by catt dahman
“Yep.”
A man shrugged at Ruby and Jack, “I hope I get you both on my team. I didn’t get shit for a weapon.”
Ruby smiled and handed the man two of her knives even though he tried to wave them away, “I have too many. If you don’t shove them deep into your pack, they’ll be left here. Take them, please,” said Ruby as she encouraged him to take them.
“Thanks. You rock.”
They laughed and introduced themselves. He was Mark; he looked nervous but was concentrating on watching everyone around him as if memorizing their movements and how they acted. A typical people-watcher, he analyzed and anticipated behavior, “You seem very level headed,” he told Jack, “you’re prepared and calm. A team is lucky to get you.”
“Thanks.”
Mark smiled, “And you, ma’am, are a smart cookie but willing to watch and learn. You’re tougher than people think but not a show-off.”
“Are you a…what are they called...a psychic?”
“A people watcher is all. A useless skill that could help me,” Mark chuckled.
Bert announced, “And we’re about to go to weigh-ins. Each pack will be checked, and the contestants will have to toss out any items that make the weight over sixty-five pounds.” He continued to read the teleprompter, “We hope they put the most valuable things deep down into their packs.” As the contestants began shoving things deeper into their packs, he laughed, “Way to work it, contestants!”
Because the whole show was thrown together at the last minute, Bert didn’t know anything about the contestants but wanted to make each well-liked by the viewers and garner sympathy for any who had to give up supplies because of weight. He wanted to get each contestant noticed and get each some fans.
Not many were expected to survive the game; however, only one had to cross the finish line to win and keep advertisers interested and pouring money into the show. What Bert saw so far was a bunch of stereotypical characters the producers had chosen so that people could root for the gay guy or the cute black man or the big-boobed blonde. They had found cultural and gender icons; they had races, religion, and attractiveness covered. Even the ones they had picked to be the bad guys or the ones you love to hate were good looking or had some trait to balance them with. That part made it easy and difficult at the same time for Bert.
He didn’t want to use that, but the show used the stereotypical profiling as much as possible. Bert tried to point out other traits, but the teleprompter wasn’t helping him. He was supposed to remark upon their culture, religion, race, or anything to define them easily. Besides, it was easier to cheer when the dinosaur ate the sweet girl as opposed to knowing her name and seeing her as real person who died. That was how reality television worked.
After having to remove items and groaning over what each had to put back after the weighing, each contestant was introduced by name for the first time, Bert McTone spoke to the contestants. He read, “We have Wendy Yamaguchi, age twenty-two. Wendy is a seamstress for her family’s laundry business, and her dream is for her parents to retire and for her whole family to go to Osaka to meet family members there.”
Bert almost rolled his eyes as he defined the Asian Chick. “She wants to attend college to study accounting and economics; we have a smart lady here, folks. Wendy was an A plus student in high school, loves video games and acrobatics, and says her high protein and low carb diet is her advantage for the game. Her best find today was a sturdy pair of boots and several reflective blankets. Good luck, Wendy! Folks, I think her brains are her advantage for this game.”
Bert resisted gritting his jaw at how stereotypical Wendy was and wondered why the producers didn’t just have him go on about her eating sushi and knowing martial arts. He forced himself to smile and look excited in front of the camera, but it bothered him that they chose her partly for her ethnicity and not simply for being smart, a hard worker, and dedicated to her family.
His cue card that he read before the show suggested if he had time to mention her family far back in Japan, but thankfully he didn’t have to harp on her heritage; he added the part about her being smart and that being her advantage on his own. She smiled wildly, showing off her perfect teeth as she tossed her dark hair and danced in place with energy.
He introduced Mark who seemed very jumpy; he was a single man from Kentucky. Bert ignored the cue card which mentioned that Mark had found a first-aid kit with rubbing alcohol in it and that he should ask about alcohol as whiskey which he was prompted to say. It was obvious this was the choice for the show’s redneck contestant without having to insult everyone’s intelligence with references to alcohol. Whiskey and bootlegging. Bert stayed on track with Mark’s excellent physical shape, his people-watching skills, and his stamina since the man ran ten miles a day.
