U Go To Hell

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U Go To Hell
By Angela Rasch

Appearing on a game show seemed to be a way out of my financial woes.


 
The audience seemed much closer than I had thought they would be. Many of them openly gawked and jeered at us during the warm-up. Even the four cameras between them and us — the contestants -- didn’t form much of a psychic barrier.

Following the director’s terse warning the lights in the studio indicated we were broadcasting live. The estimated viewing audience would be about six million.

“The name of the game is U Go To Hell.” Brad, the smarmy emcee, grinned as if it wasn’t the millionth time he’d tried to make the game show’s name seem like fresh humor. “Each of our four contestants will tell you their real-life stories, including their particular idiosyncrasy. At the end of the show, the studio audience will vote to determine which three will be forgiven for their transgressions. Those lucky contestants will each receive ten thousand dollars and a shot at our bonus round worth fifty thousand dollars.”

The audience applauded the idea of winning fifty thousand dollars -- as if it was a heck of a lot of money. Which it was. . .especially to me. I was two months behind on rent. Since I couldn’t find work as a real estate appraiser, I had no idea how I would avoid eviction.

“One of you will receive absolutely nothing. That is the person who our studio audience will decide is such a complete failure as a human being -- that there is no possible chance of personal redemption. That person will be told by our audience . . . ‘U Go To Hell.’”

The jackasses who had been lucky enough to score studio tickets laughed like maniacs. Of course, they might have been responding to the huge “LAUGH” sign that was blinking alternately in green and red.

To assure their cooperation with the “APPLAUSE” and “LAUGH” signs, the announcer who had warmed-up the audience had promised that if the audience did an enthusiastic job, they would all get free gate passes to Disneyland.

“We’ll start with contestant number one.”

The four of us had drawn numbers out of a hat. I would go last.

“Contestant number one is Ted. Ted is thirty-two and is currently employed as a bouncer. Ted, you have one minute to describe what it is you’ve done that you would like forgiveness for. After you finish, I will ask you two standard questions, which you will answer while you plead your case with our sympathetic, yet discerning audience.”

“Thank you, Brad,” Ted said with a crooked smile. His left eye twitched nervously. “It all started about two years ago. My Aunt Elle asked me to help out in her daycare. I told her I didn’t think it was a good idea. . .but she insisted. Hell. . .she got the whole freakin’ family involved in pressuring me. They said I had to do it because I owed her so much money that I’d borrowed over the years and hadn’t found a way to pay back.”

“You need to get to your sin,” Brad prompted.

He does that every week to the first contestant. I suppose he needs to get things moving faster or they won’t get us all in -- in one half-hour show -- what with all the commercials.

“So, as I was sayin’. . .I was helping out in this daycare and there was this one girl — she wasn’t a baby or anything. She had to be at least eight or nine. She took a shine to me and every day she pouted until I let her sit on my lap. I’m pretty sure she knew exactly what she was doing because she would squirm around and get me all excited. . .you know. . .hard. Well -- one day, when she was sitting on me I thought I would teach her a lesson so I rubbed her sort of like she was rubbing me. I just thought she’d get the message and act right. As it turned out, I was hauled into the police station. And next thing you know, I’ve got more trouble than I ever knew existed. I didn’t have to do any time or anything, but now I’m a registered sex offender.”

Several people in the audience gasped.

Thank goodness. I’m home free for the $10,000. . .at least. I had been worried that somehow the show’s producers would find four of us with things we did that weren’t really bad. I had been mildly surprised when they accepted my online application. My first reaction had been that they were running out of bad people.

Brad moved in close to Ted. “Do you understand that what you did is bad? And will you ever do it again?”

Ted closed his eyes and screwed up his face as if he’d just bit into a pickle. Then he opened them and stared out into the audience. “I never should’ve gone near that daycare. I’ll never ever do anything like that again.”

The audience applauded mildly.

That was lame. Even I can tell he doesn’t feel any real remorse.

After a four-minute commercial break, Brad reopened the show. “Contestant number two is Sarah. Sarah is in the entertainment business as an exotic dancer.”

“That’s right, Brad. I can put on a great show, with or without a pole.” She smiled lasciviously. “But I prefer to have something tall and stiff in my hands. . .when I dance.”

“Uhmmm,” Brad winked at the studio audience, “I think we understand.”

Only on FOX.

“I committed a felony,” Sarah said proudly. “I’ve done my time and paid my debt to society.” She pointed her ample breasts at the front row. “Now I’d like forgiveness.”

“What is it you did?”

