The smell of steak filled Allen's nostrils, and he was instantly hungry. He began to wonder how long it would be before they ate. He tried to memorize each name as he heard it and say the name of the person as he was talking to them, but he wasn't perfect. And quite frankly, he wasn’t very good at it, but he was a lot better than he used to be.

It seemed to Allen that this was like one of those mansions in some James Bond movie or something. The only difference seemed to be the sheer number of cameras that were spying on him. He felt violated and surveyed the room to see if anyone felt the same. He was not used to the limelight. He wondered how celebrities could get used to it.

At 6:00 sharp the doors were closed, and it looked like there were people still outside. He wondered if they were going to be given another chance.

“Good thing we got here early.” Cameron's Mom whispered.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please find a seat at one of the tables.” When the hustle and bustle had died down there were 2 tables near the front that were not full. The man nodded to the doorman and some more people were allowed in. According to Allen's math they were down to 20 actors by the time dinner was started.

“We have chartered a plane to take you from here to boot camp.” Edward began. “Boot camp is going to be rigorous, but if you're strong you will continue.” He spoke. “Your camera man has been assigned according to your table, and your intern will be your waiter or waitress.”

Allen hoped that his intern was going to be a female. Mostly because women seemed to be more organized, but also because they were better to look at, and they generally had better hygiene. He also thought it might help him focus on the little things he needed to do to impress somebody like the audience. Women had to be observant all the time. He knew that he wasn’t. He would find interest in things or situations that intrigued him. Those things could be analyzed to tedium.

It turned out that his intern was a girl in her mid-twenties. A bit old to be an intern Allen thought. But when he saw the rest of the interns, he was glad he was sitting at this table. She looked old enough to have the savvy to help him at the same time as the wisdom that brings foresight.

All the interns were dressed similarly with only a hint of differences in their attire. Hers looked like it had been fitted by a professional. Extenuating her femininity while not being restrictive. She wore clips in her hair to hold it out of her way lending her wide vision while simultaneously freeing up her faculties.

“My name is Sara.” she stated. “I will be your intern for at least the next few weeks. If you can think of anything you need please just ask me, and I'll see if I can get it for you. Please don't bother trying to get information out of me. I know only a bit more than you do.” Sara said quickly and to the point. She seemed like an auctioneer the way she spoke so quickly. Allen thought he might need to drink a red bull before engaging in a conversation with her.

“What can I get you to eat?” she asked each person as she produced a notepad from behind her back as if from thin air.

“Steak, rare, garlic mashed potatoes, and no need to throw any veggies on the plate for me please.” Allen said while everybody else began looking at their menu's. “And keep them hot rolls coming.” he added.

“And what to drink?”

“Something with bubbles I suppose. Have any suggestions?”

“A nice glass of champagne for the gentleman, or perhaps a bottle?”

“Or Coca cola. A gentleman should keep his wits about him.” Allen said. He hoped he didn't stop the others from their merriment, but he still had finals in the morning.

“Very good Sir.”

The others ordered their meals while Allen excused himself and dipped out of view to investigate this Bond lair. There was no way to be discreet. Every cinematographer competed for footage. Their contracts bid them to be the one with the segments that were put on view to the masses. Allen had already figured out that the key to his personal success was to gain this attention. That would garner him airtime, and lock him in as a favorite among the cameras, and thereby, the investors.

“It will be like taking candy from a baby.” He mused.

As the newfound actors were finishing their meals, Edward explained that they would be separated into 2 groups at the airport, but it was determined by the tables they were sitting at. Allen noticed that the 2 girls were at the same table. That meant he would either have 0 or 2 girls on his team.

He thought about the dynamic of having the women on his team, or whether they would better serve him on the other team. He guessed that they would be fierce competitors in a power hungry world, and that the viewers would like to add more spice to their viewership, so he made it a point to make sure that he and his table would be paired up with the ladies at the airport next week when they got to the airport, if not sooner.

“Good morning Mr. Hooper.” Allen said as he came into the bakery, and the little bell above the door tinkled softly, and the sweet sticky smell of fresh doughnuts nearly made him cough.