The teleprompter suggested asking if Mark had to run so much to avoid the law enforcement officers looking for stills and whiskey-running in the hills. Bert ignored that and didn’t ask.
Mark was not only physically fit, but he was mentally in a good place, relaxed and fearless; he thought of this as a grand hunting trip and planned to evaluate everyone on his team quickly. Once they knew who was strong and in which areas, he could help them plan how to make it to the finish line. The faster they moved, the better their chances; spending the full thirteen days out there would be too taxing, emotionally and physically.
Next, Bert introduced Steve who was tall and thin and who kept smoothing his shirt of wrinkles, looking around in a sort of daze. He was clearly nervous and was the one the producers chose as a dullard, someone who could fill the ranks and not be bet on particularly. He was fodder for the show.
And then there was Preston who kept a sour look on his face and flipped off the camera as he walked by. Preston was the one the producers had chosen to add hostility. The man was twenty, chubby, and a bully, and his face was full of pimples and elitism. He looked with disdain at the others and showed off a cocky, antagonistic attitude. Had he been attractive or smart, his demeanor might have gotten him a following for that, but he was an ugly sort, and he treated the audience with the same poor attitude as he did everyone else.
The crowd jeered at him, and he sneered back. It was clear profiling again. Bert couldn’t read the positives with any conviction because there were few: Preston was a bouncer at a club, was tough, and had a slight criminal record. He was the heaviest contestant and disliked women because ‘they were weak.’ With nothing good to say, Bert, instead, ended with, “Way to make friends, Preston” even though it wasn’t on the teleprompter.
Preston flipped him an obscene gesture as well.
Bert chuckled. Some would think Preston had a chance because he was a tough-guy and would bet on him in droves.
“Next is Anthony Farrentino from Seaside, New Jersey. His family lost the family‘s seventy-year-old pizzeria in last year’s Hurricane Anna Claire, and this twenty-nine-year-old would like to rebuild the business for his family. His father was killed in the tragedy, so Tony is dedicating his win, if he gets it, to his father. I think that is a fine tribute, Anthony. Folks, he says his best find today was a .22 Rimfire with rounds and a LED headlamp. His advantage is his dedication to weight lifting and working out at the gym seven days a week. Good luck, Tony!”
Tony thumped his chest over his heart and extended his hand to the audience, making the girls scream and shout his name. He was definitely a favorite, but Bert thought the Italian slant with a pizzeria was a little too much. Tony was a good-looking guy, and several girls held up signs that read:
YYY TonyYYY
Bert talked about Arnie, who was shy, nervous, and slight in stature. He wasn’t great on camera, but he was one of the ones the producers wanted because of his nature and the fact that if he were eaten, people could cheer. That made Bert chilled and depressed. Arnie was the one chosen to be the fearful one, the scared contestant who would complain and whine.
Bert introduced Jeremy, who was a little of a survivalist and appealed to many with his hard, glitter
ing eyes and bad-boy smile. He was average in height and weight and moved with careful actions, almost slinking instead of walking. He expended no more energy than was needed, and yet, if needed, he was the type who would unwind and strike fast.
Men liked him for his no-nonsense attitude and calmness without superiority, and women liked him because he was sexy with his self-assuredness but didn’t seem aware of that. His modesty was alluring. His eyes glittered with wit and intelligence, and while he watched the rest, he allowed himself a little smile that was almost a smirk. The smile came across as Jeremy’s being amused by all the hype but not taken in by it.
He had gathered supplies with a plan, moving determinedly, carefully, and thoughtfully, and he was only a pound over the limit. He tossed out a flashlight, a stone to sharpen his knife, and a rope. Again he showed the amused grin, and several women screamed with delight. Two wealthier women held up posters:
Mar-ry me, Jer-e-my.
Jeremy, I Luv U.
Jeremy was quiet, intense, and knowledgeable and had studied guns and survivalist methods for many years. The die-hard survivalists cheered for him. Bert thought he had potential, but the teleprompter urged him to typecast Jeremy as a fanatical survivalist.
