2 comments/ 13870 views/ 7 favorites The Moment of Ruth By: ArbagastLives THE MOMENT OF RUTH None of the following is based on any real characters, places or TV shows. Note that this while story is set in the U.S., I myself am English, so I expect there's a few 'cultural' errors in there! Anyway I hope you enjoy this, it took a while to write. There's lots of italicised passages which make it easier to read, so I hope they don't remove them all in transcription. (from News Nightly, 15th August:) HAS TELEVISION FINALLY GONE TOO FAR? Uproar over 'indecent and outrageous' behaviour on 'The Moment of Truth'! Viewers' organisations across the US are up in arms over a "gross obscenity" on popular cable game show 'The Moment Of Truth', where competing teams of college students are challenged to face their fears. The incident occurred during the live broadcast of a round known as 'Spit or Swallow', in which players are made to eat bowlfuls of unpleasant concoctions. The game -- a regular fixture on the show -- entails each individual being presented with a bowlful of unidentified 'food' to fill their mouths; but only once they've crammed in the last spoonful are the mystery ingredients disclosed! Next comes the moment of truth: will the contestant choose to spit... or swallow? The first to stomach their noxious meal adds a whacking $50,000 to the team's prize-pot. But any hesitation, and a player may find themselves out of the game. "People's reactions when they find out what they're actually eating can be hysterical," commented Janice Wolcjinski, editor of the show's fan-site, "... it's invariably the highlight of the show!" The final program of the season went out at the weekend, with a slight change to the format of the 'spit or swallow' round: this time the disgusting suppers would be prepared live, in front of the prospective diners. Previous delicacies featured on the menu have included boiled worms and puréed pig's testicles; but for the season finalé, things went a step further -- many would say a step too far! The result, broadcast on Saturday night, was so controversial that transmission was actually halted at one stage. But it didn't stop hundreds of people in the audience seeing exactly what happened next, including witness Jane Wyvenshaw, who told us: "The climax of the 'Spit or Swallow' game was simply disgusting. Because it was the final show, everyone guessed there'd be something special on the menu; but when the football team marched on stage and got their wedding tackle out, the whole thing descended into farce. That girl they were up against was clearly an actress -- c'mon, there's no way you'd get an ordinary member of the public prepared to do something like that on national television! And her 'scandalized young innocent' expression, when they told her what she was supposed to do, was so laughably over the top!" "What happened next must surely be one of the most blatant set-ups ever seen on TV. Any fool could see that, once the boys had finished jacking off, a little stage trickery was used to switch the bowl for one full of egg whites, and that's what we witnessed disappearing down the girl's throat. But this view certainly isn't shared by all. In fact many people have praised the girl at the centre of the row -- 19-year-old Ruth Chokier from Furfield, Connecticut -- for the way she handled a very sticky situation. Another audience member, Melissa Fearnbush, gave us her view of the night's events: "I did find the 'Spit or Swallow' round hard to watch, but I saw enough to tell it wasn't faked! When Ruth squared up to that football team, we knew we were watching the ultimate contest -- just one young babe versus eleven beefy men! Would it all be too much for her?... that was the question on everyone's lips. But Ruth surprised us all; she seemed determined prove she could take anything the boys could dish out. That girl from Furfield might look delicate on the outside but, after last night, everyone knows exactly what she's got on the inside!" And the plucky teenager's performance also won acclaim from her team-mates -- even though it wasn't quite enough to carry Furfield through to the final round. Her colleague Chloe told us: "Yeah, Ruth really came good for us. Because she'd been a last-minute replacement, she was a bit of an unknown quantity. But when her big moment came, it stuck to her gums -- oops! I mean, she stuck to her guns, and showed a real desire to succeed. The only question then was, did she have the stomach to finish the job? I needn't have worried: it all went down incredibly smoothly, thanks to spunky little Ruth." Despite Ruth's undeniable achievement, the broadcast resulted in an outpouring of criticism, with many people branding the show "a sordid spectacle" and the participants "utterly shameless". And some highly acerbic comments regarding Ruth's personal propriety caused her team-mate