He couldn't do it. There was no way he could. If he even went out there, he'd puke. He was sure of it. This was far too much for him to handle. Even the darkness, which should've shrouded the source of his fear, seemed like staring at an abyss. Or a hungry, endless black hole that threatened to eat him alive. There had to be some way to back out, right?
Of course, Eric knew there wasn't. He remembered the pages and pages of liability contracts he had to sign. It was tedious and exhausting, but one thing was consistently clear. There was no backing out. Not once the process was started. And so the darkness laughed at Eric's doom.
Why did he let those guys talk him into this, Eric thought to himself. This was a bad idea from the start. If only he had a little more guts, this wouldn't have gotten anywhere this bad. Instead, he let his so-called "friends" make the choice for him. By the time Eric realized his predicament, it was already too late. The process had started and the show wanted him. And once the show wanted something, it wouldn't be stopped.
To be fair, it wasn't like he would've been able to do anything about it. If he had even thought about standing up for himself, his "friends" would've made him regret it. In theory, it was difficult to call someone a friend when they bullied you like his friends did. But, when you are as awkward and shy as Eric, you take what you can get. Even if what you get is a group that treated him like dirt.
Eric looked down at his overstretched, conservative polo and khakis. It didn't help that the blonde wasn't the most fit or trendy. His job was in IT. Computers weren't like people; they always made sense to him. In turn, he always preferred spending time with them over real people and that didn't exactly temper his awkwardness. In fact, basically everything about Eric's life didn't help him change his status as a 5'10", 28 year old virgin with bad skin and a bad physique to match. If anything it made it impossible to climb out of.
That certainly didn't mean, however, that Eric was willing to lose this game. Sure, his life was awful, but he'd seen how people came out of this game. Strong, powerful men reduced to dirty, depraved sluts and happy about it! Sure, he didn't have much luck with the ladies but that didn't mean he wanted to try men. He was just having a bad streak was all. A bad, 16 year long streak. He just had to get out of this mess and then he'd be fine, right? Of course he would. And that meant being confident and quick in his answers. He could do this.
And Eric really thought he could for a second. Then, the show started.
The darkness was swallowed whole by the bright, shining lights that covered the set. In its place, Eric's true fear reared its ugly head. Or heads. Fuck, there's gotta be like a hundred people here, Eric thought to himself. A hundred judgmental people with a hundred sets of eyes ready to make Eric sweat bullets, and sweat bullets he did. By the time he drew his eyes away from the audience to the host of the show, he was practically drenched. Sadly, he knew it was too late to change that now, so Eric instead decided to focus on the host of the show.
Dressed in nothing but black short shorts that were basically boxer briefs, a black vest that showed of his taut midriff and a bowtie around his neck, a man barely in his low twenties sat on his podium, which based on the bar it was attached to, appeared to double as a stripper pole. He sat in a way that made it easy to draw attention to him. His juicy bubble butt was clearly on display with his arms and a leg wrapped around the pole while his tongue stuck just slightly out of his smirking lips, his naughty eyes beckoning the viewer to come take him. That, topped with neon green hair and matching neon green eyes, made the host of the show both hard and easy on the eyes. Eric wasn't sure whether to look away or to stare openly at the host just ten feet away from him. Luckily, the host either didn't notice him or was simply used to the looks and proceeded without delay.
"Heeeeey boys! Who's ready for the totes hottest show on television?" the host asked once the theme song had finished. After some hollering, he continued, "That's right, it's time for Think or Twink! I'm your host, Nicky the twinky, and I'm totally ready to have some fun! Who's with me?
While the audience cheered, the twink strutted until he was behind the podium and bent over against it, making sure to show off his ass as much as possible. "Alrighty then, without further ado, let's bring out our contestants," Nicky announced.
Gulping, Eric followed the queue and walked out onto the set. To his right, two other men walked in with him. Just as usual, the studio did a decent job picking a diverse range of body types and personalities. The man furthest from Eric was by far the strongest of the group. He wore a decently well-fitting hooded jacket and ripped jeans that complemented his ripped physique and shaved head. The slight indication of a tattoo stretching from his neck to his right hand perfected his look and he acted completely indifferent to everyone around him as he took his spot. Meanwhile, the man right next to Eric seemed much more prideful as he walked towards his podium. While not necessarily lanky, his height stretched out the muscles on his body, leaving him fit but not necessarily buff, which worked well with his rounded glasses, expensive brunette haircut and well tailored suit. He seemed to act like everyone else was nothing as he took his spot, raising his head up a bit in an almost narcissistic manner. Regardless, the competitors definitely had a physical advantage over Eric, which meant he had to make up for the weakness during the questions.