“Good morning Al. I'll be right there.”

The smells inside the bakery were so pleasant that Allen became painfully aware that he wouldn't be able to have doughnuts as a pirate. He scanned the wares quickly, and then again slower. Perhaps a couple dozen today.

“One more week is all. I decided not to attend the summer semester.” Allen was saying in a raised voice as Mr. Hoops entered from the back and approached the counter.

“Oh, why's that?” Hoopes asked as he opened the display case.

“I would like 2 dozen assorted doughnuts today. You pick.” Allen responded as he tried to think of how much he could discuss about the show.

Mr. Hoopes started filling 2 boxes with fresh doughnuts.

“Getting burned out from school mostly.” Allen lied. “I think I will do some sailing this year.”

“Oh, is that right? Locally or someplace else?”

“Ummm, maybe on the ocean.” Allen said skeptically, eyeing the old man. He hadn't thought about it. It might be the ocean, or not. There was little he knew about the actual destination, but they were flying there.

“Oh, there's some big water on the big water you know.” Hoops commented, and Allen needed to work out what he had just said.

“Big water, what do you mean?”

“I mean there can be big waves on the ocean. If you're out there in some sunfish, you could get hurt if the water gets big.”

He hadn't thought of it that way. He should pack some Dramamine.

“I'll keep that in mind. Thanks Mr. Hooper.”

He hurried to the small theater and put the doughnuts on the front desk and opened the 2 boxes. He noticed there were 13 in each. He grabbed a fritter and took a bite.

“Doughnuts up here if you want any” He announced to nobody and anybody, with his mouth full, but there were few people who got there before he did.

Mr. Flanders came over and pulled out a sugar doughnut and took a little bird sized bite of it.

“Doughnuts don't get you extra credit.” he added after swallowing. Allen was an extra credit whore.

He took his pack off his back and set it on the floor by his chair. He pulled out the acceptance letter for the pirate part he had just landed, and gave it to his professor to peruse. He took the letter, and then looked back up to the young man before him. Allen thought he might be imagining it, but it looked like his eyes were welling up as he handed the paper back to him. The middle aged man seemed surprised that someone from his class would be put on television.

“Well what do you know about that? Congratulations Allen. I'm certain you are the best man for the part.”

He went back to his seat to sit down. The dismay of his peers did little to evoke emotion in Allen, but he was surprised how much his teachers' emotions affected him. He noticed that there was a camera man near the control booth. The class, that took place in a small theater, easily hid the camera man. If he hadn’t been expecting it then he probably wouldn’t have noticed at all.

When he sat down, he finished the doughnut he was eating and carefully licked the sweetness off his fingers before wiping them on his shirt. He knew his mom would not approve if she knew. And then it dawned on him that he was on camera, and she might find out. Well, not until September he thought.

As more people filtered in he reminded the newcomers that there were doughnuts on the front desk, and that anybody could have some. When he saw Debby come to the front of the class and take a half of a doughnut he wondered what caused someone to take half a doughnut. If you come up to a box of doughnuts, and there is a half a doughnut in the box, would you eat it? Nope. Nobody would. There's some doughnut that somebody has touched sitting in the box and if you want a half a doughnut you take a whole doughnut and only eat half. You wouldn't break another one in half because people might think that you should have just eaten the one that was torn in half by somebody else. He decided that he would tear a bunch in half some day and see if any got eaten.

When the class had finished the finals he left with the rest of the students, but Debby stayed in the room with professor Flanders. He was hoping to be able to speak with her before leaving, but it looked like the opportunity wouldn't present itself.

In between classes Allen moved his summer classes to the winter semester in preparation for the pirate gig. He had a few more finals to take but he knew he would be fine. When he was at work at the Pizza Hut he went in to Jabba's office when the tide of customers had ebbed.

“I'm going to be taking off for the summer semester after all.” He announced in a nonchalant manner.

“What? You didn't think I might be needing a bit more notice? You can't just quit on me. I might not take you back for the next semester if you do.” Jabba said out of anger. “How long do I have to fill the position?”

