There was a light dusting of snow that covered the world during the night. The air was crisp and cold with a slight hint of the scent of doughnuts that immediately caused Allen's mouth to water as he rapidly approached the bakery. He was typically one of the first to emerge from the dormitory on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings, and this Monday was no different. There were birds chirping in the predawn twilight, and Allen soaked it up. He had a way of extracting nature from his surroundings to make him happy under the gloomiest of conditions. He bounded up the stairs toward the bakery as he glanced his watch. He would still have plenty of time to get to class. The last few weeks of school were always a good time for him. He didn't keep much of a social calendar, especially during school and he was on the home stretch.

“Good morning Mr. Hooper.” Allen said as he burst through the doorway to the bakery to the tinkle of the bell, and took in a deep whiff of wonderfully scented warm humid air.

“Good morning Al.” Mr. Hoops responded without coming from the back room. Once again, he ignored the mispronunciation of his last name.

“Which doughnuts are fresh?” Allen asked, and he mouthed the response as Mr. Hoops gave it.

“Everything I sell is fresh. If you want stale doughnuts go someplace else.”

He looked at the inventory savoring memories of the taste of each variety as he surveyed the selection. Mr. Hoops came from the back and looked at him with his kind eyes glazed like the most popular doughnut, and a white apron with some flour and an array of colored frostings on it.

“So, what would you like today? Maybe a fritter?”

“I'm thinking half a baker’s dozen of doughnuts. Any suggestions?”

The baker thought for a few moments. Probably remembering the most common delights that Allen would get.

“You want a cream filled, 2 jelly filled, 2 chocolate cake doughnuts, and a fritter and a half then?”

Allen looked up from the bounty at Mr. Hoops and nodded his head. When the last doughnut got into the small box Mr. Hoops closed it and cut a fritter in half and handed half to Allen with a napkin. He took an oversized bite from the other half and began to chew.

“Three Thirty.” he announced to Allen as he went around to the counter and punched it in to the till. Allen gave him 4 and said, “keep the change.” as he worked on his half of the pastry. He was in an especially good mood this morning. The end of the semester was nigh at hand, and this semester would leave him with only one remaining before he could finally get his degree.

Allen was in the library working on his technical writing assignment when Shane came up to him and sat down.

“One of these for me?” he asked as he looked in the bag.

“Yeah, one.”

Shane pulled out one of the jelly's and took a bite from it. He was careful not to spluge any of the filling out. He pulled a chair out and spun it around and sat on it backward as he looked over to Allen doing his homework. Shane was more tired of learning than Allen, and was doing his best to coast across the finish line.

“You ready for the end of the semester?” Shane asked as he stuffed the last of the doughnut in to his mouth getting some of the frosting on the sides of his mouth, and wiping with his thumb and forefinger.

“Yeah, the home stretch. One more year of this and I should be able to get to something productive. What are you up to lately? Anything cool?” Allen asked.

“Naw, same-o same-o. Just waiting out the semester. Should be able to glide through the rest of it.”

Allen began to chuckle at the notion of coasting through. He was more of a go getter, and he looked forward to finishing strong, and getting a good job at the conclusion. He only had about 28 thousand in student loans so he planned on getting started on a career, and doing some more school when he had a better idea of what the world had in store for him. He harbored distrust for the student counselors that worked at the college. They were no older than him and had no idea what the real world was like outside of college. He had more of a “Mike Rowe” take on education and the ambition to get in to a career and a good retirement. It always looked better when started at an early age.

Allen's phone alarm went off indicating that it was time to get to class so he closed the doughnuts up and crammed the rest of his supplies into his pack and started to class.

“What kind of grades you expecting?” Shane asked as they hurried along the corridor. “Still thinking all A's?”

“Yes. You could do better if you tried you know.”

“Yeah, but that would cut in to my fun time. You only get to go to college so much before they make you graduate.”

Allen began to laugh again. As if they would make you graduate, he thought.

“Do you think it might be possible to figure out who's paying for their own school just by looking at them? Just by looking at how they act while they're here I mean?” Allen asked as they entered the classroom for the Introduction to theater class.

“What're you trying to imply? That someone might try harder if they were paying for school themselves? Don't be absurd.” They took their traditional seats on the front row just off center. “Besides, you're getting loans.”

“It's not the same thing and you know it. You put in just as little effort as you can get away with. Admit it.” Allen said.

“For sure. I would put in less if I could still pass. C’s get degrees.”

It never ceased to amaze Allen how students were willing to pay for an education, and not receive it. They typically paid for a grade or paid for a diploma. But few people were happily paying for an education.

The “Intro to theater” class was held in a small theater class where the professor stood on stage, sometimes with a desk and chair, and sometimes not. It was an active theater so the early morning class would sometimes have scatterings of last night’s performance still present. Mondays almost always had some remnants still gathered since the custodian crew prioritized athletics over theater. And rightly so thought Allen. After all, the theater was an asterisk to the athletics as far as fans and participation were concerned. This morning it had a hint of Febreze trying to mask an alcohol vomit smell that would assail your nostrils if it was unabated which made Allen wonder how much worse it might be in the back of the room where it had probably occurred. Nobody wanted to bring attention to them tossing their cookies. It probably ran down the sloped floor to the front.

