It's taken me four months to write about this, due in part to embarrassment AND a signed confidentality contract (breach of which entitles Hollywood Execs to a million dollars and my left breast... at least, I think that's what the fine print said).
But my story and life-long stuggle is something the world should know, which is why this is review #400.
My name is Janney B. and I'm a Game Show Survivor.
My addiction to game shows started early, I used to pray for the flu because that meant I could stay home and watch 'Price is Right.' If Plinko didn't air, i would fake being sick and stay in bed for one more day in hopes of seeing those glittery round tokens land in the coveted slots. From there it was 'Press Your Luck,' 'Wheel of Fortune,' and then 'Jeopardy.' These shows taught me that anyone can go from broke to a millionaire in 30 minutes less commercials. Game shows nowadays are hard and I'm cute enough, but not a rocket scientist, okay? But then came my opportunity to be a contestant on 'Deal or No Deal.' "Are you kidding me?!," I thought. "A MONKEY could beat that show."
Getting cast on the show was easy - perhaps even more simple than that cousin of yours who gnaws on table legs but rocks at Guitar Hero.
They were looking for twins: Check. I've got one.
....Who were willing to travel to the L.A. area: Check.
.........Who were only borderline stupid and had decent personalities: Ding ding!
One trip to Los Angeles later, and after answering some silly questions and hopping up & down incestuously with my identical twin while looking like we'd just won a million dollars, we were cast.
A few weeks later, we rolled up to Culver Studios very, very early in the morning. As soon as we entered, the Production Assistants stole our names (hey, our mom gave us those!) and assigned us case number 22, as in, "one of 22 playing for a million dollars." Now, I ain't that good at numbers (minor white lie, so humor me here) but those aren't good odds. Did I mention that 22 briefcase models now compete for the money? Whoa! Did I lose you there?
As soon as our makeup was done and our hair was styled, we knew something was wrong: We didn't quite fit in. My sis kind of knew what to expect since she is a game show veteran (you might have seen her in a pink bikini stuffing pieces of bread in her top and rolling around in maple syrup in a sorority human baklava challenge...) but compared to the other briefcase twins, we couldn't compete. We couldn't out-perk the Mattel Barbie models or out-smart the champions of 'Win Ben Stein's Money." Oh, and we weren't fake enough, which shocked me and prompted me to question if I really know who I am anymore (tm Zoolander).
Between tapings and attorney meetings and "be happy, or we'll kick you off the show" peptalks, my twin sis and I sought refuge in the corner, nursing unlimited red bull and black coffee (a trick for making every contestant bounce off the walls).
I had difficulty not being able to go to the restroom unsupervised (since this was a gameshow and I look like a cheater). And when they fed us, we had to wear big bibs to keep our clothes clean. Like divas, our makeup was constantly retouched and our clothes were re-steamed.
We filmed two episodes, neither of which we won. We would have won on the episode before ours, but a new twin set no. 22 stood on stage for that episode (we were temporaily demoted because we weren't bubbly enough), won a bunch of money, and then we were "re-appointed" to our spot on stage.
Look, I'm pretty darn bubbly. Except in the morning. (Just ask anyone who has seen me in front of a camera before 11:00 am). But being bitter will give me unsightly wrinkles, so I have chosen a healthier way of dealing with my stress: pretending this never happened. Kinda like the survivor of a heinous crime with PTSD.
4 Stars because the lot was spacious, most of the people were really nice, and I enjoyed my time onstage in the bright studio. Talking to Howie Mandel was exciting and so was chatting with Tamika the gorgeous briefcase model.
But basically, it was a big disappointment. I'm not trying to sound ungrateful, because our adventure WILL make for a good story around our Christmas dinner table, but, overall, it was pretty darn crappy.
Do I want to be on a game show in the future? Meh, No Deal. read more