Levelling Up

“Hello! And welcome back to The Titan Factor!”

The presenter’s voice rolled out across the streams like a honeyed wave, assisted by the latest A.I. voice modulator technology. The average viewer would be finding this speech both pleasing and pleasant. The presenter was wearing a light peach, three piece suit with cornflower blue tie and a monocle over his left eye.

Years ago, when the show had been new and only syndicated across one feed
one night a week, a presenter had worn the most outrageous ensemble they could think of. Screen grabs of the first few episodes of that season had gone viral, spreading across the socials from Southern California to Seoul, Korea and the tradition was born. From then, until the show was cancelled nine years later, each subsequent presenter was encouraged to push the envelope and, even though this was a revival, the producers were keeping that particular tradition alive.

Standing in front of the revamped Titan Factor assault course the presenter slipped his fingers behind his tie and flicked it up and over his shoulder. He perched one foot up on an over turned shopping trolley, that had been strategically placed to compliment the post-apocalyptic theme, to reveal he was wearing lime green leather boots.

“My name is Louis Copernicus and if you’re just joining us you’ve missed out on an exciting first half of the day as our contestant’s found themselves dealing with a whole cavalcade of delights.”

As the presenter continued the feed switched to a highlight reel of the action so far. It showed four competitors starting out solving puzzles along side each other. They were each wearing a black unitard with the The Titan Factor logo across the chest with accents that showed each competitors colour. They were red, yellow, blue and green respectively. The highlight reel continued, focusing in on each one as they tried to construct a pyramid shape out of large interlinked wooden blocks. One screen wiped into another showing the remaining three contestants all sitting in a line with headphones on answering questions. With that the reel ended and the feed returned to the presenter. He had relocated to a different part of the assault course and was now standing in front of a water trap obstacle. The camera operator was lining things up and a PA was standing by with some large idiot boards. Rob could see that this was a message about a sponsor for the show so, they still had a few minutes before they were due to start.

He was wearing the unitard with the red accents and was fussing over the position of the pads over his elbows and his knees. Bobby, his manager, had drilled into him and all his fellow competitors that you should behave as if the camera was always on you so, he was trying to put on a show of confidence and calm. Too many competitors became famous for things they had been caught doing when they thought that no one was looking. Bobby always cited the case of Chad the Adjuster, a high ranked competitive player on Wheel of Luck. The clip of Chad with his hand down the front of his trousers had only lasted a second but it had been more than enough to go viral and destroy any chance he had of continuing his career in game shows. Last Rob heard he had tried to get a podcast off the ground on the back of that fame but, as far as the investors were concerned, it was the wrong kind of fame. Rob had always thought that Chad should have tried to go into the adult entertainment sector; try to wrangle that notoriety into a presenting gig or something. It had worked for others.

He was joined by his competition, Gordon Burns (34) from Cardiff, sporting the blue accents on his own unitard.

“How do you want to play this?” asked Gordon.

Rob looked at him and tilted his head in confusion.

“I want to play to win.” he said.

“Is that what you’ve been told to do?”

“What do you mean by that?”

But Gordon wasn’t listening to him. Instead he was looking towards where the crew were standing. Rob followed his gaze to see what was going on. The small crew were standing a little ways away from the camera, gathered in a small knot having a discussion. Rob could see that one of them was gesticulating and pointing to each crew member in turn. There seemed to be a question and the crew were pushing each other for an answer. Rob was just considering asking what was going on when the group seemed to reach an agreement and then immediately boarded a mini bus that pulled away from the assault course and drove away.

“Have they abandoned us?” asked Rob.

“I think they might have.” said Gordon.

The presenter, seeing his crew depart without a word, decided to leave also. With his long-suffering assistant bustling around him, he was bundled into an oversized truck with tinted windows and whisked away leaving dust trails on the road behind him.

“Yep,” said Gordon “We’ve been abandoned.”

They stood for a moment watching the presenter’s vehicle shrinking into the distance.