There was a cute young woman speaking with Mr. Flanders that Allen couldn't help but notice. Maybe a theater major or something. She looked and behaved as if she had some sort of agenda though. Too much sense of purpose to be a regular student.

“Note, the Hotty.” Shane said as he nudged Allen with his elbow several times without looking.

“Yeah, I see her.” he replied, not taking his eyes off her despite his friends prompting.

She had dark shiny hair that hung loosely around her shoulders with a hint of a curl at the bottom. She was wearing a pink and red top that was secured to her with an elastic at the top and bottom that showed her shoulders and accentuated her figure. The top was cute, but it looked out of place in the cold mountain air that lurked just outside. She had tight faded jeans with the pre-damaged look to them. There were several holes in the jeans about her thighs that showed her tanned slender legs. Either she was from out of town, or she was no stranger to the tanning booth. She finished the look off with high heel leather boots, and a thick belt that hung loosely about her hips. The belt didn't attempt to go through any belt loops on the pants and glistened in the artificial lighting. There seemed to be a pattern embossed into the design that Allen couldn’t make out from this distance. He would try to figure out what it was if he got an opportunity.

When class began Mr. Flanders gave an announcement.

“This is Debby. She is here recruiting people to try out for a part in a reality TV series called Pirate School. She has more details which she will go in to, but if you try out for one of the parts, you will be given extra credit.” Flanders announced to the murmurs of the students. Many of them were suddenly aware of an opportunity to be popular and recognized for their acting skills. Allen was sure that he had better things to do with his summer but the tantalizing idea of extra credit appealed to him so he did what he often did in cases like this. He asked for more.

“Do we get more extra credit if we get the part?” He asked to the enthusiasm in the room which brought a nod to Flanders head in response.

“Hello, I’m Debbie Richens.” She started. “I am a representative of the program. We are building a cast of actors for a reality television show that will be played on both the history channel and on another network. The series will be shot on location both at land, and at sea on state of the art galleons that were developed to create mock battles between competing groups.” She moved her hands in a gesture to shush the murmurings of the audience until they were quiet. Mr. Flanders shot them a look of disapproval that quieted the room. “We will be taking on more than a dozen people from each of the schools involved. The applicants will be chosen from the engineering department of each school, but it will also have one to three wild card applicants from fine arts, so we want everyone to audition.”

“When is the audition?” came a woman’s voice from the darkness.

“The footage will be shot during the summer, and aired in the following months after it is edited and has some small clips from the people involved in the show.” Debbie continued. “Auditions will be Saturday and Sunday will be for call backs, so come in costume, and be ready to give us your best side. Any of the footage of auditions may be used on the program so waivers will be made available for you to sign.”

Allen considered this for a moment, but he had a summer job, and didn’t care to leave the school, and not have his summer classes. This would slow his progression toward graduation.

“What is the most possible money I can get paid for this gig?” He asked finally above the din of his peers.

Debbie got on her tiptoes to see him, and the people that were crowding gave her some space. She was like the queen of the moment. “There will be a base contract that will include per diem and a small salary, but each person can create their own contract.” she answered. And although everyone could hear what she just said, they were numb to the response. Allen was keen to it, and he had an idea.

Allen grabbed a flyer from one of the tables in the food court. It explained most of the things that he was wondering about from his class earlier. It had pictures of Spanish galleons in a battle, and some pirates on deck in their big billowy sleeves, tight pants, and baring cutlases and swords at their sides. All and all it didn’t look too Hollywood. It looked quite fun. Allen had always dreamt of being a pirate. Although he wasn’t going to be a pirate, this might be his ticket to play one on TV. He folded it and shoved it in a back pocket of his uniform as he made his way behind the counter at pizza hut, and clocked in.

“Good afternoon Jabba.” Allen said as the timeclock punched his ticket and he replaced it in the holder.

“Sup Allen?” Steve replied.

“Nada. You?”

“Just tossing pies. Kinda slow this evening.”

Allen checked the schedule and noticed that he worked both Saturday and Sunday. He had to weigh extra credit against money. Money almost always won that battle. He shrugged it off and took inventory to see what kind of pies he might need to make as Debbie came up with a camera man in tow. Allen ducked into the back to start making pizzas, and Steve came up to the register. Steve brightened when he saw Debbie, but he was careful where his attentions lie when he saw the camera pointing in his direction.

“Can I help you?” Steve asked kindly. Perhaps more kindly than usual. Allen smirked unnoticed.

“I’m Debbie, is it alright if I put some flyers and magnets on your counter? We are going to be having some auditions held on Saturday for engineering students, and I would like to spread the word.”

“Sure, sure.” Steve acknowledged. “Just students?”

“Engineering students.” Debbie corrected.

