"Please welcome brothers Benjamin Whitman and Bryce Whitman from Arkansas," Mitchell
told his studio audience.
As the audience watched, two individuals made their way onto the stage. Ben and Bryce,
however, looked more like a man and a teenager, rather than two young men.
Bryce, the youngest of the brothers, had turned 17 a month ago, but he looked younger,
and would have trouble passing for 15. He stood about 5'5" and weighed only 135
pounds. His light brown hair spilled over his face, getting in the ways of the lenses held in
the wire frame of his glasses. He took his place behind one of the two podiums, but at
that point, the audience could see little more of him than his head and shoulders.
His older brother, Ben, strode into the studio with his customary confidence. He possessed
a magnificent body that, already well-shaped and well-muscled by the luck of the genetic
drag, had been honed to perfection through dedication to an exercise regimen and his
participation as a star of the football team at Arkansas State University in Jonesboro. After
he had graduated last year, he stayed on as one of the assistant coaches for the football
team.
At 6'6" tall, Ben not only loomed over the show's host, he made his brother look even
more puny through a side by side comparison. The 22-year-old looked quite impressive
as he stood with an imposing posture behind the podium.
Mitchell took his place on a platform between the two siblings. With a tone of concern, he
looked toward Bryce, who looked lost behind the tall podium.
"Should we lower that for you?" Mitchell asked.
Bryce gripped the edges of the podium. "No, Bryce," he responded quickly. "No, thanks, I
am fine."
"OK," the host chirped, turning to Ben and extending his hand.
When Ben took his hand, Mitchell pretended to wince. When he took his hand away, the
host quipped, "That's quite a grip you have there, Ben."
He then turned to Bryce, who had to let go of the edge of the podium to shake Mitchell's
hand.
The host laughed at the teen's limp handshake. "I guess some things don't run in the
Whitman family, eh?"
The audience laughed softly, and the younger brother's face reddened.
"Let's see," Mitchell referred to his notes. "You are a senior at Sunnyside High School.
President of the Chemistry Club and in the top ten percent, academically, in your class.
That's impressive."
Ben broke into the conversation. "Bryce is a brainiac, that's for sure," he said, bringing
more laughter from the audience.
Mitchell turned with a slight smirk toward the jock. "Doesn't that worry you?"
"No, Mitchell," Ben replied smoothly. "I am a college graduate."
"Took you five years," Bryce muttered.
"What's that?" Mitchell asked as Ben glared at his younger brother.
"Nothing, Mitchell."
"Well, I think we should start the game," the host announced.
He hit a button on the console spread out in front of him. A screen behind the brothers
began to glow. Finally, the titles of two categories appeared.
"Let's see," Mitchell said. "This could be interesting. Football trivia and basic chemistry."
Ben's satisfied smirk faded when Mitchell announced that he would be answered the
questions from basic chemistry.
"That leaves your brother to field the football trivia questions," Mitchell said.
Bryce looked even more nervous, especially when the host announced that he would go
first.
"What NFL quarterback has the most Super Bowl rings?" Mitchell asked.
Ben groaned. "That's too easy," he objected.
"Bryce?" Mitchell asked.
The 17-year-old youth stared at the audience. His mind felt blank. "Uh...I think... umm...
rings?"
A buzzer sounded loudly, and Bryce yelped in surprise.
"I'm sorry, but the answer was Joe Montana and Terry Bradshaw," Mitchell said.
"I knew that!" Ben exclaimed.
"Yes, but it wasn't your question," Mitchell said, and the audience laughed appropriately.
"Your question..." he paused. "And you are a college graduate, right?"
Ben nodded, beginning to build up a real dislike for the host.
"OK, this should be easy," Mitchell said. "What is the chemical composition of water?"
"Water?" Ben quizzed. "That's a chemical?"
Bryce sighed heavily.
The buzzer sounded before Ben produced anything other than an irritable frown.
"The answer was H20," the host said.
Looking down at the brothers, Mitchell said, "Ben, Bryce, I hope these next rounds go
better because if no contestant answers any questions correctly, the game becomes host's
choice."
"Uh...what's that mean?" Bryce ventured.
"That means I get to determine the winner," he said with a somewhat malevolent gleam in
his eyes.