Brad doesn’t need to push her. It’s obvious she can’t wait to brag about what she’s done.

“My private religion demands a certain level of commitment -- that goes way beyond what the average person is willing to do. Let’s just say I don’t get all dressed up on Sunday mornings and gallivant into some swanky church to listen to some hypocritical jerk squawk at me about fire and brimstone. To properly practice my personal right to a religion of my choice I required a human skull.”

No surprise there!

Sarah’s skin has the look of tanned leather. She’s obviously lived around a pool and has completely forsaken sunblock. She could be anywhere between thirty and seventy-five and wears enough make-up to cover the faces of half the women in the free world.

“Now it’s important that you all understand this part — because that idiot judge never did quite get it straight. Skulls are as essential to my religion as big-assed, black singers are to a Baptist church. Not just skulls, but babies’ skulls. . .and they have to be from a person who died, within the last ten years.”

“No!” a woman in the audience exclaimed. “You didn’t?”

“I sure did,” Sarah answered with undisguised delight. “It sounds sort of spooky, but when you put aside all the gobbledee-gook nonsense, the only thing in a cemetery is dead bodies. So, I just looked for a baby’s grave — one that had been dead for at least five years, because I’m no ghoul — and I got me a skull.”

Brad slid into the camera shot to stand by Sarah. “Do you understand that what you did is bad? And will you ever do it again?”

“Like I told that moron judge -- I’m sorry -- and I’ll never, ever dig up a baby’s coffin again . . . especially if it’s under a full moon and it’s practically daylight out.”

And, if you believe that. . .I’ve got a bridge to sell you.

“Our third contestant is Darrel. Darrel is in the construction business and works weekends on a pit crew for a drag racing team.”

Darrel’s face had been obliterated by multi-colored tattoos of geometrical shapes. His forearms were both covered by snakes entwining them as if preparing to strike through his fingertips.

“I’m not sure why I’m even here,” Darrel admitted. “All I did was give people what they want. Like the beeootch to my right. I did my nickel upstate and I’m square with the law. All I did. . .and all I ever did was push a little blow and black tar. Nothing big -- like gang banging. I busted a few heads when some shorties tried to come into my business. . .but that’s just part of the gig. Unlike my fellow contester,” he nodded toward Ted, “. . .I made sure to never sell to anyone under twelve.” He folded his arms across his chest and stared menacingly at the audience.

I can hear murmurs from the audience. But I can’t hear what they’re saying.

Seemingly unwilling to go close to Darrel, Brad asked his questions from behind his emcee podium. “Do you understand that what you did is bad? And will you ever do it again?”

“Ya. . .sure. What’ya think . . .? I’m no habitual criminal! I’m clean and sober and attending all the meetings to keep me off the stuff. Ya know. I’m not making any excuses. . . but if they hadn’t gotten the shit off’n me, they’d found some other source.”

All I have to do for the $50,000 bonus is convince the audience my “sins” are less harmful than the others. What a cakewalk. Somehow, I don’t think he’s as clean and sober as he’d like us to believe. I’m next.

Brad took another commercial break while I calculated what the take home amount would be of my $50,000, after deductions. Before I knew it, we were live, again.

“Contestant number four is Carl. Carl is an unemployed appraiser who is waiting for the real estate market to come back. Aren’t we all?”

“My ‘offense. . ..’” I fought the urge to use two fingers on both hands to signal quotation marks -- because I hate it when people do that. “My offense is I like to crossdress. In the beginning, it was a sexual release. But it’s been years since I’ve felt a connection between wearing feminine things and masturbation.”

“Ewwww,” some woman in the audience said.

“I’m single and live by myself. I confine my dressing to my own home and never allow anyone else to see me.”

“I have to ask,” Brad said. “Do you understand that what you did is bad? And will you ever do it again?”

“No. . .I’ll do it, again,” I explained. “What I do is perfectly harmless. It is a victimless offense that is only considered bad because we have a patriarchal society that places a high degree of importance on the separation of people into two distinct genders. It’s easy to see that’s wrong by simply walking down the street and watching the people you meet. Or — look at Sarah. . .she’s butch enough for two men.”

“Do you mean to say,” Brad said quickly to avoid a fight breaking out between Sarah and me, “that you intend to go right on crossdressing?”

“That I do,” I said. “It’s very important to me and there’s no law against it.”

“Do you intend to eventually become a woman?” A large man shouted from the audience.

I shook my head vehemently. “Heavens, no!”

“Well. . .,” Brad said gravely. “Audience -- it’s time for you to sit in judgment. Press the buttons in front of you for the contestant you wish to go to hell.”