“And a wildcard.” Allen corrected her from the kitchen.

“And one to three fine arts students.” she added.

Allen peered around the corner, and he thought that Steve’s eyes were going to pop out of his head despite the camera.

“So what are contestants going to do on the show?” His manager asked. Allen could tell he was clearly more interested in flirting with the intern than he was in what she was saying. He wondered if women were wise to the flirtations.

“The actors, will be behaving without scripts on a reality TV sort of environment where they pretend to be pirates. There will be objectives for them to achieve, but the outcome, and all of the action, will be entirely unscripted. It is the producers hope that the series will take off for several seasons, and there is an outline and rules for each step of the process.” Debby replied. She sneered when she said actors. Allen could tell she didn't like the way Jabba used the word contestants.

“Can any engineer audition? Or do you have to be young?” He continued.

“The rules indicate that the actors must be enrolled as students to be considered. But other than that there will be up to fifteen actors chosen from each school. After the auditions there will be a contract drawn up for each person. And there will be a rivalry contest with the school's biggest rival to see which team is the winner. Each team will go through some trials, and the one that wins will be pitted against the other teams. That sort of thing.”

“What do they win?” He persisted.

“Here's a brochure. Read it and if you want to try out for the position you can.” Debby said. “If you qualify that is.”

Allen continued making pizza until Debby was about to leave. “Just leave a stack of pamphlets on the counter? Lots of students stop by here. Might be able to get a better turnout to the auditions.” Allen suggested.

Debby noticed him for the first time when he started talking. Her body language became brighter and more enthusiastic when he spoke, but Jabba looked pissed.

“I'll do that. Are you planning to audition?”

“Yeah, there's extra credit involved.” Allen said. “I think it'd be great to get the part as well.” he added.

“You must be in theater.” Debby observed. “They are the only ones that get extra credit.” She continued when Jabba looked confused.

Allen got back to work and ignored Debby when she began to give him some of the attention that his boss so greedily craved. He lowered his gaze and put the pie he was making on to the wire conveyor through the oven. He wished there was a back room to go in to, but he was exposed in the undersized Pizza Hut on campus. Debby observed his cue and gave Jabba extra attention for the next 20 minutes or so until she left.

“How come you always try to cock block me Allen?” Jabba asked when Debby finally left.

“I was just trying to help Sir.” Allen replied. He didn't need another confrontation with his boss. He wanted to keep this cushy job for the next semester, and until he finished school.

“Well don't help out when I'm talking with a girl.” Jabba said in his 'that's the end of this conversation' tone.

Allen continued cleaning up, and folding boxes until the end of his shift, then he headed out toward his room. He was just out of the food court when he happened across Debby texting on her phone. Her eyes brightened when she saw him, and she stood up and came toward him.

“Did you mean that, when you said you wanted to be on the show?” she asked.

“Oh heck yeah. I think pirates are awesome. I have a leather Captain Jack Sparrow hat that I got made for me after I went to Disneyland last time I was there.”

She started to giggle a bit when he spoke. She seemed to be in to him but was probably just being a good intern. He didn't have many girls interested in him since he was more into his education than girls. That was pretty much the whole time he had been going to college. “Do you think I have a shot?” he asked.

“I hope so.” she said, but Allen seemed unconvinced. “Only one to three fine arts applicants will be selected. Are you in engineering as well?”

“Nope. I’m going in to construction management. I took intro to theater for my fine arts credit.”

“Well you have as good a shot as anybody. Well, anybody that’s physically fit and good looking.” Debby said.

“What do you mean?” Allen asked. His deminor diminished in an instant. Chased away by the thought of being denied an opportunity.

Debby saw the confusion on his face and thought about her response for several moments before she spoke. “The producers want to make money off the show. They are investors. They have the final say on who’s on. The director picks first though, and he’s trying to guess what the producers want.” She shifted her weight to one leg emphasizing her femininity unconsciously. “Bottom line is that they want to make a show that will draw the largest audience. The largest audience will watch a show for the good looking people, and the interactions that they have with each other.”

Allen's face brightened. “And you think I have a shot?”

“I do.” she said. “The first round of auditions will most likely go to the people who catch the attention of the crew. It might be good to wear that hat. Don't get all crazy or anything but get the attention of the crew while you wait. The audition takes place the whole day. Not just when the contestants are on the stage. There will be cameras running on the crowd all day, and the producers will help with the process. The people that get on the show will most likely be the people that provoke a response while they're not on stage just as much as while they are.” Debby explained, and she gave the conversation a long pause to let the information sink in.

“My manager wouldn't have a shot even if he auditions will he?”

“Not a chance.” she laughed, and Allen’s laugh joined it.

It was cool in the early morning of the auditions, but not cold. Allen thought that the Hollywood people would think it was cold, but they would be wrong. He took a couple of deep sniffs of the morning air, and there was a hint of some sort of blossoming flower in the air. He tried for a few moments to identify it before his thoughts returned to the auditions. He considered going to Mr. Hooper's place and get a doughnut but then decided against it. He wanted to get fit anyway, and pastries didn't help with that struggle. His six pack had been reduced to a barely visible four pack last semester.

