The Booth
“Twelve contestants. One prize. Two
million dollars. And all they have to do is survive...The Gulag!
Created with the world's worst prisons in mind. Attica. Montelupich.
Black Dolphin. Pelican Bay. Riker's. Alcatraz. Penal del Altiplano.
Kumla. C Max. Goulburn. None compare to The Gulag! These twelve
'inmates' will endure solitary confinement, starvation, and possibly
assault for the chance to walk away a millionaire. Each week one
'inmate' will be named Warden. But with great power comes great
chances of...betrayal! Abandon all hope ye who enter here! The
Gulag!”
“Wow” Drummond said as he stepped
away from the microphone. He was known as one of the best voice over
artists for the past fifteen years and never in all that time had he
heard of a show like this. “Is this legal?”
“Not my concern” Mikey said from
the audio booth. “Can we do it one more time? I got a bit of pitch
during-”
“I do not pitch” Drummond said.
Mikey held his hands up and pushed himself away from the control panel
with his feet.
“Shit” Mikey said as his phone
beeped. “Sue.”
“And...?”
“She has some changes. One second”
Mikey sighed as the printer next to him spat out three sheets of
notes. “Jesus Christ...” he said as he opened the door and handed
them to Drummond. “They changed everything.”
“Are you ready?” Drummond asked.
“Yes.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
“You said that last time and...”
“I'm sure, okay?!” Mikey shouted,
slapping his cup of most likely alcohol off the small tray that held
far more than it was intended when built.
“For the next thirty days ten people
from all across America will battle for a chance to win one
million...wait.”
“What?” Mikey asked, rubbing his
temples.
“I'm not feeling it.”
“It's fine.”
“I don't want fine. I want perfect.”
“It was perfect.”
“For the next thirty days ten people
from all across America will battle for a chance to win...damn it.
It doesn't sound right. It doesn't have that...you know.”
“No. I don't. That's why I'm here and
you're there.”
“I'm not sure if you're insulting me
or not. Who wrote this anyway?”
“Sue.”
“Oh. Right. Okay. I'll try it again.
You ready? Of course you are. For the next thirty days ten people
from all across America will battle for...okay. No. I know what's
wrong. Just let me change things up a bit.”
“Sue will not appreciate that.”
“It's fine, it's fine.” Drummond
loudly clears his throat. “For the next thirty days ten people from
all across this great land of ours will battle for a chance to
win...”
“Wait.”
“That was perfect!”
“This is gonna air across the globe.
Isn't saying 'this great land of ours' offensive?”
“To who? “
“You're right. I'm wrong. Never mind.
Continue.”
“Thank you. For the next thirty days
ten people from all across this great land of ours will battle for a
chance to win one million dollars in cash. There will be blood.
Sweat. And of course...tears. Wow. That sounds...
“Sue.”
“Right. For the next thirty days ten
people from all across America will battle for a chance to win one
million dollars. There will be blood. Sweat. And of course...tears.
Welcome to...THE BLOCK. These ten contestants will be put through a
series of obstacles gathered from the world's most dangerous prisons.
Riker's Island. Petak Island Prison. Pelican Bay. La Sabaneta. And of
course...Alcatraz. No TV. No phones. No escape. Each week the
'inmates' will fight for the opportunity to make receive a phone call
from a family member or a conjugal visit. This is...THE BLOCK.”
“Jesus.”
“Yeah.”
“Is this even legal?”
“Ask the censors.”
No comments:
Post a Comment