Zuzi Backstage
A studio audience full of Skittle-colored demons clapped feverishly as a neon “Applause!” sign flashed overhead.
Applause!
Applause!
Applause!
The excitement in the room was palpable.
The show was about to start.
“The Wheel!” shouted a buxom purple baddie sitting in the middle of the crowd. “We want the WHEEL!”
The whole crowd got into it.
Clapping intensified.
They began to chant.
“To. The. Wheel.”
“To. The. Wheel.”
“To. The. Wheel.”
Ignoring the tumult of the audience, a small, cornflower-blue demon in a dapper suit stepped up to an offstage podium and flipped through his notes. As the show’s announcer, he was used to the clamor. It was a daily occurrence when you worked on the hottest gameshow going.
Finding what he was looking for, he cleared his throat and switched on the microphone.
Hearing the squawk of the sound system, the crowd quieted expectantly.
The Announcer looked at his producer who gave him a thumbs-up.
Everything was a go.
The “ON AIR” sign lit up.
Taking a deep breath, the Announcer opened his small mouth and began.
“Coming to you LIVE from Hellscapes Studios in the heart of G Cluster, The NUMBER ONE gameshow in the Mystical Realms!” his melodious voice boomed over giant studio speakers. “Welcome TO…THE…WHEEL.”
The crowd went wild.
“We have a stellar line up for you this evening,” the Announcer continued. “Six newly-departed souls will spin for their next lifetimes! Who knows what they’ll win!!”
More applause.
“Among tonight’s prizes is a fantastic life of luxury in 21st-century Bel Air!”
Polite applause this time. A faint “boo” could be heard coming the back. Winning extravagant lifetimes wasn’t what the audience wanted to see.
“That’s right,” the Announcer continued. “With a spin of the Wheel, one lucky soul will be reborn as the child of an 80’s popstar. How exciting! They’ll spend their life competing with friends, having painful plastic surgeries and “starring” in insipid reality shows. ALL in a vain search for validation.”
The applause was louder this time. The audience liked their next lives with a little futility. Even the posh ones.
“But that’s not all!” the Announcer’s rich baritone continued. “One of tonight’s contestants could win a life of drudgery and disease in 15th-century Tudor England! Too tragic!
“As a bastard child of Henry VIII and a lowly chambermaid, this soul will know they have royal blood while cleaning the privy. Add in an early death from the pox and this lifetime is sure to make even the heartiest soul quake.”
The audience clapped with vigorous enthusiasm. This sounded more like it.
“But those aren’t the night’s only prizes,” the Announcer said, knowing what the audience was waiting for. “What do all the souls want?”
Audience members chimed in:
“A good thrashing.”
“A hardboiled egg!”
“Heaven!”
“That’s right,” the Announcer said. “We have what all the souls are dreaming of…A ONEWAY TICKET TO HEAVEN!!!”
A polite smattering of applause. Demons weren’t there to see a happy ending. They much preferred drama and regret.
“And, of course, we have what all the souls are dreading. What they all fear. What they want to avoid at all costs,” the Announcer said, building audience anticipation. “What are they most scared of?”
“HELL!”
“I couldn’t hear you,” the Announcer taunted.
“HELL!”
“That’s right,” the Announcer said happily. “With each and every spin, souls will risk being sent STRAIGHT TO HELL.”
Thunderous applause.
“All that and much, much more awaits tonight’s dearly departed,” the Announcer intoned. “And now, LET’S GET ON WITH THE SHOW!”
This time the clapping erupted in an ardent cacophony of sound.
Butts in seats vibrated as hundreds of cloven hooves enthusiastically stomped the floor.
Taking a deep breath, the Announcer demon’s euphonious voice boomed, “Give a warm, Mystical Realms welcome to tonight’s host, ALEC TRIFECTA.”
The “Applause!” sign blinked madly.
The crowd cheered wildly.
A polished, two-headed demon wearing a dark suit and ties stepped onstage. His bright crimson skin glowed and his mega-watt smiles full of white pointed teeth gleamed in unholy brilliance. One of his heads sported a thick mustache and a riotous cap of curly golden hair. The other head had a smooth-shaven face and dark blonde hair slicked back, hugging his skull.
As he waved to the crowd, they reacted new heights of deafening ovation.
“Woot! Woot! Woot!” a huge green demon stood and started pumping his muscled arm and hollering towards the stage.
“We love you Alec!” shouted a scaly orange demon in the front row.
One of the Alec’s heads laughed with the crowd while the other watched where he was going. He continued waving as he walked to his place next to the giant Wheel.
“And now, give a hearty welcome to our loveliest of lovelies, Alec’s right-hand woman and hostess extraordinaire, VAINA BLANC!”
Wolf whistles and applause erupted as an emaciated demon with fuchsia skin, sunflower yellow hair and a ruby-red sequined evening dress sauntered onto the stage. Vaina waved a clawed hand at the crowd and smiled her insta-bright smile as she took her place near Alec.
As the clapping died down, the Announcer spoke again, “And finally, put your hands or hooves or paws together for tonight’s first contestant…”
Meanwhile, backstage in the gameshow’s makeup room…
Contestants in swivel chairs sat in front of brightly lit mirrors, swathed in salon capes to shield their clothes. Beautician demons bustled around, painting faces and spritzing hair. Excitement and nerves hung heavy in the air.
Hearing the muffled sound of applause through the room’s closed doors, a mauve-colored demon commented to an aquamarine demon, “Sounds like they’re starting.”
“Yup,” the aquamarine makeup demon said as she dabbed powder on Zuzi’s nose.
“Won’t be long now, dearie,” Mauve said to Zuzi as she fluffed her spikey hair.
Zuzi nodded, trying to quell the butterflies in her stomach.
She looked at herself in the mirror. She looked like she had the night she’d died. Just a lot less bloody. The whole thing was so surreal. She could see her dark eyes looking back at her with a mixture of humor and horror.
How the Hell had she ended up on To The Wheel?
Signing up for the show had been a split-second impulse. She and Trixie had been talking about the Wheel and how it was wrong for innocent souls to be sent to Hell and how someone needed to do something about it, but they weren’t sure what could be done…and then, she’d been dead.
Like dead dead. One minute she’d been anticipating hamburgers and tots and the next she’d been lying dead on the ground. It had all happened so fast.
And then a Wheel producer had shown up and offered a spot on the show and it had seemed like a great opportunity. An opportunity to do something. Anything. An opportunity to help save some souls. Maybe. At the very least maybe she could gather information that would help the AIB.
Zuzi grimaced wryly at herself. She hadn’t exactly been thinking clearly. She’d just died, after all. And, she’d wanted her death to mean something. Not just be a stupid, senseless act of random violence.
Although, now that the first flush of sudden death had faded, signing up for the show seemed a tad rash. On the off chance she gathered any incriminating evidence against the show, how would she possibly get it to the AIB or Trixie?
Zuzi sighed. She knew Trixie had to be freaking out. Zuzi wished there was some way to tell Trix she was ok.
And then there was the whole Gameshow-with-consequences aspect of things. Zuzi’s next life was hanging on the spin of a Wheel. What if she got an awful lifetime? Or even worse, what if she got Hell?
Shit.
But it was what it was. She couldn’t change it. It was done.
And now that she was here, she’d do what she could.
The show must go on.