When Allen arrived he was in costume, and in character. The day seemed half over by the time the auditions began. He was issued a number that they wrapped around his shoulders so that it was clearly visible from the back. He was wearing some old school shabby pantaloons with a fencing foil in a scabbard around his waist. He had one of those belts with the big buckle like the puritans wore holding up his trousers, and he was wearing a calf skin vest that he had found a few years back. It was too small for him but it only enhanced his look when worn unbuttoned over his bare nearly unbuttoned chest. He wasn't as chiseled as he would like, but he had a realistic look to him. He wore a red silk wrap on his head with his hair tucked up inside and flowing tails on the backside that fell to his mid-waist like a ninja. And of course he had on the leather tricorn hat. His ensemble was disorganized, but he would get some attention. Some of the other candidates where eyeballing him and making him feel nervous. He started wishing he had gone to a school that wasn't so close to his hometown. He was never the kind of person that was easily embarrassed though so he just upped the ante when he got butterflies. He was busy doing parlor tricks when they called his number.

When he got to the stage they asked him a battery of questions that he answered as honestly as he could. He was into the interview about 20 questions when he realized he wasn't using his pirate accent, so he decided that he wouldn't use it for any of the interview. He was more nervous by the end of the questioning than he was when he got there. Then he was ushered through some curtains, photographed, and sent to a waiting area with a couple of other guys, and a girl. She was pretty, but she didn't look like a pirate. He hadn't considered that there might be women in the production, but he could see how it might improve ratings if there were some cute ladies on each team.

She was way nervous, so Allen decided against going up to her and talking. He never noticed when his features had filled out and didn’t hold himself in high regard. He thought that she might be out of his league anyway, so playful banter would just calm her nerves as he would become more nervous. She had a pleasant aroma like one of those high-end perfumes. She must be accustomed to wearing it he thought, since she didn't just pour it on like beginners do. Yeah, she was out of his league for sure. He was cheered up a bit when he thought of what a blunder it would have been to talk to this pretty girl. And although Allen was no sexist, he thought that it might break down authenticity to have female pirates, but there was always room for romance on the program if there were some. He looked back over to her and considered what it might be like to kiss her on the lips. She was mouthing something as if she were practicing a speech or something. There was a bit of a sheen on her lips like fading lip gloss.

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When he finally got in front of the judges there were several cameras in the area. One for each judge, 3 on him from different angles, and a couple that were on big castors so that they could move all around the stage.

“So you are?” the middle judge asked.

“Allen Bennett.” Allen replied, and he shook the 2 male judge’s hands, and kissed the female judges hand while looking straight into her eyes. She had pretty eyes. A jumble of light brown, dark brown, and some murky green. There were two dark spots in a swirl of green and tan in her left eye. She was looking back intently, so he gave a slight wink with his right eye looking into her left.

She blushed when he did, and he responded the same. She must be some sort of cougar he guessed. The two male judges shared a laugh.

“Oh, we have a gentleman.” she announced in a thin delicate voice that reminded Allen of some grade school teacher.

“Just good manners milady.” he announced, which caused him to blush further.

“What makes you think you would make a good pirate?” she asked.

“I have been a pirate my whole life. There just wasn't a venue for me to... participate in.” Allen responded. He began to worry that he was blowing the audition.

“How so?” another judge asked.

“Pardon?” Allen asked as he turned his head toward the other judge but holding his gaze on the woman's eyes for just a half a second and producing a smile, hoping he could find a good answer by the time he clarified his question.

“How have you been a pirate your whole life? You have to travel through 2 states to get to the ocean from here.”

“Oh, I mimic the classics.” Allen responded. “You know what I mean?”

“Which classics?” the other man asked.

“The dread pirate Roberts of course, Captain Hook, and Captain Crunch.” Allen said. This time all the judges shared a laugh, and the two roving cameras moved to the sides where they saw the judges and the contestant in one shot. “Although the people at Quaker might not agree that Crunch is a pirate.” Allen continued without looking strait at any cameras. Debby had forewarned him of this taboo.

“Not Jack Sparrow?” the woman asked.

He paused for a short time and turned his gaze toward her for a moment before saying “Of course him, but I'm sure everyone uses him as an example. I'm not like everyone else.”

“No, you are unique. No musket though?” she continued.

“Not on campus milady. People either walk the plank, or get throwed into the brig for that.” Allen mused. “Besides, I'm more of a blunderbuss guy me 'self. Got a couple of doosy’s at home. They both work too.”

The 2 male judges were amused when he said that, and so were a couple of the camera men. Allen did turn around and look at one of them when he heard him snort. He was still able to look at the guy, and not into the camera.

“Why do you need two?” the first judge asked.

“Well sir, they take some time to reload. If you don't hit what you're aimin at, you might need another chance. Sometimes even if you do hit it, it won't die right away. Or if there's more than one target... You get the picture.”

