King of the Perverts Read Online Free PDF Page B

Garnier admitted, “but sufficient for our purposes.”
    I took that to mean cheap. I was brought a glass of mineral water, which I sipped while I listened to Mr. Garnier.
    “I trust your trip out has gone well.”
    “Oh, yeah. Thank you for that. Everything has been amazing.”
    “Now that you’re settled, it’s time to get to it. What do you know about the show so far?”
    “Not much, really. All I’ve been told is that I’m going to be part of a reality game show of some sort.”
    “That’s right. It will be the first of its kind. We’re broadcasting it exclusively online through our website, and we expect it to be very well received. It’s a homerun of an idea.”
    I nodded and sipped, excited to hear more.
    Mr. Garnier smiled as he said, “Dixar Studios is proud to present the first Sexcathlon. The show is called King of the Perverts .”
    I choked on my water. He laughed. Then he explained, talking for twenty minutes straight. My head was spinning by the end. He stood and offered his hand and said, “And now, it’s time to get ready. We’ll film the opening segment tonight. See you there.”
    •
    The rest of the afternoon was a mad dash from wardrobe to makeup to the studio where we would be filming. I was herded into a waiting area, a green room I guess is the correct industry parlance, with nine other guys. They were all very familiar-looking. I felt like I was surrounded by clones. We were all similar – average height and weight, appearance, dressed well in new clothes that looked nothing at all like the kind of threads we wore on a daily basis. We cleaned up well enough, but everyone had the same edge of desperation behind their smiles, the same look in their eyes. Confusion, maybe a little fear, a hint of sadness akin to what I still carried with me following my divorce. Despite the new clothes and pampering, we still had the reek of recent failure on us. Desperation was a scent you couldn’t wash away that easily.
    None of us said anything and before long a dumpy woman with short hair and men’s slacks fetched us from the green room and guided us to the studio. There were two rows of seats off to the side of a stage set up on risers, and we were herded there. We sat and waited, a curtain separating us from what sounded like an audience filing into a theater on the other side. A murmur of anticipation penetrated the curtain and I started to sweat. I was getting more nervous the longer we sat there and waited.
    Finally the studio began to brighten as more lights came on. The curtain raised and we all squinted against the lights shining in our faces. My nervousness jumped by a factor of ten when I saw the audience and the cameras. Producers just behind the cameras flashed hand signals to each other. I wondered if this was what it felt like to face a firing squad.
    Somewhere offstage, an announcer jumped into the show’s intro spiel, his deep voice reverberating through the soundstage.
    “From the publishers of the very finest cliterature in the land, the purveyors of only the best in cinematic and online fapfests, the most popular entertainment company in the world, Dixar Studios presents the new game show that’s taking the country by storm! Ladies and gentlemen, freaks and sluts, connoisseurs of smut from around the world, you are about to witness the first ever Sexcathlon! Where the contestants must complete ten sexy challenges of increasing difficulty for the chance to win ONE MILLION DOLLARS! Please welcome your hosts, four-time AVN award winner, the man with the industry’s Golden Rod of Love, Peter Oh’Tool, and the hottest young female talent on the planet, Miss Juicy Cumdumpster, as we get set to play…”
    On cue, the studio audience, which appeared to be about 99 percent pasty, white, unshowered males of all ages, took their cue from one of the off-camera producers and shouted in unison, “KING OF THE PERVERTS!”
    Mr. Garnier strolled onto the stage in a pair of skin-tight