“It’s a union thing, apparently” said Bobby.

The two of them, unable to think of what else to do, had started walking back. Once they were able to get phone signal Rob had reached out to Bobby to see if he knew what was going on.

“What does that mean for us?”

Rob glanced at Gordon.

“Hang fire for now. The dispute could be resolved very quickly and they’ll want to get back to filming immediately. Need you nearby if that happens.” said Bobby

“We’re almost at the compound now.” said Rob “I’ll call you if anything changes.”

They arrived back to find everything in a lull. The once busy and bustling compound where they filmed several shows all at the same time, with competitors of all shapes and sizes coming and going, was now eerily quiet. They wandered into the common room to find two of the female competitors wearing similar unitards with coloured accents. They were slumped on the sofa watching Amore Island and grabbing fistfuls of popcorn from the large bowl between them.

“Your show on hold too?” asked Gordon.

“Shhhhh!” they said, without turning from the TV.

Rob and Gordon both looked to the big screen and saw that the elimination ritual of Amore Island was about to conclude. Rob recognised his colleague Grace standing in the line up. The ritual takes place on the beach at sunset, surrounded by tiki torches and everyone wearing flower garlands. The remaining contestants line up and under the starlit sky one couple breaks up forever. As Rob watched he noted that Grace must have been playing tactically for she had not coupled up yet but had managed to collect enough favours, brightly coloured handkerchiefs, to secure her place for another week. The handsome male contestant stepped up to the lady on Grace’s left and removed her garland.

“Yasss!” exclaimed Rob and pumped his fist.

“Oh! Come on!” said a female voice.

Both women starting yelling as they leapt up from the sofa, sending the popcorn bowl flying.

“That is so unfair! That was a strategic play because he knows that she is too powerful-”

“You go boy! That was awesome, send that bitch back home with her-”

When the yelling stopped they noticed that the credits had started to roll and Amore Island was over for another week. There were the twenty four hour live stream cameras dotted about the island that people could subscribe to but only die hard ‘Amorites’ watched those. Now that it was over the women introduced themselves.

“Oh hey, I’m Penny.”

She held out her hand and Rob shook it.

“Rob” he said “This is Gordon. Who’s your friend?”

They looked over to see the other lady pick up a sofa cushion and launch it across the room.

“Damn it!” she cried.

“That’s Michael.” said Penny.

Michael kicked over a side table before turning to face them.

“You done?” asked Gordon.

“Yes.” said Michael but continued to stomp around staring at the TV.

There was a perfunctory round of hand shakes and introductions before they realised they didn’t actually have much to talk about. It was the nature of the industry, they were professional contestants and, when at work, everyone is your competition. They were saved when a familiar TV theme jingle began to play. They looked around to find that The Amethyst Maze was just starting. Without speaking the decision was made. Michael retrieved the cushion she had kicked away, Penny and Gordon brushed the spilled popcorn off the sofa, and Rob managed to find a handful of beers in the fridge. He handed them out and they all sat down to enjoy some unique nineties goodness.

“What are we going to tell our trainers about this?” asked Michael sipping her beer.

“It’s research.” said Rob. “With The Titan Factor making a comeback this show could be next.”

With that explanation squared away, they got back to watching the eccentric presenter. He was bald and pale and very English. He looked directly into the camera and spoke as he slipped on a fur coat and cowboy hat. Behind him the contestants were crawling into a pipeline to their first zone.

“It’s Mumsy you see, it’s been quite cold recently and I-”

After a few episodes of The Amethyst Maze they switched over to a stream showing Crusoe, a reality show with people surviving together on a deserted island.

“I always wanted to go on this show.” said Penny.

“I heard the prize money wasn’t very good.” said Gordon.

“Yeah, but you get to live on a desert island.” said Penny.

“In a hut made from a tarpaulin sheet and some sticks.” said Rob “It’s not the four seasons.”

“I would do it.” said Michael.