“Anybody got any more questions for Mr. Bennett here?” the middle judge asked.

After a short pause the woman asked “Have you ever even been on a boat?”

“Yes milady. Several. But never been on a boat that had cannons on it. It sounds like an adventure.”

When Allen got back out in the open he went to some of the barrows and booths and looked at what there was. There were games for kids and stuff, but there weren't many families there, and there were fewer children. He spied Debby talking with one of the judges after a while but he didn't approach her. Instead he got a turkey drumstick and a pint of ale. It was ginger ale, but he needed to keep his wits anyway, so he was glad there was an option for him. After drinking a few of them he began to pretend he was drunk. He wasn't vulgar or anything, just loud and boisterous. He was thinking about Klingons to help him visualize. But in true Hollywood fashion he must have said Yo Ho, and Ahoy, a thousand times by the time it was over.

When they finally called his number as one that was being asked for a call back he had forgotten which number it was. It was the response of the crowd clapping him on the back that brought him to recognize that the number was his. There was a small cheer as they raised his hand, and he cheered with them. He still played the part of being a bit out of sorts. He raised his mug of ale but didn't move toward the stage. Then a kid behind him said “Hey mister, that's you.”

Allen pretended to be drunk. He swatted at his back with one hand, and then the other spilling some of the ale. He pretended that he couldn't get the sign off his back. He fell down as everybody around him laughed. He sat with his legs wide, reached over his head with both hands, pulled the sign and his vest off over his head, and examined it upside down. He scratched his head for a few seconds to the laughter of the crowd, and then spun it over. Then he smiled his biggest smile and put his vest back on and ran on to the stage with the other call backs while holding his number in his hands. The judges looked peeved for the delay causing Allen to think that they just wanted to get back to their hotel or something. They probably weren’t used to these long days.

Allen was eating dinner at the local McDonald's after the audition when Debby came in with one of the judges.

“Allen, you did great.” she said, as she sat down across from him. This is my Dad Edward.

Allen stood up with a start. “Pleased to meet you sir. Can I buy you two some dinner or something?”

“No thanks, not for me. I need to get some work done by morning. Debby can stay though. I will see you bright and early.” Edward said. He shook Allen's hand and then kissed Debby on the cheek. Then he turned and exited the place. It seemed to Allen that he was afraid of germs or something the way he hurried away from McDonald's.

“Can I get you something?” Allen asked again.

“Um, I will get something. Then we can chat.”

He had just sat down again when Debby stood up, so he stood back up, and went to the counter with her so they could talk.

“You were awesome today.” she said. “You blew away the competition. You are the first person to get 10 out of 10.”

“First person?”

“Yeah. Everybody who has any say picked you as their top pick. They even started to question the engineering rule to let in almost exclusively engineering students.”

Debby ordered some nuggets, and they sat back down.

“Do you really have 2 muskets?” Debby asked. “Christine said that you said you did.”

“Um, no. I have 2 blunderbusses though. They are like a musket, only a little longer with a flared barrel, but they can use anything as a projectile. Even a handful of gravel if you want.”

Debby giggled, and even made small clapping motions with her hands.

“They are going to eat you up.”

Sunday morning rolled around and there were 105 candidates to work with. There were many more dressed like pirates this time, but Allen still looked the most authentic in his haphazard costume. This time each of the contestants drew a number out of a burlap bag, and then they got an arm band with the corresponding number on it. They were instructed to strap the armband on their left arm, and a rubber band held it in place.

Allen was wondering how 10:00 am could be considered first thing in the morning. He would be at his 4th class by this time of day on a school day. It seemed hot and humid to Allen who was more accustomed to the cold mountain mornings that were typical in the winter in Utah. It wasn't until 10:10 when the judges arrived.

It was the same song and dance except there was no carnival going on this time. Everybody was a contestant, staff, or a coach or parent. Allen stood alone so he mingled and misconstrued what people were saying to get them embarrassed. Then he would introduce himself and say good luck to each of the other contestants. Mostly he said good luck because in his theater class he was taught that you NEVER say good luck to a performer.

When his number was called he went through the same motions but was less nervous this time. They gave him a script to memorize and put him in front of the camera.

My name is (Your Name). I am a (Major). I am a (Which year) this year, and I represent the University of Utah. Simple enough.

“Do we have to tell the truth for the video? Or can we just make something up?” Allen asked when they asked if there were any questions.

There was a short discussion between the judges when he asked his question. Allen was a stickler for rules. He would follow the rules and then complain when others weren’t reprimanded for not following them. It was a point of discontent that he had lived with for most of his life. There didn’t seem to be a way around this problem so he followed the letter of the law. He looked for opportunities to bend rules to his favor. It took a lot of work at first, but now it had become second nature to him, and he did it automatically. There was a murmuring in the crowd as the judges discussed the question.

