyone! I’m Fred Fizzy of Fred Fizzy’s fizzy-pop emporium,” said Fred. “And welcome back to America’s favorite game show, Quizz Whizz!”

The crowd goes feral, cheering and screaming back at him. Once the noise dies down, he smiles even wider with his waxen face.

“Our very special contestant today is Doris! Give her a round of applause folks,” Fred urges, clapping around his microphone. From the opposite side of the stage, a mousy woman steps into view, her bright-red smile stretching across her face. She walks over to her podium, tucking a blonde curl shyly behind her ear. The crowd goes quiet again, and Fred comes over to her with that same plastic smile.

“Hey there Doris, welcome to the show.”

The young woman beams back, her hands folding. “Thank you for having me!”

Fred chuckles, and leans on her podium. 

“Now, Doris, tell us about yourself. What’s a hobby of yours?” he questions. Doris brightens up, apparently thrilled at the question. 

“Well Fred, I love to sew! I’ve been doing it since I was a little girl, it’s just really neat and fun.”

Fred nods along to this seriously. “Well Doris, that does sound very fun. Very useful, yes. How about we kick off the show?”

The woman nods back excitedly, hands clapping a little.

“Please, yes! I’ve been so excited,” she laughs out, rocking a little on her heels.

Fred straightens up again with a stretch. “Then let’s get it underway! So here’s the rules, Doris, I’m gonna go ahead and read you three questions. If you get one right, you get a prize! If you get one wrong, you’ll be given a consequence. Sounds groovy?” The audience erupts in chuckles, and Doris smiles eagerly. “Yes, I’m ready!”

Fred grins, and grabs a pack of index cards from his shirt pocket. He clears his throat, and eyes the card. “Doris, what is the official term for a baby goat?” he asks. The blonde woman smiles back at him, laughing sheepishly. “I believe it’s called a kid!” she answers, and the audience cheers.

“Yes Doris, that’s correct! Good job. And as a prize, you get your own kid!” The audience laughs aloud at the joke.

Doris pauses. “My.. own kid?”

Fred nods cheerily, and gestures to the curtain at the back end of the stage. From it steps out a little boy, not a day over nine. He stares out at the audience with big eyes, fists curled tight.

Doris recoils slightly. ”Oh- M-Michael? You brought my son here?” Doris questions, her smile still faintly present.

Fred laughs mechanically. “Yes Doris, we did! And you got the question correct, so he’s all yours! Onto the next question.”

Doris visibly hesitates, glancing at her son, but he’s whisked away off stage again. The audience cheers and claps. Fred stretches in the same way as before, and smiles at her.

“Doris, question number two. Can you tell me what the tenth element on the periodic table is?” Doris pauses, laughing a soft sound out. “Aw Fred, I’m awful at chemistry.. Umm.. I’ll say um, Aluminum?” A loud buzzer sounds, and Fred’s lips turn down. “Aw I’m sorry Doris, that is not correct. We were looking for ‘Neon’. Good guess though, really. Bring out the consequence, please!” From the same spot where Michael came from, a younger girl walks out, five years of age.

 Doris chuckles. “Aw, you brought everyone? Hi, Millie, honey..what a surprise.”

Fred chuckles. “Yes, we did!”

Then, he pulls the pistol from his pants, and shoots the bullet into the little girl’s head.

She goes down in a splatter of blood, and Doris screams. The audience laughs and applauds. Doris stares at the scene with wide eyes, her hands starting to tremble as she turns on Fred. “You- what’re you d- Oh god, Millie.. What’s wrong with you!” she screams. Fred chuckles back warmly, sticking the pistol in the loop of his pants.

“You’ll get em’ next time Doris, it’s alright. Are we ready for question three?” 

Doris stares at him in utter shock, the audience cheering again. He stares back at her with a grin, and slowly she places her hand back onto the podium. Black eyeliner runs down her face with her tears. She nods.

 Fred chuckles. “Perfect! Doris, for question three, we’ve got something special!” Upon saying it, a stage director comes out and places a toddler in the center of the stage. Doris gasps, a hand coming over her mouth in shock. “Daniel..?” 

Fred chuckles aloud. “Yes, it’s your youngest, Daniel. Now Doris, get this question right, and you get to take him home, safe and sound! If you get the question wrong, well, I’m going to stomp on him until he’s dead.” The audience laughs. Doris stares at him, choking on a sharp sob. She shakes her head, and moves around her podium. Fred places a hand on his pistol. 

“Now now Doris, we have to follow the rules, or you forfeit your question. Be a good sport.” Doris freezes in place, her mouth parted slightly. 

She shakes her head. “Ple ase- please I’ll do anythin g-” Fred beams brightly.

“Then answer the question right, Doris.” He clears his throat.

“Question number three, Doris, is which country has the most natural lakes?”

Doris listens to the question, and slowly her face starts to fall, crumpling pathetically. She’s silent beside her soft sobbing, covering her hands with her face. “Pl ea se-” 

Fred chuckles. The audience laughs. “You know what? Doris, you’ve been such a good sport. I’ll give you a hint, alright? Your options to answer is either Canada or Russia, alright? Fifty-fifty shot. What’s your answer, Doris? You’ve got ten seconds.”

Doris trembles in place, tears leaking still. She sniffles, lights bright in her eyes. Feeling the sweat bead at the base of her neck, her lungs burn.

“R-Russia..?” she finally guesses, holding her breath. 

Fred hisses gently. “Ooh, I’m so sorry Doris, but we were looking for ‘Canada’.”

From behind Doris, a stagehand wraps their arms tight over her body, keeping her in place. She gasps, struggling immediately as she starts to scream and cry.

The audience cheers and Fred smiles as the buzzer goes off overhead.