Jeremy had a rifle, canteen, and a knife, and Bert considered that he might not need much more than those items. Jeremy’s eyes were a little serious, and he was clearly the calmest contestant, relaxed but in a big-cat way; he could pounce before anyone saw him move a muscle. One team would be fortunate to have someone trained in survival.
Lizveth, in short shorts and a tight tee shirt, had the boys’ votes. She flipped her white-blond hair and batted baby blue eyes as she showed off her best find: a strong tent. She stressed it would hold two people and giggled. She said she didn’t know how to erect the tent, and it would need strong poles to keep it up. Bert wiggled his eyebrows at the audience. She said her strongest asset was her ability to talk to people, make friends, and work on a stripper pole. “I am very flexible, if you know what I mean,” she said.
She was the one chosen for sexiness, and Bert had a flash of confusion as she joined those he had already announced. She wiggled her fanny as she walked, waving at those who whistled for her.
Lizveth might have the male fans crazy for her since she was very sexy and attractive, but as she stood beside the rest, she seemed like a lost, small child. Her clothing was wrong for this: short shorts, a tiny tee shirt, and sneakers wouldn’t help her much, but she didn’t know it; undoubtedly whichever team she was chosen for would consider her a liability. She had no chance unless her team helped her survive. It took a while before the shouts and whistles stopped.
Nora was next and was the proper and prudish contestant who gave Lizveth a dirty look and kept her chin high. Her shirt was buttoned high and tucked into baggy pants; she seemed to be wearing a costume. “Proper behavior and high standards, expecting no less than one hundred percent, and conducting oneself in a respectable way are always successful, Bert,” Nora said. She was a hospital administrator who was laid off from work and hadn’t adapted to her new status of being poor and desperate.
“Good luck with that, Nora,” Analisa smiled thinly.
“Luck is over-rated. Smart planning will prevail,” Nora said. She was fodder as well, with few fans and a disdain for those who were already gathering fans. Nora thought brains and respectable methods would help her. Bert could imagine her trying to lecture ethics to a dinosaur hungry to eat her.
Mali Rivera was a waitress from California who was there because the producers needed a girl of mixed heritage. She was white, African American, and Hispanic: a perfect find.
Bert said, “We’re excited to see Mali. She’s smart and clever and grew up avoiding the street gangs when she could. She witnessed random shootings and drug use in Compton. She was part of a gang for a short time when she was younger, but she worked her way out of gang banging and graduated from high school. If she wins, she plans to get her family out of that area and support anti-gang programs and youth programs. Her strength is her ability to fight hard and persevere. Her best finds were a Smith and Wesson knife and a compass. Good luck, Mali.”
The audience was not supportive of Nora but screamed and cheered for Mali, clearly a favorite. Bert hoped they cheered for her strength and not for a role she was cast into. Mali wore baggy pants with deep pockets, an undershirt, and a buttoned shirt over it for protection. She had a hat to avoid sunburn on her face, a belt, and a bandana around her neck; she had given her clothing a lot of thought.
Bert discussed Tina: tall, mean, and elegant. Her clothing was sporty but expensive, and the colors matched perfectly. She was just attractive enough to have a few fans, but a frown etched her face, and she pointed out her strong points while diminishing the others’ points: “I have a real education while Nora has worked and failed to learn what is really needed. Mali is tough, but I work out on real equipment, have two percent body fat, and eat a strict diet of vegetarian and lean proteins and fish.”
“Good luck with that diet. You may be eating dinosaur,” Bert smiled. The audience laughed, and Tina frowned again.
Stephanie was the clueless woman who got the sympathy vote. She repeatedly said she had changed her mind and didn’t want to be there, but that wasn’t a choice, and her contract didn’t allow her to leave. At times, she stood alone and sobbed. She was alienating anyone who would be on her team.
Harper, the smart girl, who claimed survival, was all in the math and who claimed to be the best swimmer of all the contestants, was next. She smiled and swung her dark hair as she danced and showed off. Her warm attitude and good looks won her fans. The producers cued “Harper Valley PTA” as recorded by some grunge band from Seattle. Bert genuinely smiled at that, and Harper gained even more fans as she made swimming motions and danced to the song happily. The producers did a double screen of her joy set against Stephanie’s misery.