“You can ad lib your major if you want.” was the response. Then the murmuring grew louder as the other contestants were made uneasy when Allen had shook one of the flimsy foundations that supported them. Allen would have done this on purpose if he had thought about it, but the thought came completely unabated. He saw Debby shake her head ever so slightly, so he winked at her. One of those over the top exaggerated winks that nobody used where you contort your mouth as well, and she actually did a face palm.

“My name is Allen Bennett. I am a Construction Management major. I am a junior, and I represent the University of Utah.” He spoke. And he held up his hands with his index fingers raised like two pistols pointing in the air with their hammers touching like a big U.

Before he got off the platform the interviewer asked, “What is you real major?”

“Well I switched from rocket science to quantum mechanics... Construction Management is my major.” Allen replied. Then he lifted his eyebrows anticipating another question, but there wasn't one. Then he went to his next mark.

“How would you characterize your understanding of engineering?” the next interviewer asked.

“Well, somebody has to drive the train.” Allen joked. The interviewer just closed his eyes for a few moments before continuing.

“Do you have any knowledge about ancient ship building?”

“Only what I've seen on TV. I don't think they teach that class at the University of Utah.”

“Do you have any understanding of the physics of cannons?”

“Yes, I have a great understanding of all sorts of guns and munitions. I am even a fair shot if I do say so myself.” Allen thought he might be blowing it, but he wouldn't have to remember his lies if he stuck to the truth.

“Have you ever been aboard a sail boat?”

“Yes, my grandpa loves them. He doesn't currently have one, but I know the principles behind their operation.”

“Is there anything that makes you uniquely qualified for this part?”

“Yes, I am a dedicated, and committed individual. I will work tirelessly to get our team to victory. I am somebody that believes that with good leadership, cooperation, and an even playing field the University of Utah will be triumphant.”

“Yet another shameless plug. Are you really a construction major?”

“No, I am a construction management major. I am learning how to bring engineers, owners, and tradesmen together to achieve greatness in the construction industry. I believe that this is what will give our team the competitive edge. Not to mention, I have always wanted to be a pirate.”

“Do you have any allergies?”

“Just hay fever.”

“Are you afraid of heights?”

“Not that I've noticed.”

“Is there anybody at this audition that you are already friends or enemies with?”

“Nope, I think I've had a few classes with some of the people here, but I barely know the names of the ones I recognize.”

“Is there any reason that you shouldn't be considered for the part?”

“What do you mean?” Allen wondered.

The interviewer looked him in the eyes and cocked his head a bit. “Do you have a criminal past or outstanding warrants or court dates? That sort of thing.”

“Oh, heavens no. I just have to move my summer classes back to fall and quit my job at the Pizza Hut.” Allen said with relief. He was beginning to get nervous again.

“Are you currently dating any member of the cast?”

“Ummmm, not dating, no.”

“So you are seeing someone on the cast?”

“I have met up with a member of the cast a few times but I wouldn't say I was seeing them. So, no.”

“Them? Is this person a man or a woman?” The interviewer asked. There was a tinge of anger in his voice for some reason.

“She is a very attractive young lady actually?”

“Do you have any homosexual tendencies?” His pleasant demeanor had changed, and he was asking with venom in his voice.

Allen had a long pause. He was thinking of the response that Bill Murray had in stripes.

“No thank you, I am strictly hetero. Sorry.” Allen said. And then he threw in one of the overemphasized winks that he gave Debby on Saturday.

“Do I frighten you Mr. Bennett?”

“You do not.”

“Do you know what it’s like to get up before the sun, work hard all day, get a scant meal, and go to bed hungry?”

“If you throw in cold and perhaps wet... then I do.”

“Are you getting smart with me Son?”

“No Sir, just answering as accurately as I can. I don't want there to be any confusion about where I stand.”

“Have you ever been part of a team Mr. Bennett?”

“You mean like baseball? No not really.”

“Do you know what it's like to rely on a team member, and have them fail? Causing the whole team to fail?”

Allen pondered this for quite a while before answering. The judge actually tapped his foot in his impatience.

“I don't suppose I do.”

“Does your Mommy still tuck you in at night?”

Where in the world did that come from? Allen thought.

“Not since I moved out of the house.”

“What sort of feelings do you have for your mother?”

“I love my mom.”

“In what fashion do you love your mother?” The judge asked. He was just about across the threshold of getting his butt kicked with that question.

“She nurtured me in to the.” Allen answered, but was interrupted by the judge standing up quickly, and throwing his chair back as his knees straitened.

“You are dismissed Mr. Bennett.” The judge sneered as he glared at him. His imposing physique did little to stem Allen's rage that had been building up in him.

Allen’s clenched fists were a bloodless white. He relaxed them and took a breath as he stood and turned his back on the judge. He found himself looking right into a camera as he headed toward the exit. He gave one of his exaggerated winks and pointed both fingers at the camera like pistols. And then he put his thumbs down as if they were firing at the camera. His rage had completely left him with his own levity.

