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Little Beirut
Mt Tabor #3

Mt Tabor #3

“My goodness. Well, I’m glad you’re okay,” Brenda said once the video cut. “That sort of thing could seriously hurt someone.”

“Thank you,” Walter said. “And we believe it has already. We’re still trying to verify details, but there was a seventy-six year old man who was killed in an attack like this in November. Whether it was filmed or not, we aren’t sure just yet, but it does show how dangerous this kind of thing is.”

“How deep does this go?” Brenda asked. “What other pranks are going around that makes something like this seem like a fun game to play?”

Walter shook his head. “We’ve found clips that I don’t think can be broadcast in this time slot,” he said. “We’re still trying to figure out if we can air them in ours.”

Brenda’s eyes widened as she leaned in closer. “My goodness. Worse than what you’ve already shown us?” She was good at making this seem like she hadn’t heard it before. If Walter hadn’t rehearsed it with her, he’d almost believe her.

“I’ve seen kids get stabbed. There was one going around with knives or broken bottles hidden under paper bags, and kids would trick their friends into slapping them to pop ‘balloons’ hidden inside.” He mimicked the slapping motion, slamming his open paw onto an imaginary surface in front of him. “About five kids last year died from accidental hangings trying to get their faces to turn blue. At least three kids, that we’ve been able to verify, died while attempting a stunt where their friend would drive their car toward them, and they attempted to jump onto the hood of the car. There’s one boy whose parents we spoke to, and we’ll be talking to them more on Friday. He had both his eardrums ruptured and can’t function with noise even at speaking level, after an air horn was blown between his ears.”

He hadn’t mentioned quite that much during their rehearsal, and this time Brenda’s shock was genuine. “And— and they film this, and upload it anyway?” she asked. “Is that what you’re saying? That you’ve seen these videos?”

Walter nodded. “YouTube pulls most of them down, but nothing gets deleted from the internet. The Mike Martin case is an excellent example of how far people will go to preserve videos like this, for good or ill intent.”

Brenda was clearly more accustomed to talking to astrologers and fitness gurus, but Walter patiently let her stammer through her next thoughts. The rehearsal apparently had not been enough to prepare her for this interview.

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“My god.” She shook her head. “So, this… this one that you’ve shown us. Where people just get sucker punched. Are we seeing some kind of progression here? It’s not enough to put yourself in danger for views; now they’re putting others at risk?” She grimaced even as she said it, like the words left a sour taste on her tongue.

“I think so,” Walter said. “As I said, we’ve found at least one death related to this latest ‘prank.’ Which, when I was a kid, pranks were filling your friend’s car with shaving cream. Not putting people in ICU.” He shrugged, shaking his head again. “But I think that’s exactly what it is. Anybody who’s worked on any TV show long enough will tell you how hard it is to keep ratings up from year to year. You have to constantly outdo yourself, and be more outrageous than last time. And the kids making internet videos know this too. At a certain point, tricking your friends into looking stupid isn’t good enough. You start tricking them into hurting themselves. Then you run out of friends, and it’s complete strangers that get it next. If something isn’t changed within the video platforms that allow this content, next we’re going to start seeing kids driving blindfolded, or speeding down the wrong way on the highway.”

“And you’ll be talking about this more on Friday?” Brenda said, leaning back into her seat again.

Walter nodded. “At seven PM, here on CBN. We’ve got a two-hour special lined up for it. It’s a lot bigger than I think any of us realized when we started looking at it.”

“Well, I’ll definitely be tuning it, like I’m sure a lot of our viewers will. I need to go home and find out what my kids are watching now. Or doing!” Brenda absolutely understood how to sell hype. Today, she was selling an entirely different type than usual, and nailing it.

“Thank you,” Walter said.

“Again, you can catch Friday Night with Walter Jung right here on CBN at seven PM this Friday,” Brenda said. “And thank you, Walter, for taking the time to talk to us today. Coming up next, we’re ending the hour with a look at a few places around the Valley to take your whole family while we wait for that spring weather to finally arrive. We’ll be right back after this break.”

As soon as the cameras cut, Brenda shook her head, and wagged a sharp claw right at Walter. “Most people would get rid of that accent for television. Didn’t they teach you that in school?”

Walter shrugged and got up. “I ain’t most people,” he said, his accent much more natural now that the cameras were off. He shook her paw once more. “Thanks for this. I’ll get out of your hair.”

“No, thank you,” Brenda insisted.

As he jogged off-stage, and out of the harsh lights, Walter spotted Nichola watching from behind the cameras. As he neared her, she reached out and brushed something off of his shirt. “You didn’t need to fleece her like that,” she said. “But it was good. They’ll be running it twice on Good Morning America tomorrow, aso that should give us a good ratings bump.”

Walter nodded. “This week’s going to be hell,” he said. “Want to get lunch before we don’t have another chance?”

Nichola nodded. “If you’re buying,” she said.