Sofia was the delicate, gentle girl that everyone figured would be the first casualty. She was tiny, skinny, and looked around as if confused. Her hands shook, and she shivered; Bert thought maybe she was coming off some drug addiction. Her strong point was that she had been on a reality show before: Jump--she had come in fourth and had only broken a few bones.
Bert motioned at the next in line, “Skate Thomas, a crowd favorite. Skate is a twenty- nine-year-old from Costa Mesa and wants to fund his way by skiing and skateboarding across the United States. Folks, this is one hell of an athlete; check out the man’s muscle tone. He is a monster with physical challenges. He loves unusual sports, likes to challenge himself, and says his strength is his courage and willingness to try anything. He is about to try the hardest, most unusual challenge of his life! His best find today was several pairs of gloves, a machete, and duct tape. Good luck to Skate.” Skate made a hang loose sign and wiggled his Mohawk.
The contestants were here because they needed money, were out to prove something to themselves or others, or were adrenaline junkies. Each thought he could waltz in, survive almost two weeks on his own power and brains, and exit with several million dollars. It was easy to imagine everyone else being killed or being the one to make it, but this wasn’t going to be easy. They didn’t have a concept of the death that could come at any time, yet even Bert couldn’t wrap his mind around it.
SSDD could have offered a tour with guards or experts; the scientists knew their own animals and the landscape, but they didn’t want SSDD portrayed as a place to see dinosaurs for the first time and to study them. They didn’t want to confirm or disprove theories. What they desired was to show smart, strong people facing the creatures in a real-time, real-world way. The gritty, raw experience was what scientists wanted to show and also to dispel any notions that their animals could be studied or lived around. They wanted everyone to know that every person, every type of person, couldn’t face a dinosaur and survive. It was a point they wished to make.
The scientists of SSDD desired to present their creations in the m
ost savage, brutal manner possible so that everyone understood that the beasts of sixty-five million years ago were the greatest and most deadly beings ever. They wanted to show that man had no chance and was alien to the dinosaurs. SSDD was willing to sacrifice hundreds or thousands of people to show the superiority of their creatures.
The show was simply a vehicle for the message.
The producers gathered their thirty-two stereotypical contestants, offered money they would never have to pay, raked in advertisers, and planned to shoot this show to number one. It was the biggest reality-based show since the enactment of Transparent Reporting 2020, and it would be the first program to actually show the dismemberment and consumption of humans.
It would be death by dinosaur.
There was nothing more entertaining.
All the science and all the knowledge to genetically reproduce the giants were available, and they were for reality television. Bitterly, Bert McTone felt like laughing when he thought about it, but everyone was excited to see what lay in the SSDD perimeters, beyond the tall fences in what were formerly the states of Arkansas and Louisiana.
Jimmy was the next contestant to be introduced, immediately forgettable after being on camera. He was one of the black contestants and was unattractive, having the biggest nose anyone had ever seen. His one poster from some fan read:
Go Big-Nosed Jimmy!
Kwan was a Chinese American who showed off his bottles of pepper spray as his most valuable find, along with his 450-calorie-trail-mix packets. He hadn’t picked boots, so he took the standard sneakers which were of decent quality but wouldn’t hold up for a week of running and hiking, much less two weeks, but he quoted clever phrases, playing into his stereotype. Fans loved him, and many were already writing his quotes on their tee shirts. He said, “In survival, there is a win. In winning, there is survival.”
Bert frowned. He wasn’t sure what they meant, if anything, but the crowd cheered anyway and chanted it several times.
Bert went on, “Trevor is our most trained competitor, hailing from Tennessee, and at thirty-seven, he is our oldest contestant. Trevor served in the military a while and now works at a water company. If he wins, he wants to send his eight children to college and make life better for his family. He is dedicating this game to his son Joel, a drug user, who just got out of prison. Trevor is carrying two M72 LAWs with ammunition. The weight of those is twenty-five pounds, so he has to carry light on the rest. Let’s hope he has a good team and has what he needs besides those tough-looking boots. His training is his advantage. Good luck, Trevor.”