Backstage, three young women waited in their individual changing rooms; one pacing impatiently, one fidgiting nervously, one sat seemingly in a zen-like state of calm. They'd all signed up for the same reason and they all knew the potential consequences but still none of them could quite decide whether they'd made the right decision. In one hours time two of them would be delighted and relieved while one would be cursing herself for having done something so reckless. Only time would tell which one it was.
The theme tune ended and the host, a virtually unknown twentysomething radio presenter, strode out onto the stage wearing a pair of skinny jeans and a loud shirt.
"Hello!" he announced, "I'm Dean Daniels and welcome to the first ever episode of Identity Crisis!"
He flashed the camera a smile, impossibly white teeth glinting in the powerful stage lighting.
"Tonight we have three students who've run up too much debt and are so desperate to clear it they'll risk almost anything. All of them will have their arrears paid and a handsome bonus on top but two will leave with their dignity intact while the other will suffer the ultimate humiliation, streamed live on the internet and available to download at your convenience. Let's take a look at them now"
The three young women heard their cue and walked through a curtained doorway and onto the set. They were barefoot and dressed in black shorts and coloured t-shirts, much like contestants on any normal gameshow. Unlike most shows however, all three wore lycra balaclavas, rather like Mexican wrestling masks or parts of a superhero costume, which completely covered their faces (other than small eyeholes) and totally concealed their identities. All three contestants were on the petite side; the first was dressed in blue and had slim legs and skin the colour of a caffè latte; the second, dressed in red, was very pale and had a tattoo of a rose on her left thigh; the final contestant, in a yellow shirt and mask, also had pale skin but this time with light brown freckles, especially on her arms.
"As you can see" continued Dean, "at the moment you have no idea who are contestants are, and it'll remain that way until the finale when you'll see why our show is called 'Identity Crisis': our loser's identity is revealed and they'll have what DH Lawrence used to call a 'crisis'!"
There were a few isolated claps and cheers, obviously a few English Literature graduates had made it into the audience, although clearly not very intellectual ones if they were prepared to cheer such a lame play on words.
"And because of that we don't have to waste time getting to know tonight's contenders! Let's go straight to the first game."
For the first game the three contestants were standing behind colour-coded podiums. Each had four buttons on top and a screen on the front to show the score.
"Our first game is a test of intelligence and reactions." declared Dean, "I will read out a question with four potential answers. Each of our young ladies will attempt to answer it by pressing the corresponding button. The fastest correct answer gets ten points, the second fastest five and the slowest nothing. Beware of answering in too much haste though as a wrong answer will lose you five points. At the end of the round the contestant with the lowest score will be eliminated and sent straight to the final decider. Ladies: are you ready?"
All three contestants nodded and the lights dimmed, leaving the three contestants illuminated by spotlights.
"Your first question:" said Dean, speaking slowly and carefully, "Which of these is not an element?"
Four names appeared and the contestants quickly jabbed at the answer buttons.
"OK, fastest Red, then Blue and finally Yellow" announced Dean "unfortunately for Red, Ytterbium is a real element so she loses five points"
The screens on the front of each podium showed their scores, '10' for Blue, '5' for Yellow and '-5' for Red.
"Second question: Which artist's famous works include 'The Kiss' and 'Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer'?"
Again, each girl scrambled to hit the correct button.
