The camera-dude wiped his lens carefully. The director yelled at him to hurry up. Grunting, the camera dude put away his cleaning equipment.
"Okay, we start rolling on three, two, one," started the floor manager. The cameras rolled, the mics turned on and the perky makeup artist left the hostess alone. The director observed everything with a critical eye.
"Hello, my name is Lea O'Neill and I'll be hosting History Channel's new documentary, First World Torture Devices, where we will explore the twenty-first century's America's most gruesome torture methods. We have some… volunteers to try out the effectiveness of these tortures. Let's check it out, okay?"
"Cut! Okay, we've got it. Let's roll the torture," shrieked the director.
The hostess – a pretty blonde woman wearing a suit - sighed heavily, her mega-watt smile leaving her face. "Oh my god. Are we really doing this?"
"Of course we are, hon!" replied the producer.
"But, why? I mean, are we seriously making these people withstand such horrible situations?"
The producer shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, you can't spell guilty conscience without the word science, can you?" said the man, while grabbing the hostess's wrist. "Just imagine all those dorks and geeks and pyromaniacs and creepy people out there, not knowing how easy it'd be to torture their enemies or that hot chick who turned you down! How will they survive?"
"Huh?"
"Exactly! They need this, Lea! They need you to tell them the perfect revenge, and maybe even how to take over the world!"
"I'm sorry, Dylan, I just don't understand"
Dylan sighed. "Well, look at it this way; I would've killed for a list like this when I was a teenager"
"What the-" just as Lea was about to respond, the director shouted "Hurry up, we've gotta get this done!"
"Whoops! Looks like you've got to go, sweetheart!"
And just like that, Dylan the creepy producer pushed the hostess towards the exit of the set.
When Lea arrived at the next set, she felt horrified. It was a public shower. What's worse than a friggin' public shower?
She walked in to find the cameras being set up and the mics being installed and some random assistant placing the director's chair in the perfect position. She also saw a rather gloomy-looking teenaged guy sitting in a couch, picking dirt off his nails.
Lea grabbed the floor manager's jacket. "Who the hell's that kid?"
The floor manager quickly glanced at the person in question. "Ah, that'd be our volunteer."
"You mean the guy we paid to so he'd sit through this shit?"
"Pretty much."
She blinked. "Okay, then"
The floor manager quickly got far away from Lea and continued fretting over anything that went slightly wrong. The dude had a serious case of OCD.
A lady with some makeup came towards her and began powdering her face.
"Listen up, everyone!" yelled the director once everything was ready. "Let's wrap this up!"
The floor manager placed Lea in front of the camera. "Nico!" he called to the kid sitting in the corner. "Come here!"
The guy rolled his eyes and walked to where Lea was standing.
"Okay, you ready?"
"Whatever."
"That's the attitude. Good luck!" the floor manager said as he slowly retreated behind camera 1. "Rolling in three, two, one," he made a hand gesture.
Lea put on her blinding smile once again. "Now, we're about to begin the first torture. But first of all, let's meet our volunteer. What's your name?"
The kid just stared at her, completely expressionless. Oh, wait, there was an expression on his face; boredom. "Nico."
"Nico… what?"
"Doesn't matter. Next question."
I can't work with this. "Okay, Nico, what brings you here?"
"I needed the money."
"Riiight… So, you ready for the first torture?"
"Yeah."
"Well, let's see what it's all about!"
"Whatever."
Lea had the list memorized. And she felt so goddamn sorry for this dude.
"As you may have noticed, the location is a public shower. We made Nico drink an incredible ten gallons of 50 Cent-flavored Vitamin Water, so we're sure he'll feel the urge to pee. We'll have him take a shower with no sandals on, and have a creepy old dude stare at him all the time." Lea said as the camera swept all over the set.
Nico's eyes widened. "You wouldn't"
"Oh, but we did!"
"…"
"…"
"I'm not doing that."
"You need the cash."
"Crap."
"Just cooperate. I'm sure it won't be so horrible!"
Nico snorted. "Right."
As the 'volunteer' prepared to endure the torture, Lea just continued reading her dialogue.
"Okay, the torture will start now. If you feel it's too unbearable, just make the secret signal or shriek in pain."
"Okay."
Lea pressed a button in the remote control the producer had given her and the curtains to the shower closed, while a very creepy old dude peeked over the wall that separated the stalls. Sure, the Son of Hades was pretty uncomfortable, but nothing unbearable. Then, he heard a loud, old female voice talking over some speakers he hadn't noticed. Somehow he recognized what the voice was talking about.
Could it be…?
He peeked through the corner and found Lea taking notes in her pad.
"Hey, um, Lea?"
She slowly looked up. "Yeah?"
"You know that thing blasting through the speakers?"
"Yes. What about it?"
"Is there any chance it might be-"
"Game of Thrones spoilers. Yes."
Nico's eyes widened. "What?"
Lea shrugged. "Hey, it's torture."
"B-but… You can't expect me to sit through this… this… it's too horrible!"
"I'm sorry, young man, you signed a contract."
"A contract?"
"Yes," responded the hostess as she pulled a paper out of her pad. "A contract."
"!"
(A/N): Okay! So, I'm back. Let me explain this: I was talking to my French friend about ancient torture devices when suddenly I remember a College Humor article, "First World Torture Devices". And I thought, "Hey, what if they filmed a documental about that?" Then I thought about how Hades probably neglected Nico any sort of financial aid, so Nico would have to work someday to get stuff. Then, while eating a doughnut, the two ideas mashed together, and so this one-shot was born. Hopefully, it's funny and gives you great ideas to torture your foes.
I sure liked it.
Note: this is a one-shot, but I've got more ideas around this concept. If I get the right response, I may post them. I'll most likely post them anyway, but *shrugs* I kinda care.
Love, Coffee, Turtles, (I wonder why I still do this...)
{{Cass}}