Pyramid After Dark

A warning light flashed. Outside the control booth window, two people sat inside a large circular railing. The woman had her back to a large colored wall. On it were three rows of triangle-shaped signs arranged to form its own pyramid – three triangles in the bottom row, two in the middle and one on the top. The man sat across from her, facing them both. A blond, big-grinning man in a smarmy suit hung back from them at a podium. He kept glancing toward the rows of bleachers being the cameras, smiling suggestively at a red-headed woman in a cleavage heavy peasant blouse in the fourth row.

“Camera two ready. Back from commercial,” the director spoke into the microphone, “in three… Two…”

He pointed to the announcer. “Welcome back to Pyramid After Dark,” the announcer crooned in a deep, alarmingly upbeat tone. “And heeere’s our host… David Davidsuuun!”

On the monitor, David smiled brilliantly at the camera. “And now, today’s winner, Jessica, gets to climb into the winners circle and complete the Pyramid After Dark climb.” His grin suddenly became stern. “Remember, no help from the audience.” He turned to the contestants. “Jessica, you have ninety seconds to guess the categories on the big pyramid.” He nodded to the guy. “You’ve chosen Josh here to help you. Josh, this is Pyramid After Dark so the categories will be as inappropriate as we can get away with. If you laugh, you lose the category. Also,” he raised one eyebrow pointedly at the audience, “expect surprises that are going to tickle your funny bone.”

The audience cheered and clapped. David soaked it all in then waved his hands to settle the crowd. “Put ninety seconds on the clock,” he called out. The director pushed a button and a big clock lit up behind the cameras on stage. A mini digital countdown also appeared on the lower right corner of the screen. David placed a hand on Jessica’s shoulder. “Here’s your first subject… And Go!”

The director touched a button. The bottom left triangle turned.

“Yoplait for women,” Josh said. “Fiber… Mexican food from a dirty food truck…”

“Things that make you poop,” Jessica called out.

The director pressed a button. A loud “ding” confirmed the answer as correct and the middle triangle flipped around.

Josh read the category and stifled a laugh. “A blond wig, a foam finger and whips.”

“Weird S & M toys?” Jessica said doubtfully.

Josh shook his head. “A blond wig, a foam finger, whips, handcuffs.” He paused then added, “a wrecking ball.”

“Miley Cyrus’s S & M gear?” Jessica asked.

The director’s finger hovered over the button.

“A blond wig,” Josh implored. “A whip… A Disney channel schedule.

Jessica smiled. “Hannah Montana’s S & M gear.”

The director pressed the button. As the bell sounded and the third triangle flipped, he pressed an additional button. “Send them out,” he ordered into the microphone.

Two midgets walked onto the stage. On was dressed as a little boy in a 1920’s bathing suit. The other crawled on this hands and knees while dressed as a shaggy dog. They stopped right between the category board and the players circle. The dog-costumed midget sniffed the air, then raised its leg pretending to pee.

“Donald Trump,” Josh said, his voice cracking as he watched the midgets move around. “Donald Trump and a bottle of vinegar water. Mark Cuban and a bottle of vinegar water.”

“Millionaires? Billionaires?” Jessica asked.

The dog sniffed at the boy. It pretended to hump the boy’s leg. “Bottle of vinegar water and a vagina,” Josh’s body tensed from fighting laughter. “Bottle of vinegar water, a vagina and Donald Trump. Bottle of vinegar water, a vagina and Mark Cuban. A bottle of vinegar water, a vagina and Gweneth Paltrow.”

“Millionaire douche bags? Famous douche bags?”

“Count it,” the announcer whispered to the director.

The director nodded, hitting the button then ordering the crew to send the next team in.

The bell rang. The fourth triangle flipped. “I… am… a… physicist…” Josh said in a robotic monotone as the midgets walked off the stage. “I… was… crying… when… I… met… you… now… I’m… trying… to…. forget… you…”

Jessica closed her eyes and rocked back and forth holding in her laughter. “Stephen Hawking singing,” she gasped as a man dressed in a brown leather jacket and matching fedora walked onto stage with a gold statue in hand. He had hardly reached the spot between the circle and the board when an eight-foot high boulder came rolling silently after him. He mimed panic before the boulder hit, knocking him quietly to the floor before rolling off stage.

“Love… on… an… elevator,” Josh continued. He forced himself to breathe, before continuing. “Dude… looks… like… a… lady…”

“Stephen Hawking singing Aerosmith – Stephen Hawking mimicking Stephen Tyler,” Jessica said with tears in her eyes.

The bell rang and the fifth triangle flipped. The director shook his head, saying “Clear the stage,” into the microphone. He pushed the second button and looked to the announcer. “I can’t believe we’re doing this one,” he whispered. The announcer nodded, grinning.

“Ummm… he’s a pornstar,” Josh started then froze as a short, heavyset man walked onto the stage. He was completely naked except for a red silk loin cloth covering his crotch. Log stringy black hair hung limply from his head to his shoulders and he smiled cheesily with a wide, thick mustache. A ridiculous amount of body hair covered his chest and back. “He’s… really hairy,” Josh added and looked to the man. The man shrugged and gave a nod affirming the description.

“John Holmes?” Jessica asked. The man frowned in mock outrage.

“He’s still alive.” The man nodded and gave Josh a thumbs up. “His nick name is the Hedgehog,” Josh said, adding, “He was on The Surreal Life and his name sounds like Wil Ferrell’s character in Anchorman.”

Jessica shrugged. “Ron Burgundy? Oh Oh! Ron… Jeremy?”

The bell rang and the final triangle turned. Ron Jeremy smiled at Josh, bowed and lifted up the loin cloth. He twirled his dangling penis a couple of times and walked away.

“They’ll blur that out before broadcast, right?” the announcer asked.

“Send in the last team,” the director ordered.

Josh’s face was a frowning mask as he read the last triangle. From the left side of the stage, a man pushed an ice cream cart toward the contestant’s circle. An umbrella with pink and blue stripes and the words Biskin Jobbins spelled out on the edges hung above the man from a metal pole attached to the cart. A second man walked on stage from right. The two met in the center. The right man held up one finger. The left man nodded, pulled up a cone and started scooping ice cream.

“A hotel bed cover,” Josh said.

“Plaid things. Ugly things,” Jessica answered.

“Twenty seconds,” David warned.

“A semen splotched hotel bed cover,” Josh answered back. “A 70’s velour painting splotched with semen.”

The left man put the ball of ice cream on the cone, put the cone in a holder on the cart, then bent the pole so the umbrella hung vertically between the two men. The left man picked up the cone, stepped next to the umbrella and put his hand through a waist high hole in the canvas. The right man dropped to his knees and began licking the hovering ice cream without using his hands. The left man leaned his head back, smiling.

Josh roared with laughter. The director pushed another button and a harsh buzz erupted above the stage. The audience then burst into hysterics.

Once the ice cream men left the stage to resounding applause, David met the contestants in the circle. “That was a great run,” he told Josh. “‘Things you wouldn’t want to see under a blacklight’ is a tough final category. But you won’t be leaving empty handed. A thousand dollars to both our contestants.” He smiled toward the camera. “And they get to come back next week as returning champions. Bye for now.”

“Camera four – Wide shot,” the director barked. “Roll credits.” As names began scrolling down the monitor, the director pointed to the announcer.”

“You’ve been watching Pyramid After Dark,” the announcer crooned lowly, “Special thanks to Ron Jeremy and the comedians of the Hollywood Uncensored Playhouse. We’ll see you next week.”