Nicole to speak out in defence of her friend's actions: "People are very quick to pass judgement, but unless you've actually been in that situation, you can't imagine what it's like. Our team had gone through hell for that money; by the end of the show, we were so pumped-up, we'd have done anything to get our hands on it -- literally, anything!!" Ruth's performance would certainly seem to confirm that view; but in order to assess all the evidence, News Nightly was permitted to see the complete footage of Saturday's broadcast, and our media correspondent has been hard at work reviewing that night's events... * * * * The two students stand on the brightly-lit stage, anxious hand movements betraying their nervous state. Both in their late teens, they seem very exposed in their respective spotlights. Their eyes, like those of everyone else in the studio, are fixed on the covered containers before them, silently speculating as to the nature of the game they'll be asked to participate in. They can be sure of one thing: it won't be anything good! Hovering nearby is Jerry, the show's genial host, bursting with false bonhomie as he prepares to break the bad news: "WELL THEN, AMBER AND SHERRI... JUST YOUR TWO TEAMS LEFT IN IT NOW! SO REMEMBER, FROM HERE ON IN, THERE'S NO PRIZES FOR COMING SECOND: JUST $50,000 FOR THE WINNER -- SIMPLE AS THAT!" Over in the 'waiting room', their team-mates -- girls from Greenvale and Furfield colleges -- watch events on the overhead monitors. Denied communication with the players, all they can do is look on impotently, unable even to provide encouragement. All are wondering if this next challenge might prove too much to bear: just six games in, and one team has already dropped out, while the remaining two teams have just two and three active players left. But even this may not last, as Jerry is quick to point out: "AND OF COURSE, SAME RULES APPLY, LOSE A GAME AND YOU LOSE A PLAYER!" Jerry gives an exaggerated look of apology, implying that the rules are completely out of his hands. "AND SO, ON TO ROUND SEVEN!" He turns and signals to the wings; the covers are abruptly whipped away, revealing two large glass fish tanks full of foul, discoloured liquid. The girls' eyes widen in horror: the water is churning with hundreds of wriggling, bloodsucking leeches! And not just the regular kind: these are huge tropical beasts, three and four inches long. Some have already caught the scent of food on the air and wave their snaking proboscises out of the water. At the bottom of the bowls are two red buttons surrounded by wire frames. It's pretty obvious what the contestants' fate will be: one way or another, they're going to be asked to plunge their delicate, manicured hands into that unspeakable nightmare to press those buttons! "GUYS, WE'VE GOT A REAL SIMPLE JOB FOR YOU. IN FACT IT'S SO SIMPLE, YOU SHOULD BE ABLE TO DO IT WITH YOUR HANDS TIED BEHIND THEIR BACKS -- RIGHT FELLAS?" Transfixed by the hideous sight before them, the girls haven't noticed two stagehands arrive at the rear of the set. The new arrivals each brandish a pair of handcuffs and, before the girls can protest, their arms are restrained behind their backs, cuffs snapped firmly shut around their wrists. "OK, SHERRI AND AMBER, HERE'S YOUR TASK: ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS PRESS THOSE BUTTONS AT THE BOTTOM OF YOUR BOWLS. EACH TIME YOU HIT THEM, IT WILL BE ADDED TO YOUR COUNTER AND WHOEVER HAS THE HIGHEST TOTAL TIME AT THE END IS THE WINNER!" They stare at the buttons; Jerry answers the obvious question before they can ask it: "OF COURSE, YOU CAN'T USE YOUR HANDS NOW -- IN FACT, I THINK YOU'LL FIND THE ONLY WAY TO REACH THOSE BUTTONS IS WITH YOUR TONGUES -- GOOD LUCK!!" Gasps echo around the studio; the two girls stare at the host as if he's quite mad -- stick their tongues into that swarming horde of ravenous parasites, is he serious? But if he's joking he shows no sign of it. The dreaded countdown to the start of the round is underway, with the audience gradually joining in: "TEN... NINE... EIGHT... SEVEN... " The handcuffed girls can be seen holding a frantic conversation. Their voices are inaudible over the increasing hubbub, but the indignation in their faces is clear -- for the first time in the show' history, are both players actually going to refuse a task?! The automatic countdown continues, building to a crescendo: "SIX... FIVE... FOUR... THREE... TWO... ONE... and GO!!" There's an awkward pause with the two contestants just standing there. They know that as long as neither breaks ranks, this game won't happen and those sickos in the control room will just have to come up with something else! "TIMES-A-WASTIN', LADIES!" the smarmy host scolds them; he doesn't suspect anything other than natural aversion on the part of the players. The crowd don't understand, and begin heckling the uncooperative players. The noise