085 - mint
"Hello, ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to America's most popular food giveaway show, 'Who Wants Pizza?!' I'm your host, Alan C. McGregor, and remember, this is the show where you have the chance to answer 'me!' when we ask," at this, the smiling man in the tuxedo paused, and the large studio audience shouted out in unison: "WHO WANTS PIZZA?!"
The host, who was still wearing the biggest smile possible, somehow seemed even happier after hearing the audience's response. "Haha, alright then! Let's meet our contestants for today!" Alan left the center stage and headed over to the right, where three people were standing behind little platforms that had their names written on them.
Alan approached the first contestant, a gleeful woman in her mid-40s. "What's your name, dear?" he asked her. "Patsy!" she shouted back. "That's great, Patsy. How about you tell us a little bit about yourself?" "Well, Alan, I'm a mother of three from Dearborn, Michigan. I work in accounting and I just want to give a shout out to my mother, Margaret!" She let out a cheer that was reciprocated with applause from the audience.
"Okay, Patsy, and let me ask you the most important question," Alan continued, "Who wants pizza?!" Someone who did not understand the context of the situation might have been forgiven for thinking that she was having a seizure, or some kind of epileptic fit, anyway, when she shouted "ME!!!" in answer to his question. Again, her response was matched with even more enthusiastic cheering and applause from the crowd.
Alan nodded. "Good luck to you! Now, let's step over here and meet our next contestant!" Alan shuffled slightly to Patsy's left, where the next man was standing at another podium. He certainly seemed less enthusiastic than Patsy was, and in fact, seemed downright bored as Alan began to question him with the same vigor and excitement that he had shown Patsy.
"What's your name, young man?" The man just stared Alan dead in the face. "Marcus." That was it. He said nothing more, nor did his voice show any energy in the slightest. It was as if Alan was a police interrogator, and Marcus was trying to invoke his right to remain silent. The host, a professional, though, was not completely unfamiliar with less than stellar contestants. So, he kept his own energy up. "Okay, Marcus. Can you tell me a little bit about yourself?"
"I told you, my name's Marcus." The crowd was silent, and Alan looked briefly offstage, trying to figure out what was going on. "Hmm, well, how about a little more?" he tried to politely goad Marcus. "I'm twenty-six. Unemployed. Got a cat."
Alan, clearly seeing there wasn't much hope here, just nodded. "Uh. huh. Well, okay. Marcus, can you tell me, who wants pizza?!" Although their energy had fallen, with Alan's powerful rendition of the show's name, he had rallied the troops and they began hooting and clapping with full force once again.
On the other hand, Marcus' emotions did not change in the slightest. He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know," he said. "Maybe this guy," he offered, pointing to the man to his left, the contest Alan had not yet interviewed. "Or maybe her, she already said she did, actually," Marcus said, directing back to Patsy.
"But, the point is, I don't," he finished. The crowd was once again silent, although someone did mutter a shocked, "oh my god."
Alan was clearly sweating, although he maintained his grin all the while. He nervously laughed. "Well, why don't we go to a quick break, then?" he asked.