Captivating TV

jOlt Intense 2.4

"I'm outraged," Trey Vincent said.

He was backstage in his own private room. And he was not alone. Keeping him company, sitting on a forest-green leather sofa was a beautiful red- head who was wearing red leather pants and a low-cut white top. Trey, meanwhile, was wearing black cargo pants and yet another TV-shirt, which simply said "As Seen On TV" on the front, and "Just buy the shirt" on the back. No doubt a soon-to-be best seller at every jOlt show and on the jOlt Internet merchandise site whenever it opens.

"Why are you outraged," she asked him.

"Because, Britney, if that's your REAL name, last week something awful happened. Granted, something awful happens on this show every week, usually when I'm not on it, but this time it happened WHILE I was on it. My personality was SO overwhelming, the satellites couldn't handle it! And millions of TV fans were robbed of seeing me totally destroy that guy I taught the sports entertainment lesson of a lifetime to. Totally one- sided, no offense, he had nuthin'.

"But now I'm sure people will think I'm just talking out of my ass. But everyone who was there knows. He knows. And everyone in jOlt knows. But, surely, everyone knows just how great Trey Vincent is. Look at me. Look at this body. You know how great it is, don't you darling?"

She rolled her eyes. "Have you seen, MY body?" she said standing up.

"Bitch, shut the fuck up. This is my show, not yours. What the hell am I paying you for?"

She rolled her eyes again.

"Roll your eyes again and," he said shaking his fist at her, why-I- oughta style. "But that's fine. Because at 'Unwanted,' the highest-rated portion of every 'Intense,' the man who guarantees buy-rates and butts in the seats, will deliver what will no doubt be the single best match of all-time. Who will get the honor of losing to Trey Vincent?"

He was silent, looking at Britney.

"Didn't mean to stump you."

"Oh, that wasn't a rhetorical question?"

"Huh?"

"I thought you were in rant mode, as usual. I don't know who your opponent will be. There's a match tonight to figure that out between Johnny Conspireguy and Lawrence Chlamydia."

"Well, whoever they are, doesn't matter. They ain't in Trey Vincent's league. What you see is what you get. And you're looking at the best. I'm like the prize in a box of cereal that you accidentally eat and makes you shit blood. And that's the truth! Because in the end, there can only be one victor. Jobbing ain't in my description."

"What about your match tonight, Trey? Did you forget you have a match?"

"Matches without titles on the line...let me just jump for joy," he said. "I'm in jOlt to win titles, become the biggest name in this business and hurt people. I'm a very simple man, Britney."

A knock at the door interrupted him.

"Who am I sports entertaining?" he asked Britney, opening the door.

"Miles Blunder," she answered.

"Didn't I beat him a couple weeks ago?"

Behind the door was a man dressed in blue coveralls standing behind a 27-inch television set on a TV cart on wheels.

"It's about damn time. How the hell am I supposed to know what's going on my airwaves if I don't watch it? How am I going to know when there is a bad segment I must rescue? Be gone little man."

Trey pulled the TV cart inside and kicked the door shut. He positioned it directly in front of the couch and turned it on. Oddly enough, Trey found himself staring at himself.

"Hey look, I'm on TV."

Britney laughed.

"Damn. Ratings, through the roof! You want to talk about captivating TV. You're looking at him. And it!"

And while on other sports entertainment shows, somebody seeing themselves on TV while they're backstage would mean their segment was just beginning, in Trey's world, it meant segment death. Because he could not pry himself away from himself. So jOlt producers did it for him.

NEXT CHAPTER: Trey Vincent vs. Miles Blunder >>

©2002 John Leary