The rest of the show went by in a haze. For some reason, my grand plan to win $10,000 -- and possibly another $50,000 -- blew up, in my face.

Sarah was awarded the $50,000 -- and I got nothing.

On the way out of the studio, I was accosted by a group of people who had obviously been tipped off by the show’s producers as to what I would be revealing. They carried picket signs that stated in no uncertain terms that I would indeed “Go to Hell.”


The End

If you’ve enjoyed this story, please leave a kudos and a comment. They mean a lot to me.

Thanks to Gabi for the review and help.

I have donated a group of stories to BC to help generate revenue for this site. Erin has said that these stories have raised tens of thousands of dollars in revenue for BC. I don’t receive any of that revenue.

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Stories available through Doppler Press on Amazon:
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Baseball Annie
The Girl Who Saved Aunt T’s
Her
She Like Me
How You Play the Game
Hair Soup
Perfectionists
Imperfect Futures
Minnifer
Voices Carry
Andy and Dawn
The Handshake That Hides the Snake

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Comments

Oh my! Can people really be

Oh my! Can people really be that intolerant???

sarcasm mode off/

Sounds like you've really nailed the 'game show' crowd on the nose with this story!

Some days you're the pigeon, some days you're the statue

Et Tu

I'm only intolerant of the intolerant.

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Educating The Public

There's something about mass-market television that speaks to the lowest common denominator in the audience, and the premise of this show seems to be aiming lower than most. Given such a show as a stage, it's not a good platform from which to begin a public education initiative.

On top of that, with the elevated fundamentalist religio-political bent of the show's premise, it was pretty clear that all Carl had to do to win was confess that the Devil made him do it, he repents, and he'd never do it again. Having failed to do that, the child-skull-craving satanist grave robber, the child molester, and the drug dealer all beat Carl out.

Just like real life. Hypocrite politicians, with public toilet trysts, hookers, adulterous and nepotistic relationships with employees, and trips to Argentina just have to say they're sorry, and their holier-than-thou supporters forgive them.

Please Pippa

If you want to attack the religious righteous, please contact me so we can stand shoulder to shoulder.

It amazes me how people can bastardize a religion based on compassion and love into what those devils spout.

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

A good poke at the media

and particularly the entertainment world - and the gullible lemmings who insist on believing everything they read in newspapers, and are told on television.

The media has only one objective - to increase sales. Their motto usually seems to be "Never let the truth get in the way of a good story."

Susie

Actually

I meant to target my protagonist a bit more than the media. The media merely provided him a stage for his own lack of awareness.

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Carl should have lost.... he

Carl should have lost.... he had nothing to be forgiven for !!!

U Got It

EOM

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Told the audience about TSBC

RAMI

Carl should have included in his offenses reading TSBC, it would have been a great plug on national TV and brought more readers to our favorite website.

RAMI

RAMI

The saddest thing

... is that I could see this show doing well in the US...
Tanstaafl,
FrACTured FrIEND


Tanstaafl,
FrACTured FrIEND

Now That I Think About It

It probably is a game show somewhere; perhaps a Pacific Rim country.

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Well ...

Isn't the USA a Pacific Rim country? At least it's on the edge of the Pacific Ocean in my Atlas :)

I've never watched any of those game shows but I've read enough to avoid them and seen scraps on YouTube. I read somewhere that no-one ever lost money underestimating the intelligence of the British public; it's probably a universal truism and so applies to you 'Transponders' as well.

Poor Carl didn't stand a chance. He hadn't appreciated how evil his behaviour was and how he needed to give it up to become pure.

Excellent piece Angela, as always. Now how about something just as biting but a little more ... substantial? :)

Geoff

btw If you need another shoulder to stand against fundamental religion, let me know. Though I might go further than you and oppose the lot of 'em :)

wincing

kristina l s's picture

Which I was after about 6 pars in. Desperation breeds insanity maybe, but...sigh, 15 minutes meets reality/talk/game mania. The contestant choice/comparison might be a stretch, but know thy audience I guess. Trouble is I think there'd be an audience in some parts of most countries.

Kristina

Telegraphed Entertainment

terrynaut's picture

I saw the ending coming a mile away, but it was still a very good story. You put up the perfect cast of characters against Carl. I can see a real life game show happening exactly like you describe.

I didn't laugh at all reading this. I only growled a little and sadly shook my head. Human beings still have such a long way to go.

Thanks for the reminder, Jill. I think it's important to be reminded of our faults. It's the only way we'll get better (just in case -- I don't mean Carl's crossdressing).

