Fear Zone XXX

The ad had been clear enough, the premise simple actually. Because Network TV was in a slump as a result of the oversaturation of programs from cable and satellite there was just no way they could compete anymore. Rating systems were dumped by the roadside and in their wake the market was opened up to anything. Enter Fear Zone XXX, the first show to bring you live, onscreen death. Of course, it wasn't that simple, it wasn't like someone trained a camera on the subject and they were shot in the head, no, it was a game show, one that paid you a million dollars if you won. The only catch: no one ever wins...
Craig Macaby sits in the dressing room wondering what he is doing here. After a six year stint in the Marines he'd wandered around the country, restless and hungry for adventure but all he saw was the insides of pool halls, seedy taverns and jail cells. Another town, another arrest for disorderly conduct, public intoxication or assault and battery. It was how he survived, he couldn't help it. Fighting was a way of life. The only reason he quit the Marines was because he wanted to do something more with his life and, failing that, he just wanted to have a good time.
Across from him sits a man in a tank top and skin tight jeans, preening himself with a mustache comb even though he's butt ugly. His name is Coursan, Rick Coursan, and he just completed a four year stay in Fulsom County Prison for armed robbery, assault with a deadly weapon and attempted escape from police custody. He'd been a petty theif until the age of ten, when he decided to become a professional. He'd grown up bouncing from one juvenile detention facility to the next, finding his way to prison by the time he was eighteen. He was only twenty-two.
Seated next to Rick is a skinny, scary looking woman named Sherry MacFarland. She too was familiar with the United States legal system-or, more to the point, being incarcerated within it-but she wasn't here after being recently released. She'd been in the outside world for a few years after completing a sentence for involuntery manslaughter and was bored out of her mind. Felons have very limited job opportunites and after going through several minimum wage slave labor jobs such as dishwasher, grocery bagger and telemarketer she was ready for some action, but not ready to wind up in jail or prison again. It wasn't that she couldn't handle it, it was that the outside world was more exciting. Prison life was the same thing day after day, it was the routine that kept inmates sane but drove her crazy.
The three of them were all here to participate on this weeks episode of Fear Zone XXX for a chance to win one million dollars. The show had been on the air for thirteen crazy months and so far there had yet to be a winner. Everyone who had been on the show unto this point was dead, that was why it paid so much if anybody won.
The show was a spin-off of another one of the NBC networks shows in which people performed stunts, competing against each other for $50,000. This show was the same thing, except there were no nets, no wires, no safety equipment of any kind. The idea was to perform these stunts as God himself had intended them, without any help.
"Are you guys psyched up or what?" The host, James Crogan asks, popping into the room unexpectedly. "Are you ready to have some fun?"
The three of them stare at him silently. If looks could kill James would have experienced a simultaneous heart attack/stroke/brain aneurysm trifecta. Lucky for him that wasn't possible.
"You guys better have some money in the bank cuz yer gonna need to pay me in cash." Coursan growls, pocketing his comb and eyeing the host with open hostility.
"In large bills." The host assures him, tipping him a wink. "Hell, any denomination you want." He walks further into the room, almost gagging from the smell of hair gel, sweat and chewing gum. Man, where the fuck do we find these freaks every week? He thinks as he smiles at them absently, playing his role as the polite host when inside he hated them and was always happy-no, make that ecstatic-to see them die. The only reason they had three people per show as opposed to six on the other, more commercial program, was that they were afraid they would run out of contestants before the season was over. Keep the group small, that way they had a good backlog of other foolish, er, hearty participants.
"We have some pretty hairy stunts lined up for you guys today so I hope you all are feeling brave."
"Let's just get this shit over." Coursan snarls. "I gotta rape a teenager after this is over.
"Condom machine is in the bathroom." James supplies helpfully, then claps his hands together. "Well, no better time than the present I suppose." He says, turning toward the door. "If you all will just follow me..."
* * *

"Lady's and gentelmen welcome to another exciting installment of Fear Zone XXX. With us today are three brave souls who are ready to risk it all in an attempt to win one million dollars." James Crogan says to the camera while the three contestants stand huddled behind him. "From Dallas, Texas we have Richard don't-you-fucking-look-at-me Coursan, thief, strong-arm artist and three time felon extraodinaire. How are you doing today Rick?"
"Fuck you." Coursan spits and James smiles.
"Excellent. Welcome aboard. Next to him, from Chicago, Illinois is Sherry licks-a-lot-a-puss MacFarland, murderer, extortionist and home abortionist. How they swingin' Sherr?"
"You couldn't handle what I got you fucking fairy." She says in a voice as rough as sandpaper.
"You got that right. And our third contestant tonight, hailing all the way from Portland, Oregon is Craig Macaby, a former member of the US Marines and the only one here that hasn't done serious time."
"The hell are you talking about? I served in Iraq for three years." Craig says, sneering, and James actually adapts a humble look on his face.
"Sorry, the only one here who has actually done some SERIOUS time. Welcome to the show Craig."
"Let's do this thing!"
"Alright, without any further adu, we'll start with the first of our four stunts tonight. If you all will just follow me..."
* * *

"We like to start the show off with something relatively easy, just to get everybody into the swing of things." James says, laughing to himself. They always start the show off with something they figure these bozos can complete without serious injury so that the program fits perfectly into it's allocated time slot. If everybody died on the first stunt it would defeat the purpose of advertising. For this episode they plan to have them race ATV's through a minefield and the one with the best time gets their choice of positioning on the next stunt. What the contestants don't know-nor the viewers at home-is that it isn't a real minefield, none of them is actually at risk of being blown to bits. Unless any of them is really stupid-and that was entirely possible-then no one should get hurt.
"Alright we have randomly selected Rick to go first..."
* * *