“Yeah, me too.” said Gordon “I love all that survival stuff.”

After some more TV shows they moved onto the pool table. They started off with a knockout tournament and then played men versus women. They were all several beers deep by this point and sitting around a table.

“So, we have to work together see,” Gordon was drunk and slurring his words a little “And I’ve got one end of this hose and the other guy he’s trying to-”

Gordon slipped sideways off his stool and crashed into Rob. They both fell to the floor laughing. Penny stood up and had to grip the edge of the table for support. Through fits of giggles she tried to speak.

“Are you guys okay?”

“I think it might be time for bed.” said Gordon.

The hangover that greeted Rob when he awoke was not helped at all by the squad of production assistants who came crashing in at around five in the morning. In short order, the competitors were hustled from their beds and onto set for filming. Rob and Gordon were ferried back out to yesterdays assault course, the short ride punctuated by a round of groans every time the vehicle hit a bump in the road.

“I guess the dispute was settled overnight.” said Gordon.

They both had their eyes closed against the glare of the morning sun.

“These things tend to get sorted very quickly.” said Rob “One way or another.”

With a stomach churning jolt the SUV came to a stop and the side door was slung open. There were yet more PAs waiting for them who began calling and pulling at them to disembark. Too tired and groggy to put up much of a fight the two men were soon out of the vehicle and blinking in the daylight. Thankfully, they were furnished with coffee and bacon rolls and finally able to look around and make sense of their surroundings. They saw that the camera crew had been replaced with all new faces. These men and women were fussing over the equipment getting ready for the day.

“One way or another.” said Gordon.

“We should get to our starting points.” said Rob.

As he turned to go Rob noticed the huge shiny Rolls Royce that was parked nearby. The morning light causing the chrome to shine and sparkle.

“Gentlemen.” said a new voice.

Both Rob and Gordon turned to see who was addressing them now. He was wearing a sharp black suit with every detail toned down, all smooth edges and flat surfaces. He looked like an undertaker.

“I need to talk to you both.” he said.

They stepped aside from the starting points. Rob glanced around and realised that for once there were no PAs around them. There was no one to hear this conversation.

“Here’s the thing.” said the undertaker “Rob, we need you to lose.”

“I don’t understand.” said Rob.

“We want Gordon to advance to the Finals where he will lose to Bradley.”

“Who’s Bradley?” asked Gordon.

When he spoke, Rob’s voice was flat.

“He was a finalist from last season. He was injured. Broke his back falling from the zip line on this very assault course. Must have cost a fortune to spin that in a positive way.”

The undertaker shrugged before speaking.

“Seven figures and a documentary series about his road to recovery. Best thing that ever happened to him really. No one gave a damn about our safety practices once they realised they could watch a broken man make his tear filled return to competition.”

He said the last part with mock sincerity.

“The course is safe though, right?” asked Gordon.

“Of course.” said the undertaker but there was no conviction in his voice.

“And his triumphant return will culminate in him winning the season?” asked Rob.

“Most likely. Or he’ll fall just short of victory. Either one would make for a great ending.”

“So, why do I have to lose today?” asked Rob “Why does it have to be Gordon who wins?”

Gordon screwed up his face but also shrugged.

“Because our graphics team is already working on the merchandise for the finale. T-shirts, mugs, catchphrases, key chains. Everything is already at the printers, you understand?”

And there it was. The beginning of the end. The wind down of his career. Too many loses and now, now he wasn’t going to be on the merchandise. The undertaker looking guy smiled and slapped them both on the shoulder before heading back to his huge shiny car.

“So, what do we do now?” said Gordon.

Rob saw that at least he looked ashamed knowing that his good fortune came at the expense of another.

“It’s okay,” said Rob “We should go.”

And then they were back on their starting blocks. Facing the revamped Titan Factor assault course. The Presenter, still wearing his peach suit came striding over brandishing his microphone like a weapon. The camera team started counting down, the presenter put on his camera face and…

“Welcome back!”