I was the first one voted off the island

So I was checking out craigslist. VH1 is casting a new reality show tentatively called "mind games". Thought I'd check it out. This "interview" was the hate jamboree to top them all.

This spunky little turd (James Ronald Whitney) comes out and introduces himself: "We're starting a new show. It's based on my movies "Games People Play". The posters on the wall (of his movies) show all these naked/half naked people.

"This is going to be the most uninhibited game ever! You see, just imagine the show punked! Except in this you're doing the prank. For example you answer the door in a towel and the towel falls. Because this is tv, the nudity has to be blocked out. If it was a movie, you'd see it all!"

(His excitement rises with each mention of nudity as he looks at the girls.)

"Imagine, the pizza guy comes, one of you girls shows up in a towel and the towel falls down. On tv-- "

(frown)

"you can't show anything but the audience knows. The whole thing's going on with you naked."

"Now my stuff's smart. There are like three whole levels. People will have to watch this over and over and you know how often VH1 reruns things. Look, this is really intelligent stuff. Roger Ebert gave me thumbs up. So I get great reviews. Every media outlet in the country's going to be all over this because this is the most outrageous game ever! You will be famous, recognized on the street. You'll have casting directors all over you. In the show, you'll compete with each other to see who can carry off the scenario best. People will be manipulative. They'll try to screw with your head."

He tells the guys to line up: "Take off your shirts." Then he turns to the ladies: "You won't have to take your shirts off -- today."

He addresses everybody.

"Who thinks they'd win this competition?!" Most of the people desperately raise their hands.

Then the girls, including me, line up. He points to one girl, "Show me your abs!"

She stammers, "I can eat whatever I want."

He points to me, "What's special about you?"

I flounder, "I can write."

He mocks under his breath, "Yeah, I'll call you when I need a writer. You're dismissed."

So I walk away, stunned at this camp.

He zeroes in on a tall black girl: "What makes you special?"

"Uhh, uh, I, Uh."

"Don't worry, I think you're special."

She was thin and maybe 6'2".

He points to a short blond girl. "You look heavy. Are you tight under there?

She nods eagerly.

"Totally comfortable nude? No cellulite? Are you sure? Because I'm going to see. Why should I pick you?"

She stammers, then spits out: "Because I'll do anything!"

I was still standing there in a corner of the room and he turned to me, "I dismissed you. What are you doing here?"

"I . . . was watching."

"That's not allowed. You're dismissed!"

So I left.

When I stepped onto the city street I had a queesy feeling in my stomach, the kind that I get when I encounter someone who is really toxic. I thanked heaven to be out of there. I even thanked him for getting me out of there. I was too fascinated by the creepiness to leave of my own volition. I absolutely couldn't look away. Welcome to your television programming of the present moment.