Eric took his spot besides the other two men, shifting uncomfortably as he looked around at the audience. While his podium didn't double as a stripper pole like Nicky's, it was completely glass so that everything was on display. The closest thing to modesty on the thing was the button placed on its center, which was designed to look like a bubble butt cheek for contestants to spank in order to answer. The thought made Eric want to curl up into a ball out of fear. He so badly wanted to leave. There were too many people here focused on him. He definitely didn't want to look at the camera and think about the millions of viewers watching this at home.
"Well then, this is... interesting," Nicky noted, licking his lips as he sized up the buff man next to him. "Let's start here on the left. Like, Brian, right? Tell us about yourself and why you're here."
"I'm Brian, I'm 29 years old and I work with as uhh... a sales associate for very specific merchandise in Houston. I'm only here cause my girl wanted me to prove myself to her by winning this thing," Brian stated, clearly disgusted by the wanton lust on Nicky's face.
"And why do you think you're gonna win?" Nicky asked.
"Cause I'm straight as an arrow. None of this queer stuff's gonna get to me," Brian answered, a proud look on his face. What an idiot, Eric thought. Brian's case was classic. Some girlfriend hopelessly believing that their homophobic boyfriend would come out on top, just changed enough to make them sweeter. Instead, they always end up with a new gay best friend.
"I'm sure it won't," Nicky replied, a naughty smirk on his face. "Okay, let's move on. Next up, we have Mikey. Tell us about yourself."
"Um, it's Micheal. I'm 26 and I'm from Boston. I work at a law firm that handles the defense of high profile companies in the various lawsuits filed against them," Micheal answered.
"Ya know Mikey, you seem a little stiff. Maybe you should, like, loosen up a bit. Or you could loosen me up a bit," Nicky suggested with a wink.
"Absolutely not. I'm only here to get the cash and walk out. I have an IQ of 163 and this silly test is just a quick cash grab for me," Micheal responded bluntly. This uneased Eric. If that was true then Micheal would be good at both the physical and mental challenges. Eric didn't want to lose but that wasn't helping his situation. Panic began rising up once again in the blonde.
"I'm sure it is," Nicky stated, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Alright, well, finally we have Eric. Eric honey, tell us about yourself."
The fear was getting to Eric. He was so focused on Micheal's answer, he didn't know how generate his own. He tried opening his mouth to speak but instead all that came out was a quick squeak. It was barely a millisecond but it had an effect. To Eric's right he heard laughter and soon multiple members of the audience joined in. His brown eyes began darting back forth as he pleaded for some savior. The blonde was paralyzed with embarrassment and fear and he felt as if he was about to pass out.
Luckily, Nicky saved him just in time. "Well aren't you a bit quiet. Let's see how loud we can make you by the end of the night," Nicky stated with another wink to the camera. After a light laughter, the audience calmed down, letting Eric broil in his embarrassment in peace.
"Alrighty then, you boys know how the game works. Written on these cards are a series of questions. The first person to slap our sexy buzzers gets a chance to answer. If they're right, they'll advance on the cash scoreboard you see to my right," Nicky explained as a scoreboard appeared with numbers ranging from one cent to one million dollars under each contestant's name. There were just ten increments up. Just ten questions to win. "Of course, if they're wrong, they'll advance on the meter to my left."
Another scoreboard appeared on the screen behind Nicky. On it, three phallic objects appeared, each quite small. Above them, a series of tick marks appeared. "If you grow past a certain tick mark, you'll randomly get sexier. As the game progresses, wrong answers will be more costly, so be careful," Nicky continued. "After every few questions, we'll go to a physical challenge. These consist of some task our contestants choose to do in exchange for the shrinkage of their meter or the growth of one of their opponents. The game only ends when either a contestant reaches one million dollars or someone truly means it when they say the show's special phrase."
Nicky paused for the audience to finish his sentence. "I CAN'T THINK, I'M JUST A SLUTTY TWINK," they screamed.
"Remember, you gotta truly believe what your saying when you say that phrase since upon saying it, your meter will be completely filled and you'll only receive a maximum cash out of $100. After all, money isn't really gonna matter to you anymore," Nicky explained. "So, with that out of the way, let's begin."