Читать книгу Hello There, We've Been Waiting for You! - Laurie B. Arnold - Страница 10

“Name?” A woman wearing a headset and holding a clipboard stared at me through sparkly winged glasses.

“You mean me?”

What had just happened? Giant video cameras and a zillion bright lights hung from the ceiling. Dozens of people scurried everywhere like an army of ants. People chattered and barked orders, but I don’t think any of it sounded louder than the pounding of my own heart. Where in the world was I?

“Yes, you. What’s your name?”

I was tongue-tied. Then I spotted the sign hanging over a fake living room. In bright green neon it said: SHOP ’TIL YOU DROP. I’d zapped myself right into the TV studio of Florida’s favorite shopping show!

Mike wasn’t kidding when he said the MegaPix 6000 put you in the action like no other TV.

“Come on, speak up! We’re ready to go on the air.”

“Uh, I’m Madison McGee.”

The lady smacked her palm to her forehead. “Of course you are! Madison, we’ve been waiting for you!”

Then she spoke into her headset. “Margo! Makeup on Madison McGee!”

What was happening?

A woman with spiky purple hair zipped over and patted powder on my face. I was covered in a cloud of makeup dust that made my nose tickle.

“Don’t squirm, kid. Those cheeks still need a touch of blush.”

She brushed on some pink.

Was I going to be on television?

The clipboard lady looked me over. “Can we do something about the hair?”

Geez! What was the big deal about my hair?

“Not in the next two minutes.”

Two minutes? I had to get out of there. Before I could think up a plan, some guy shoved a blue flowery dress over my head, right on top of my T-shirt and shorts. At least I still had the remote control. Could I push the same buttons to zap back to Florida’s living room?

The clipboard lady broke into a broad grin. “Finally the folks in the front office got a clue. I’ve been badgering them for months to give us a kid to be our assistant product demonstrator. The audience is going to eat this up!”

Assistant product demonstrator? On a shopping show?

I wanted to tell her there’d been a terrible mistake, but my mouth had frozen shut. She kneeled down, talking a mile a minute.

“Okay, Madison, here’s the deal. You’ll meet the product representative for the Dirt Demon Deluxe over at the dirty carpet set. Her name is Libby. Our prop guy, Joe, will be off-camera. He’ll signal for you to pick up one of the buckets filled with stuff that you’ll throw on the carpet. Libby will vacuum it up. While she does, all you have to do is stand on the sidelines looking cute until Joe cues you to throw the next bucket. Got it?”

I could only nod my head. A zillion thoughts bounced through my brain like pinballs. Were they really going to put me on a shopping show? What if Florida came home and saw me on TV? How would I figure out which button to push on the remote control to get back to Truth or Consequences? Could I even go back? And how in the heck was this even possible? The whole thing was super-freaky.

I positioned my thumb on top of the ENTER button. But I wasn’t fast enough.

“I’ll take that,” said the clipboard lady as she snatched it from my hand. “Can’t have you holding a remote control when you’re on national television. How in the world did you get this from our Product Room, anyway?”

She handed it to a guy with a bright green lizard tattoo on his arm. Now what was I going to do?

It turned out I didn’t have a second to think about it. Somebody pushed me over to the set with the carpet. Libby was already there, dressed up like she was going out for dinner. Who vacuums their floor wearing high heels and a tight black skirt?

“Are you nervous?” she asked me.

I nodded. And I was even more nervous about figuring out how to get out of there.

“I’m nervous too” Libby told me. “I’ve never been on television before.”

And I’d never been in a television before.

Suddenly the clipboard lady looked frantic. “Where is he? Can somebody please get him here now! We’re on in twenty seconds!”

“He’s on his way,” someone yelled back. I was curious who “he” was. Then in a burst of speed, a guy pushed a wheelchair into the studio. Sitting in it was the TV host that Florida loved and adored. Alan Stone!

He leaped from the wheelchair and plunked himself down on the sofa in the living room set. Margo dusted his face with powder and fluffed his hair.

“We’re on in five-four-three-two-one,” said the clipboard lady.

And then I was on live TV.