By the time all the interviews were over, it seemed he had been through twenty or so, but it was only eight. He was a bit dejected by the second one, and he only had a foggy memory of what was asked the rest of the time. He was glad he decided to just be honest because he didn't know what his responses were either. There was a lot of waiting around, but in the end, they will have culled ninety of the one hundred five contestants to fifteen. They had to do the next stage of paperwork for the show and a background check. Allen filled out the forms and signed another waiver. This waiver had a lot of stuff that he didn't particularly like. It gave him the impression that being a pirate might be dangerous. He began to wonder if this would strike fear in his competition, or if their ego would prove more motivating. He began to hope there would be alternates for the people who couldn't cut it. He had no idea how many people it took to run a pirate ship, or how much of the cast would be doing real stuff or what. He was going into this whole thing blindfolded. When he was asked what he knew about reality TV he answered that his mother loved it, and that it was unscripted. He liked to watch deadliest catch and decided to take a bigger interest in reality TV by the Saturday after next. He would be going to see his mom anyway. And she eats that sort of thing right up. He signed a non disclosure agreement, and went through the motions.

Lunch was brought in, and he mingled with the other accepted applicants as much as he could. There was a lot of chatter about the waiver that they signed. It turned out that only a couple of them read it.

“Dangerous business being a pirate. Arrrgh.” Allen said as he sat down with his sandwich and Coke.

“Did they ask any of you about ancient ship building?” Stephen asked. He was a young man about the same age as Allen.

“Yeah, are they teaching that at the U this year? I didn't see it on the schedule.” Allen commented.

“Frankly, I don't even know what they asked now. Just vague recollections.” Clifton said. There was a great consensus on this point.

“That one guy asked me a bunch of gay questions, and then questions about my mom. What was that all about?” Robert commented to the agreement of everyone present.

“I know right? I didn't know if that's something I need to be open to or what.” Allen asserted jokingly.

As the chatter continued Allen became aware that most of the questions were designed to catch people off guard. He relaxed a bit and didn't have many comments that he felt he should interject, so he just listened.

There were only 2 girls in the final cast of characters. He began to wonder where they were going to sleep, and the accommodation they would have to make for the girls.

After lunch they began to lay down the rules while background checks and everybody's histories were being investigated. It seemed hot now, even though it was only about 55 or 60 degrees outside. They were sitting in the sun which didn't help, and he started worrying about sunscreen. He tried to shade himself where possible.

“Each group of five performers will be given an intern. This intern will keep your schedule strait and help you to maximize your coverage. All footage shot with an intern in it will be limited or scrapped, so keep your interactions with your intern to a minimum.” He began.

“Each set of seven to eight performers will be given a cameraman. Your cameraman gets paid a base wage and will be your shadow. Your cameraman also gets a bonus for each minute you are on screen. He, or she, will do what they can to put you in the best position for screen time. If you get up to go to the bathroom your cameraman may be in there with you. Just kidding. All footage that is not rated TV14 or milder will be blurred or deleted at our discretion.”

The crowd became loud when he said this. Allen decided that he'd have to start wearing pajamas to bed or something.

“There's a medical staff that'll be always on site. Being a pirate is a dangerous business. Make sure to take a copy of the waiver with you to peruse and get familiar with. Anybody who's injured and misses three days of shooting will be cut. So, if you miss one day one week, and two days another week, you will be sent back home after a short debriefing.”

The speaker gave a pause for the people to discuss the situation for a few minutes before he continued. Allen decided to use his Grandpa as his emergency contact. He had little chance of being interrupted if he used him, plus, his grandpa wasn’t likely to tell everyone like his mom would.

“Hazing by students is prohibited. If there's any way that what you're doing may considered as hazing you'll be asked to leave. By the time we get to the ocean we'll be cut down to a cast of twelve to fourteen so don't be thinking we're afraid to cut our budget early.”

“The twenty one people selected today will be separated in to 2 equal groups for the first 4 to 6 weeks while they're trained, and they assist in the building of a warship.”

Allen began to wonder how twenty-one people could be split in to 2 equal groups. He was no math major but he thought it must have something to do with i.

“If you are in a relationship you need to inform your significant other that you will be out of contact for up to thirteen weeks. It might be a good time to break off any unwanted relationships.”

There was more murmuring so the speaker quit while things were being discussed. Allen didn't have a relationship so he just sat and pondered for a while. Three months would get him back in time for school in the fall for the winter schedule.

“The nondisclosure agreement that you signed has a monetary penalty attached for a breach of contract. We won't air the program until September and we won’t have the tabloids take over.”

Allen wondered how much money the tabloids would pay to hear what happened on the show. He didn't think it would be that much anyway.

“Anybody trying to get information from the staff about where we're going, or what we're doing will be eliminated. You can discuss it amongst yourselves if you wish but not with the staff members.”

For the first time Allen noticed that the staff were wearing armbands that said staff on them. He was never good at remembering names so he hoped that there would be name tags on people's arms for the first couple of days.

“If you feel it's necessary to leave the set unannounced then don't bother coming back. We have cameras all around. Consider what you're doing at all times to be on camera.”