"Welcome back to the show. Our three stunt performers all came out unscathed but Craig had the best time so he gets his choice of attempting the next stunt first or, if not, who he wants to be lucky number one. Like our other show, this is the point where our chef has whipped up something tasty for ya'll, but in this case, our 'chef' is actually a biochemist who specializes in viruses and the 'food' is something different all together."
James leads them to a door and turns so that the camera can catch his good side. His bad side shows his plastic surgery scars.
"Behind this door is a darkened room and inside is the sexual organ of each of our contestants preference, attached to their partner of choice of course. Using only their noses they have to detect which penis or vagina is not infected with Herpes and then proceed to felate said orafice. We have two vagin'a and a penis as our main course de jour. Craig, who do you want to start?"
"I think we'll have Rick take a stab at it."
"Okay, Rick it is, and since you picked the cock, we'll have the men get into place..."
* * *

"Okay, good job guys. Mouthwash is over there. We'll administer a bloodtest later to see who completed this stunt without any life-altering blowback. Are you ready for the next one?"
The three of them grumble in assent and James nods. "Okay then, this is where the stunts get a little more complicated."
The camera pans back and shows that they are standing in front of a large aquarium full of great white sharks.
"These sharks have been starved for over a week and we have our technicians onboard and ready to start ladling in our special mixture of seal, whale and dog guts. We have randomly selected Sherry to go first."
"What do I have to do?"
"There is a flag at the bottom of the tank that you need to retrieve."
"Just one? This ought to be easy."
"Uh, yes, of course." James chuckles. "If you will just strip down to your underwear we can begin."
Sherry begins to take of her clothes, revealing scrawny legs that look as if they've never seen the sun.
"What?" James holds a hand to his ear, pretending to recieve a message. "Er, the challange has been changed. Please keep your clothes on."
"Whatever you say."
"Okay, climb the ladder over there and when I say 'begin' I want you to jump in the tank and grab the flag."
"Alright."
"Technicians, if you would be so kind as to start the feeding frenzy..."
The technicians start dumping the blood and guts in the water and the surface of the tank begins to froth with their eratic activity.
"And...go!"
Sherry jumps into the bloody water, the sharks going apeshit all around her. She doesn't make it more than halfway down when the first one notices her and clamps on to her right leg, tearing it off. Sherry screams and takes water into her lungs, choking. In seconds the other sharks surround her and begin to tear her apart. Her legs are consumed and then her arms. For a moment she is a bulgy eyed head and torso until the grand papa of the great whites goes for her throat, wrenching her head off in a crimson spray. He swims around with it in his mouth as the rest of the sharks devor what is left of her.
"Good timing." James comments, looking at his watch. "That didn't take more then fifteen seconds! Rick, it looks like you are next..."
* * *

Rick and Craig are standing on a bridge overlooking train tracks. They've changed into dry clothes.
"And here we are at the fourth and final round. Rick and Craig have made it through the shark tank stunt because the sharks became ill after consuming Sherry. I feel so sorry for those poor bastards." He looks at the two men. "Are you ready for the final stunt?"
"Why don't you fucking blow me?" Rick suggests and James smirks.
"Not until your blood test comes back negative big guy." James turns to the camera. "Our final stunt for the day is hair raising indeed. We are standing on a bridge over southern California's best form of public transportation, the Coaster. These trains travel at approximately seventy miles an hour. As the train reaches the bridge our contestants will climb the fence and jump twenty feet to the roof of the train and then ride it to the next station. The top of the train is completely smooth, with next to nothing to hold onto, with high velocity winds whipping by. Are you guys ready?"
They both mumble and James smiles.
"Okay Rick, you'll go first. Stand right over there."
Rick gets into position.
"When I say so, you may begin to climb the fence. If the audience will note that this isn't a standard chain link fence, the holes are much smaller to deter young kids and lunatics from attempting this...and go!"
Rick throws himself at the fence. He isn't even a third of the way up when the train is already coming out the other side, rushing past at a dizzying speed. He finally makes it to the top and, without hesitating, launches himself up and over. Crashing onto the last car of the train, the strong wind lifts him up off of his stomach and to his feet before he flies over backwards, leaving the top of the train and crashing to the tracks below. James and craig peer over the side and see that his neck is at an odd angle and he isn't moving. Just as suddenly another train comes rushing through and his body is vaporized in a vivid splash, body parts flying with random abandon.
"Oh, right. I forgot about the second train." James says, then turns to Craig. "Alright champ, all you have to do is complete this stunt and you will go home a million dollars richer. Ready?"
But Craig is backing away, the look on his face suggesting he isn't so brave after all.
"You know, I think I changed my mind. I forfeit."
"Didn't you read the rules of the game Craig?" James says in a chastising voice, shaking his head.
"Sure I did..."
"No you didn't, because if you did you would know that their is no backing down on Fear Zone XXX. We play to the death."
"But, but...I don't want to do it!"
"Who does? But rules are rules."
"You can't make me!"
"Actually, we can. Hey guys!" James calls and three burly men come forward, grabbing Craig by the arms and around his waist.
"Last chance, are you sure you don't want to do this by yourself? You stand a better chance that way."
"You guys are fucking crazy!"
"We're crazy? We're fucking crazy? Your the one that agreed to be on this show! Do I take that as a no?"
"Go to hell you bastard!"
"Very well. Here comes the next train." James says. "Launch him boys!"