builds... It's the Furfield girl, Sherri, who cracks first. Suddenly she's sprinting towards her fish tank, leaving her Greenvale opponent looking betrayed. As she stands over the fish tank, she hesitates; the surface is so thick with blackish-brown bloodsuckers, it hardly looks like water at all. Then she takes a deep breath and plunges her pretty face into the seething soup. All Sherri wants is to hit the trigger quickly with her nose, just to register something on the scoreboard. Scared to open her eyes, she feels her way towards the metal frame and that all-important button. But the bars of the wire cage are just too narrow for her nose to reach. It seems as though Jerry was telling the truth: they will have to use their tongues for this job! Sherri promptly withdraws her face before the critters can realise what a feast they've just missed out on. Seeing her competitor escape apparently unscathed Amber, the Greenvale player, hurries towards her own tank. The race is on! Once again Sherri immerses her head in the swirling soup. This time she does open her eyes, but all she can see are the wriggling, coiling bodies of excited leeches. Bumping the cage, she feels her way with the tip of her tongue and just manages to reach between the bars, depressing the button enough to start the counter running. Unfortunately, the bars which obstructed her nose offer no obstacle to the slippery leeches: scenting a huge meal in their midst, they can't believe their luck and attack en masse, attaching themselves to the juicy, exposed flesh of the girl's tongue and lips. Sherri jumps back, splashing free of the water, trying to shake off the horrible beasts. But to her horror she realises that one of the critters just isn't going to budge. It's already firmly attached to the inside of her bottom lip and several attempts to prise it free with her tongue have no effect. Reluctantly, Sherri realises she's going to have to soldier on with it in place. Her opponent Amber seems to be having similar problems. Through the murky water, Sherri can see the Greenvale girl's tortured expression as the leeches swarm all around her head. But on the overhead scoreboard, the other girl's time counter is already racing ahead of her own; Sherri knows she simply can't afford to pause and think about what she's doing. She has keep her mind as distant as possible if she's going to win. Even so, the look of pure dread on the Furfield girl's face is clear to all as she prepares for another head-dunk into the hellish swarm. If the audience feel any sympathy for these young ladies, they make little show of it: endless shrieks of amusement and disgust echo around the studio. Amber's suffering is even worse than it looks: so many leeches have now attached themselves to the Greenvale girl's tongue that, as she comes up for air for the second time, it will barely fit back through the gap in the cage, and in a panic she makes the mistake of opening her mouth underwater, sucking several of beasties inside before finally breaking free and surfacing, gasping for breath. While she stands there trying to recover her composure, Amber takes a sidelong glance at the scoreboard. She's astonished to see the lead has changed again: her opponent's current immersion time is over thirty seconds! Under the surface of Sherri's tank, more and more leeches are joining in the feeding frenzy, dozens of the vile creatures attaching themselves to her cheeks and chin in addition to those thronging around her tongue. "Wow," thinks Amber, "Now I know what I'm up against!" Arms braced on the sides of the tank, she steels herself, takes a deep breath and plunges back into the stinking water. And so the contest progresses, the lead swapping several times as the two girls battle it out. Both players are suffering badly: every time either emerges from the water, she bears a fresh crop of slimy invertebrates adhered to her face. The audience are especially shocked to witness Amber's strikingly pretty features steadily disappearing under a host of blackish blobs. Though their bites are painless, the growing number of bodies clinging to her face, feasting on her bodily fluids, make Amber feel nauseous. At one point she stands over the fish tank, shaking her head like crazy in a desperate effort to dislodge at least some of them; but it's futile. As the lead swaps over once more, the noise level ramps up yet again; the audience are getting really involved now, cheering the pair on. But by this stage the girls are barely aware of it, somehow keeping going through the haze of misery, waiting only for the final buzzer that will signal their torment is over at last. BEEEEEP! Jerry bounds back on stage, applauding exaggeratedly. From the waiting room, the other players emerge to be reunited their brave team-mates. "WOW, THAT WAS CLOSE! WELL PLAYED BOTH OF YOU, BUT AT THE FINISH, IT WAS A WIN FOR AMBER AND