- Terry

Hmmmmm

I would have been disappointed had you laughed.

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Stigma

It's amazing at how people see things. A child molester, grave, robber and drug dealer were deemed to be people who could be forgiven but had committed crimes against humanity. whereas a cross dresser who says his life is perfectly okay is deemed the loser.

Stigma plays a big part of a lot of our population. People with mental illnesses are seen as a danger and as mentally retarded. Combat related PTSD is seen as a violent and threatening illness.

Its take a long time for alcoholism and addictions to be accepted. The education of alcohol abuse and drug abuse has made people aware.

Its time for the Transgendered community to break out with an educational agenda

Jill Micayla
May you have a wonderful today and a better tomorrow

Jill Micayla
Be kinder than necessary,Because everyone you meet
Is fighting some kind of battle.

As Long As There Is

political gain to be made by either party by subjecting minorities to hate, bigots will thrive. As was posted here a few days ago, had Congress had the will to stand up to one or two bigoted senators years ago the TG would be much further down the road to acceptance.

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

You have an overly positive view of humanity

I hate to burst your pink bubble but you got it reversed, as long as bigots and bigotry thrive there will be "political gain to be made by either party by subjecting minorities to hate".

All pack animals are bigoted - it's a survival mechanism in the wild, although one which has arguably been harmful in humans for the past few thousand years and unquestionably harmful for the past few centuries. Unfortunatly it's had a million years or more to set into our hind brain which makes it very difficult to eradicate.

The Unicorn

I'm Pretty Sure You're Wrong II

Maybe I missed something, but when a party creates a huge wedge issue over "the sanctity of marriage" it's clear to see the distinction between the horses asses and the wagon.

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Really the BIG WINNER

RAMI

Carl lost, because the audience was conditioned to look for the contestants to say what they were doing was bad, have remorse and promise not to do it again. Carl refused to do that, so he was not playing the game as it was set up. He lost the money because he was true to his feelings and thus in reality the BIG WINNER.

RAMI

Like Jerry Springer Only Worse

God, what's the worst about reading this is that I can see something like this actually happening to a certain extent. I don't feel as bad for the protagonist as I possibly should, though -- using a show where you're supposed to be confessing to a sin as a platform to claim something you do isn't a sin is a terrible idea to begin with, and his holier than thou attitude didn't help his case either. Just from the internal voice and dialogue I read I can see him standing there completely self assured in his own righteousness, and while everything he said is true, and there is nothing wrong with crossdressing or transgenderism, his decision to use a show with that kind of audience basically was begging for the reaction he got. The other three were horrible people based on their actions, but Carl's attitude leaves us wondering how much of a reliable narrator he is as well, at least to me it does.

Hmm. I wonder if the themesong to the show was "You Are Going To Hell" by Bastard Fairies? It would fit quite well.

Melanie E.

You Nailed My Intent

You are the astutest. The bestest reader for comprehension? The writer with the best summer romance story -- yep -- that's the one.

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Oh, please :P

You're embarrassing me!

'Sides, it ain't important if I win or not at this point, really -- my entry is already my highest-voted and most-commented story, as well as in less than two weeks having a hit total almost equal to most of my serial chapters. It's proven what could be done with my writing if I keep using an editor's help, and that's reward enough for me.

Not that I'd turn down the prize, mind you :D

Melanie E.

This is a cleverly

This is a cleverly constructed story that reflects imagination, creativity, and excellent writing. It also contains a core truth, namely, that cross dressing is still not an acceptible norm within our society. I wish it were. If so, I would be wearing heels and hose to work. Maybe someday? Nicely done, Angela!

Be Careful What You Wish For

See my story -- The Chelsea Drugstore -- for details.

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

I agree with Ginger, Angela.

I read this twice, mostly because you wrote it with a sledgehammer. I think it’s
obvious, undeveloped, and heavy handed. If it were not dead on the mark, that
might have been a problem.

I agree with Ginger, Angela. This is the product of a clever, imaginative, and
a very talented writer. I also agree with Geoff, that I love your longer stuff,
but here it’s the message and not a story that is being presented. As I’ve
said, it’s odd that a troupe of gay communists juggling mimes will dodge five
lanes of traffic just to make fun of a boy accross the street, in a dress. Shame.
I bet Ginger looks fantastic in heels.

That’s humanity for you. If one lacks the imagination and wit to understand
what a true evil might be, then at least you can always make up something to
hate. Thankfully, when they are not actually carrying their pitchforks and
torches, they can occasionally be engaging.