He wondered if they would be excused if there was a funeral or anything. He didn't think he had any sick friends or relatives, but you never know.

“Make sure that your emergency contact information is up to date. During the show, there will likely be an emergency. If you are approved for an emergency leave of absence, and you are gone for 3 days, you will not be invited back. The nondisclosure agreement will remain intact. If your grandma dies, and you go to a funeral it better be less than seventy two hours or you will be cut from the program. Is that clear?”

There was a quiet response from the actors.

“Is that clear?” He asked louder. This time the response was slightly better than mediocre.

“People, if you are too shy to speak up then you should be dismissed right now. Is that clear?”

This time the response was deafening.

“There will be one phone call to your emergency contact from our staff to help them to understand what we're doing here. They will be given some rules of engagement and a contact number for them to get in touch with the show. Other than that, you will be cut off from the world electronically. Pirates didn't have cell phones, laptops or I Pads. Anybody that can't unplug might as well leave now.”

At the mention of unplugging the crowd murmured. Allen was somewhat disconnected already since he was just concentrating on his studies. He already bought his books for the summer semester, so he thought he would just study up for his classes for the fall during his down time. He never had any designs on being a professional actor, so Construction Management was the only big thing on his mind. When the crowd died down the speaker continued. “For those of you who are selected there is a mandatory dinner at the airport Hilton hotel tonight at 6:00 pm. You will be given a list of items you need to bring to the airport in a couple of weeks. Please be on time for every event from here on out. Your attendance will be recorded. Form a line up to this table, and you will be taken back to a private room where you can opt out now and be replaced before the real action begins.”

The whole crowd seemed to rise at the same time. Allen wrote down a list of questions he had for his interviewer. There didn't seem to be anybody asking for questions of the cast, and he wanted to know how much this gig would pay and other things like that. By the time he was in line he was nearly at the back. That gave him more time to get his questions ready.

When he got to his private room it was the interviewer that got him worked up earlier. He started to get nervous immediately. The hair on the back of his neck rose up and he balled up his fists as the fight or flight response kicked in, and the blood was squeezed from his grip.

“Sooo, Allen. Does this opportunity look like something you want to be part of, or do you want to opt out?”

The man's face was kind and gentle now. It reminded him of doctor Jeckle.

“I'm in. I do have a few questions though. Is this the proper time to ask?”

“Shoot.” Dr. Jeckle said smiling.

“How much does this gig pay?”

“That’s a good question. Your contract will include that information.”

“When do we sign contracts?”

“Most will be signed tonight, the remainder will be signed Monday evening.” Dr. Jeckle sat neat and prim in his folding chair with his hands clasped, and a slight smile on his face.

“Will we get an opportunity to negotiate our contract, or are they prewritten boiler plate documents that they expect us to just sign?”

“Boiler plate. But if you want to negotiate then the option will be made available to you. But if negotiations break down and they don’t want to bend… you may be deselected at that time.”

“Are the questions in the interview you gave me written down so you know what to ask, or do you ad lib the questions?”

Jeckle started to giggle a bit, calming Allen somewhat, and shaking the rickety chair. “I am the interviewer that’s trying to provoke a hostile response. The questions are asked in such a way as to catch you off guard. We need to weigh your hostility level to make better television you understand. I found your responses to be neither too hostile nor too humble. When you winked at me it was one of the only times I got caught completely off guard. I think you're a most promising young man, and I look forward to rooting for you and your group.”

Allen smiled a bit of a crooked smile at this. His animosity toward the man had completely faded. “Sweet.”

He arrived at the dinner at 5:40 pm so that he wouldn't be late. He decided that he'd be able to immerse himself best in the part if he didn't tell his friends or family about the summer job so he caught a ride to the event with one of the other performers. He traded his 1 parent voucher to his new found friend Cameron for a ride to the dinner, and to the airport on Saturday. The car ride was all a buzz talking about the show. Once again Allen mostly listened. Cameron's parents were so happy that it made him happy to be part of the experience.

When he exited the land rover, he looked across the valley to the giant U on the mountain. He pulled out his phone and snapped a few pictures before he turned to go inside. One of the camera men assigned to the new cast of characters decided to get some footage of the U for the television audience. Allen spotted Debby and her dad Edward at the door. He reintroduced himself so that Ed wouldn't feel awkward if he had forgotten his name, or wanted to appear like he was unaware of who he was, but he seemed genuinely pleased to see him at the gala. When they got inside there was a guy putting wrist bands on people’s hands if they were 21 or older to indicate they could get drinks. He looked around but didn't see anybody that didn't qualify. They sat at a table near the middle of the room with 3 other contestants and their guest. There were cameras everywhere. Allen felt quite Hollywood, and wondered if his deodorant was up to the task for the evening. He certainly hoped so. He was wearing a shirt and tie. He had removed the scruff that posed as a beard before he showered and got to the hotel for dinner. For some reason his face seemed to perspire more when he was clean shaven than it did when he was scruffy. He spent some time worrying about this as well.