Peter Oh’Tool turned and motioned off stage and another woman wearing just a thong and pasties covering her nipples entered pushing a clear plastic box on wheels. The box was filled with cash. “The winner,” Peter Oh’Tool continued, “gets a million dollars!”
I doubted the box actually contained all of the million dollars, but it was still impressive to see. The crowd of dorks whistled and shouted the name of the girl, apparently another recognizable porn star. I didn’t pay much mind to Ivana Stroikya, though. My attention was all on that cash.
Peter Oh’Tool thanked Ivana and turned back to the crowd. He said, “Before we start to play the game, let’s meet the contestants, shall we?”
I barely paid attention to the other contestants. They really didn’t matter. As far as I was concerned, this was not a head-to-head competition. It was all about competing against oneself. It was about overcoming the fear of being on camera, of getting naked when you knew thousands of eyes would see you in all your awkward glory, of having sex with strangers that would be broadcast to more strangers. This was what consumed my thoughts. This was my focus and my main concern. One thought kept rolling through my head, even as the spotlight glared on me and words fell out of my mouth:
Can I do this?
Am I man enough to do this?
Once they finished the introductions, and I stumbled pretty badly through mine, it was time to reveal the first challenge.
“This is the only time our contestants will be in the same room together until the final coronation ceremony,” Peter Oh’Tool said. “That’s because, as soon as we reveal the first challenge, they’ll be whisked back home and the game will begin!”
The crowd cheered on cue and Peter Oh’Tool smiled through it. Once they quieted down, he said, “And just what will that first test be?”
A marquee with flashing strobes along its edges dropped down from the ceiling on cables and everyone watched its dark display, waiting with great anticipation. Just when the crowd was starting to get restless, shouting out garbled guesses I couldn’t make out, the marquee lit up with the answer, in large, yellow letters:
The crowd went wild.
The Abe Lincoln
That first challenge seems like a distant memory, even though it just happened two days ago. Reflecting on it now, it really wasn’t that bad, especially considering how well Challenge No. 2 went. Did I mention how great the standing fuckhouse was? Well, I’ll say it again. Danielle and I were asleep within minutes, both of us completely spent. I was still a little lightheaded from the pain in my ribs and under my eye, but it was totally worth it. I’m lying on the side that doesn’t hurt and she has a long, muscular arm wrapped around me in a very tight but tender cuddle. I feel like a teddy bear.
I drift off to a happy place. I think it’s a meadow. Danielle and I are there together. She’s skipping through the tall grasses and wheat stalks. I’m riding on her back, nibbling on her neck and making her laugh. She kicks at the wheat and sends chaff into the air and it swirls around us in slow motion through the amber light. This would make a perfect douche commercial.
But the sun moves behind a cloud. The warmth drains out of the air and we’re standing there in the middle of the meadow, both beginning to shiver. The golden wheat stalks are gray and dying now, their stems breaking off. The sound of merry, chirping birds disappears, all the tiny forest animals enjoying our presence were now gone.
But we’re not alone.
I slide off Danielle’s back and turn and I’m face-to-face with a massive bear. It’s right behind us, looming, casting a black shadow over us as it raises its huge paws. I’m a statue of fear. The bear places its terrible paw on my shoulder and bends over, huffing awful, rotted meat breath into my face as it opens its mouth.
“Dennis! Wake the fuck up!”
I open my eyes and see Mongo. His head is turned sideways so it’s parallel with mine and he’s shaking my shoulder with his huge paw and whisper-yelling at me, “Hey! Wake up homo! Have golden opportunity!”
I freak a little. I jump up and think I scream again. I’ll have to wait for this episode to air later to find out for sure. It won’t be the first time I screamed this evening. I’m guessing this will be the “Dennis Screams then Creams” episode. Maybe I can get an endorsement deal from a primal therapy salon after this is over.
I know I’m screaming for sure now, because the bear has me. His paw is clamped over my mouth and he’s hauling me across the room, and doing so without much trouble, I note. He carries me out of the room, whispering in my ear to shut the fuck up before I wake up tall, gangly whore. The bear says we still need gangly whore to complete next challenge.
He lets me go when we get outside the room and gently shuts the door. He presses a fat finger to his lips and points to room 27, our base of operations. I’m still trying to make certain he really isn’t a bear. In this light, I still can’t tell.
Mongo gets impatient and grabs me behind the neck and guides me into the room.
“Ow, OK, OK, OK, I’m going.”
He lets go and points to the laptop on the dresser opposite the room’s two beds.
“Watch video,” he says.
“Already? Jesus, don’t you think we can wait until tomorrow for the next challenge? I’m tired, I’m sore, and in case you hadn’t noticed, I’ve still got a girl in the room. You expect me to just wake her up, shove her out the door and go –”
“Shut mouth. Watch video.”
Mongo looms over me just like the bear in my dream. I’m scared. I do my best not to make pee-pee and turn my attention to the laptop. The video player is cued up so I mouse over and click play.
Peter Oh’Tool’s smiling face appears and he says, “Congratulations on completing the alligator fuckhouse! Nice going, champ! Now that you’ve taken care of that one, you’re ready to move on to the next challenge. Like the previous one, this test will require stealth and the element of surprise, but also something more. You’ll be required to move in silence and attempt daring feats without being caught to pull off one of the greatest sexual pranks in history…”
He pauses for dramatic effect and poorly rendered graphics spin onto the screen at the same time as Peter Oh’Tool shouts out the next challenge: “The Abe Lincoln!”
I say, “What the fuck is an Abe Lincoln?”
Mongo says, “Shut up and watch.”
I do what Mongo says.
I watch as Peter Oh’Tool explains the procedures involved with the Abe Lincoln. There’s also a short video recap, just like the previous challenges. Once it’s over, I stand there staring at the quiet screen, pondering this latest trial.
“I don’t know if I can do this one.”
Mongo says, “Why the hell not?”
I shrug and back away from him a bit. “I don’t know. It just seems… mean.”
Mongo laughs and closes the computer lid. “What kind of contest you think this is? This is not ‘Mr. Nice Man’ contest. This is conquest contest! This is King of Perverts! And these just bitches. What is to worry?”
“Well, you can start by not calling them bitches. I have yet to meet a single woman whom I truly wish to do any of this to, especially this thing to this girl in particular. She’s nice, she doesn’t deserve to have me do this to her.”
“I am still not seeing problem. Is no harm done to her. You go in, you snip-snip, you jerk-jerk, and then is like putting on makeup. No harms come to her.”
He’s right, but that still doesn’t make me feel better. “I know, but it’s just so mean-spirited.”