Interesting work, Angela. Now… perhaps something of a comedy for
twelfth night?

Your friend,
Sarah Lynn Morgan

The irony of that is.

MEN were probably the people to create the dress to minimize tension on one's private parts. Also one might consider the idea the dress was created as the first pair of real outerwear for humanity in general. I mean when one considers the relative simplicity of it's construction in comparison to pants as such.
But honestly drawing a gender line and by extension judgement in a piece of fabric is patently absurd.
As for the religion Angela don't get me started on the main 3, there is too much of it that smacks of "don't disobey the ruler" instead of a reason to believe in a "higher" being. I'll just leave it at that.

I read this and voted for it earlier

I had to come back and leave a comment, though, because I wanted to say that you pretty much said it all.

This ought to go into a book of required reading for the sort of people who should be required to read it. Not the ones who would watch this show but the ones who would sneer at the watchers while pocketing the profits from producing it.

On second thought, don't give those bastards any ideas.

-- Donna Lamb, Flack

Some of my books and stories are sold through Doppler Press to help support BigCloset. -- Donna

-- Donna Lamb, ex-Flack

Some of my books and stories are sold through DopplerPress to help support BigCloset. -- Donna

What an idiot.

Sorry, I'm pretty sure that wasn't the reaction you were trying to generate with that story but it's my reaction. Game shows are scripted, and often, as in this story the "contestents" know what they're supposed to say in advance. Of the four contestants only one (the first one) actually seemed to regret what he'd done. Of the four contestants only one (the narrator) refused to give the audience what it paid for - acknowledging their right to judge him. More importantly he decieved the studio, as they believed he'd be following the script so them taking any revenge they could get is not surprising either.

Neither reaction has anything to do with prejudice against CD.

Since the narrator was the only one who wasn't a criminal I could see him going up on stage as a protest or demonstration to get an issue into the public view but going there expecting to get the money was idiotic.

The Unicorn

I'm Pretty Sure You're Wrong

See above comments which state what I was trying to accomplish.

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

the rising gorge

laika's picture

Yikes Jill, Don't give them any idea! Exploitative television is nauseating enuff, but when it's overlain with bogus sanctimony ........ GAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!

Anyway I'm glad you're still coming up with stories for us. Hope your efforts in other literary realms are going well.

Hugs, laika.

.
PS: Your advice on using "active" verbs was good stuff. Since u made me aware of this I've expanded on it a bit, choosing more active over less active verbs. Like I crawled out of bed instead of simply I awoke. So yes my ears do perk up when you blog pointers. Maybe shoulda PM'd this but bah, good enuff...)

.
The closest approximation to what it's like in my brain:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u08E7c-FRbU&t=4s

A brief personal perspective that hopefully makes sense...

Andrea Lena's picture

...I attended a church one time that was ostensibly welcoming and loving. I discovered quite to my surprise that things weren't exactly as I assumed. A former Mafia hit-man, who had admitted that he had scores of deaths upon his hands was welcome to give his testimony and preach since he had become "born-again." I, on the other hand, was precluded from any ministry since I had been divorced. Not quite the same, but the same mind-set of exclusion and discrimination. Now I actually can laugh at that since there are plenty of churches that would accept someone who was divorced and remarried, but imagine their chagrin if they learned that I feel at home wearing a dress? Well, not laugh...more like cry. Glad I read this...too bad it's all too real...


She was born for all the wrong reasons but grew up for all the right ones.
Possa Dio riccamente vi benedica, tutto il mio amore, Andrea

  

To be alive is to be vulnerable. Madeleine L'Engle
Love, Andrea Lena

Everytime I read your story

Everytime I read your story that isn't marked "Sweet" I have to remind myself it's just a story. This time it was the same.

I can see this happening

for too many people, we are less than human

DogSig.png

This would go down well with...

the Trailer Trash TV audience.

Thanks for the story Angela. I used the appearance on a game show that went wrong aterwards when the winner returned home in a story of mine, 'Helping Hand'. It is a ripe area forstorytelling.

Samantha

The Worst One Ever

joannebarbarella's picture

The show with the greatest total hypocrisy is called The Apprentice.

It's In Syndication Now

Its sequel is called The Biggest Liar.

Jill

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

You must understand. A lot of

You must understand. A lot of people with turned around collars engage in the first activity.

Karen

Predatory Priest

We had a predator priest in my high school.

Two boys I knew committed suicide after being abused and not getting anyone to believe them. One was my first cousin.

Our small parish actually had two who were later identified as abusers.

Jill

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)