GREENVALE!" Jerry's voice booms. Amber's four team-mates rush over to congratulate her, but stop a few paces short: their friend's face is no more than a mass of hideous parasites, one good eye peering through the swarm. Ellie struggles to keep down her breakfast as she stares at all the blackish-brown bodies half-buried between Amber's lips; but that's only a fraction of the multitude feasting away inside her mouth. "DON'T WORRY FOLKS, WE'LL SOON GET ALL THOSE HORRIBLE BEASTIES REMOVED!" Jerry announces. It's not clear if this is intended to reassure the unfortunate participants, or the studio audience. Nursing attendants appear to escort the players off-stage, while above the stage, the latest changes to the scores are displayed on huge plasma screens. Abruptly the words "$50,000 WIN!!" flash up on Greenvale's board, before being combined with their existing total, to make a mouth-watering one hundred and fifty thousand dollars. For Furfield, the news is less good: "WELL SHERRI, YOU FINISHED SECOND SO I'M AFRAID YOU HAVE TO LEAVE US! BUT YOU WERE A GREAT SPORT, GIVE HER A ROUND OF APPLAUSE EVERYONE!" The tearful Sherri is led away. * * * * Now the Furfield team are reduced to just one player. The petite, dark-haired girl called Ruth only found out she was playing a week ago, when the college needed a last-minute replacement! Now everyone is counting on her to carry Furfield to victory, and she's feeling the pressure. Though her team have banked a respectable one hundred thousand dollars so far, Ruth knows they'll never see a cent of it unless she beats the dreaded "Seven-Minute Challenge" in the final round. That was worth another hundred thousand, but would be a full-on test of players' physical and mental fortitude; indeed, so far in the show's history no female contestant had ever managed to endure the whole seven minutes! And before Ruth even got there, there was still one more elimination round to be played... "WELL, RUTH, I GUESS IT'S ALL DOWN TO YOU NOW, HUH?" Jerry addresses the nervous-looking girl, putting a friendly arm round her shoulder; she shrugs and grins, belying her real feelings. The only good news is that Ruth can't be eliminated for losing at this point -- as her team's last player, she's immune. Only by refusing to play at all can she exit the contest. Professional as ever, Jerry is keen to move proceedings along: "BUT WE STILL NEED A GREENVALE PLAYER. AMBER'S EXCUSED THIS TIME SO, ELLIE AND SUMMER, IF YOU'D LIKE TO STEP INTO THE RANDOMIZER, PLEASE?" The two Greenvale team members walk over to a row of tall, egg-shaped chambers set into one wall of the studio set. Occupying two of them, they wait as plexiglass doors slide shut. The lights dim; then the chambers are alternately darkened and spotlit with brilliant colours, mysterious synthesiser music burbling in the background. The girls do their best to look unconcerned... while secretly praying their team-mate gets picked and not them! Finally the music builds to a crescendo, and dazzling white light illuminates the right-hand cubicle; a choice has been made. The disembodied voice of "Hattie", the series' robot-like announcer, echoes around the studio, stating matter-of-factly: "TO REPRESENT GREENVALE... SUMMER." One set of doors slide open: a wide-eyed, fair-skinned blonde peers out. She glances briefly back at the shadowy form of her team-mate Ellie, still standing in her darkened chamber -- breathing a huge sigh of relief! "GREAT! IF YOU COULD JUST JOIN US HERE, SUMMER?" Jerry instructs, "ELLIE, WE'LL CATCH UP WITH YOU AND AMBER LATER." Doors at the rear of the Ellie's cubicle slide open and she is escorted away to the soundproof 'waiting room' where all the other uninvolved players are watching proceedings by video link. Beaming, the host turns back to the audience: "OK, LET'S FIND OUT WHAT'S IN STORE FOR OUR PENULTIMATE GAME TONIGHT!" then tilts his head up to the ceiling: "WHAT HAVE YOU GOT FOR US, HATTIE?" The dispassionate, anodyne tones of Hattie ring out again, delivering the verdict: "THE NEXT GAME IS... SPIT OR SWALLOW." The one they all dreaded! The news comes like a physical blow to the girls, neither of whom tries to conceal their dismay. But they'll have to get through this to have any chance of collecting their winnings. Ruth in particular is determined not to let herself or Furfield down: she hasn't come 800 miles just to bag out now! Besides which, a win now followed by victory in the final would put her team in line for a cool quarter of a million... "THANKYOU, HATTIE!" the host continues, not missing a beat; "LADIES, IF YOU COULD TAKE YOUR PLACES, PLEASE?" He gestures towards a low worktop with two chairs which have just been wheeled on set. Ruth and Summer take their seats; neither shows any hint of the immense pressure they're under, but this is serious business now. A potentially life-changing sum of money is up for grabs!