(Scene: An American living room)
Mom: You know dear, I’m reading about a show with kids that CBS is filming. They’re looking for participants. I’m thinking little Jimmy might have some fun. You know, get him out of school and let him stretch his wings a bit.
Dad: What’s it about?
Mom: Well, it says here that if we sign this little contract, little Jimmy would basically be out in the New Mexico desert, unsupervised, in conditions that could kill him. And, there may or may not be doctors around that could help him if he gets hurt.
Dad: Hmmm. I’m not sure I like the sound of that.
Mom: Oh, and if he does die, CBS and the producers are absolved of any and all liability.
Dad: (scratching his head) Sounds kinda fishy. Can they really do that?
Mom: Honey, it’s the media, they can do whatever they want. He will do manual labor in order to keep himself alive, and he may or may not contract a sexually transmitted disease. Which won’t be CBS’s fault, either.
Dad: I’m leaning towards no.
Mom: But listen, if he gets picked, he will be paid five thousand dollars! And every episode, he has a chance to win a gold star that will be good for an extra twenty grand!
Dad: Where do I sign?
Mom: Right here.
Mom: But wait, I’m really not sure about Jimmy wearing one of those bandannas. It makes him look a little dorky. I don’t even like the word “bandanna.” It’s just awkward.
Dad: It’s five thousand dollars! Maybe even twenty five thousand!
Mom: You’re right. What’s a little humiliation? Give me that pen.