REALITY SHOW WEDNESDAY

A contestant who dislikes children will contend with a proud grandmother who brings her daughter's baby into the office.

The show opens with Contestant being interviewed by the show's host: a smart, hip, attractive woman who has been carefully cast and even more carefully outfitted by Wardrobe and Makeup to convey the image of an articulate, successful, happily married mother of multiple well-adjusted children.

Contestant has been carefully cast to convey the image of a bitter, single, socially awkward man who is neither hip nor attractive nor successful. Contestant needed no assistance from Wardrobe or Makeup because "he looked perfect the moment he walked in the door."

Host smiles in a way that is ostensibly intended to put Contestant at ease, but in reality reminds Contestant of Thea Andrews, a really beautiful Canadian co-host on ESPN2's awful morning show Cold Pizza, which Contestant watches every morning -- with the sound off -- while eating cereal. Contestant is immediately intimidated. Host asks Contestant how he feels about children.

"I don't like children very much," says Contestant, shrugging and half-smiling.

Host smiles in a condescending fashion and asks Contestant how he feels when children are around.

"I feel uncomfortable," says Contestant. "I don't know what to say. I..." Contestant suddenly realizes that he has just described the bulk of his social interactions. "I guess I just don't like kids," Contestant says, and attempts a fake laugh.

The scene changes to show Contestant at work, moving papers around in a not entirely random manner. Contestant suddenly hears, over the cubicle walls, murmurs and oooohs and aaaahs and female voices saying Look at you! and Oh, isn't he precious and Let me hold him now.

Contestant cringes. The camera zooms in on his pale visage, etched with fear and loathing. The murmurs and gratuitous compliments grow louder over the cubicle wall as more women join the orgy of baby-admiring. A small display in the lower left-hand corner of the screen shows that Contestant's body temperature, pulse rate, aspiration rate, and adrenaline/plasma ratio are rising steadily.

Whispered voiceover from Host explains that Contestant is experiencing physiological symptoms identical to those observed in mice trapped in corners by cats, and his body is preparing for fight or flight. A poll question pops up at the bottom of the screen: How will Contestant respond? Almost immediately, 73% of 114,286 respondents predict that Contestant will attempt an escape to the men's room, where he will stay until the baby is gone.

The scene cuts back to the interview room. Host asks Contestant why he didn't go admire the baby with his coworkers.

"I never know what to say when people bring babies around," Contestant admits, looking sheepish. "I guess I could say He's so cute or Isn't he darling! just like everyone else, but I don't really think that, so it would come out really phony and everyone would know. Usually I end up standing around with my hands in my pockets and a big fake smile on my face. I hate fake-smiling. It makes my cheeks hurt."

Host nods, brows knitted as if in deep concentration, and asks what Contestant was thinking at this point. What was his strategy?

"My immediate instinct was to flee to a safe place, probably the men's room, and hide there until the threat had passed," Contestant says. "But then it occurred to me that I was already in a safe place -- my cubicle -- and that if I just stayed there, I would be safe."

Cut back to the action. Contestant is hunched over his keyboard, with his chair pulled all the way up so that his belly brushes the table. Whispered voiceover by Host points out that Contestant is trying to blend into his environment by making himself as small as possible. A split screen opens to show how Contestant's posture mimicks that of a squirrel hiding under a bush from an eagle circling overhead.

Without warning, Proud Grandmother enters Contestant's cubicle holding the baby. Trailing her are a man and a woman in their mid-twenties.

Cut back to interview. Host asks, with a sly grin, if Contestant had anticipated this move.

Contestant admits that he hadn't. "I really didn't think she would feel the need to show me the baby, what with all the attention out in the hallway. Especially since I've told her I don't like children."

Host asks if Contestant knew that Proud Grandmother had a grandchild.

"Yeah," Contestant says. "It's her first, so she's pretty excited -- she brings a lot of pictures into the office to show everyone. I remember when she told me that her daughter was pregnant. I asked her, 'Is that a good thing?' I was being completely sincere. Proud Grandmother looked at me like I was nuts."

Cut back to the action.

Proud Grandmother holds up the baby and exclaims, "Here's the baby!"

"Yes!" says Contestant, idiotically. Contestant's mind has gone blank, and an awkward silence ensues. Text at the bottom of the screen notes that Contestant's physiological signs are now consistent with a deer staring into the headlights of an oncoming Peterbilt.

Proud Grandmother breaks the silence by introducing Contestant to her companions. "This is my daughter, Holli Jo, and this is Dave," she says.

Contestant shakes hands, says "Nice to meet you," et cetera, although Contestant has never understood the point of performing these rituals with people he will never meet again.

Another awkward beat.

Proud Grandmother suddenly holds out the baby and commands, "Hold him!"

Contestant flinches visibly, as if Proud Grandmother had stuck both terminals of a 9-volt battery on his tongue. He holds up his hands in an instinctive protective gesture and moves his chair back an inch. "Uh, aiggh, owwr..." he stammers.

Another awkward beat passes while Proud Grandmother holds the baby out, then withdraws him in disappointment. "Well, I guess we better go," she says. Final action shot as Contestant exhales with relief and blood drains back into his face.

Years later, a new edition of TV Bloopers and Practical Jokes shows Host watching Contestant leaving the studio and muttering, into her still-live microphone, "No wonder that guy never gets laid."

(Reality Show Wednesday format shamelessly ripped off from Trillian, who does it much better.)

+posted by Lawrence @ 1/07/2004 03:16:00 PM