“You said I would have like 5 hours a week in the summer anyway. Crap, you could run this place with 1 person the whole summer semester. Why don't you make up your mind?”

“I should just send you home right now if you're going to be that way about it.” Mr. Hutt said.

“C'mon, don't be that way. I will stay as long as I can.”

“And how long is that?”

“Til the end of the semester” He said as he examined the floor.

“The semester is over!” Jabba exclaimed.

“Not til Thursday.”

“Well, let me make some calls. I'll work something out.” he said. “Why the sudden change?”

“I'm going to do some summer stuff. Starting to get burned out from so much school anyway.” He lied again.

“Summer stuff? What does that mean? And besides, you don't get burned out. You're a machine.”

Jabba fixed up a pizza for the 2 of them to eat with everything on it, and double mushrooms. The pizza was so loaded that it had to be shoved back into the oven about halfway to make sure it would completely cook. It was a ritual that Jabba started when he became manager back when he was a student here. Although the scent of it was no greater or more powerful than any other in the store, this one made their mouths water in unison. This one was like a prize that they occasionally shared.

When it emerged from its extended stay in the oven, he cut it and they went out to one of the tables and sat down. Allen dumped a bunch of hot peppers on his half, and then he got up and removed the pirate pamphlets from the counter and threw them in the trash while he was waiting for his half to cool. He could never eat a pizza when it was just out of the oven.

“Bring one of those pamphlets here.” the manager said while he ate his pizza.

As he brought 1 to the table he said “It's over you know.”

“What's over?”

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“The try outs. They were on Saturday and Sunday.”

He handed the fold out to him, picked up a slice and blew on it. It was still sizzling and It smelled divine.

“I should have went to that. It would have been fun, I think. What do you think?”

“You have to be a student. Nearly all of the people they took on were engineering majors.”

“Oh? You're in engineering, aren't you?”

“Naw, I'm in construction management.”

Allen took a bite of the pizza but it was still too hot, and he burned his mouth on the hot toppings causing him to absently juggle the bite with his tongue.

“I still should have went and watched. Did you go?”

Allen fussed with his bite before swallowing. It still burned his throat as id made way to his belly. He noticed a camera man on the other side of the food court recording him.

“Yeah, it was cool in the morning but it got hot. There wasn't any good food except the turkey, and it was like a madhouse. Glad I was part of it though. It will make good memories.

“Hmm. I bet.” Jabba took another slice of pizza. He normally finished or was nearly finished by the time Allen was done with his first piece.

“Did you stay to see who got the parts?”

“Yup.”

“Do you know any of the people who got the parts, or are they just engineers?”

“I have a couple of classes with a couple of them, but I didn't even remember their names.”

“What do you mean you didn't remember their names?” Jabba asked as he thumbed through the pamphlet absently.

Allen gulped down the pizza that was in his mouth and chased it down with some Coca-Cola.

“I'm getting to know them better.” he said as he looked across the table to see if Jabba had noticed. He tried to change the subject as fast as he could, so he added “Is your wife taking classes still, or is she all graduated now?”

“Oh, she won't graduate until she stops getting free classes. The only benefit of working on campus you know. My wife goes to school for free.”

It wasn't against the rules to say he got the part. His nondisclosure agreement only stated that he couldn't talk about what was going on in the show. He just wanted to make a clean break from school so he could put his all into his new summer job.

“Do you think I might know some of the other people who got the parts? Or maybe you might be the only one I know?” Jabba asked.

They shared a look across the table as Allen worked out that Jabba already knew.

“I think you probably know everybody who goes to school here sir. Undoubtedly you know us all.”

“Well. Congratulations boy. Don't forget to represent.” Jabba said as he stood up and clapped him on the back. He was only a few years his senior but Allen didn’t remind him.

“I won’t forget. And, um, I'm trying not to tell everybody. So, if people don't ask...”

“I won’t tell.” his manager finished as they shook hands.

There was electricity in the air as Allen and Cameron got a ride to the airport. Cameron's Mom couldn't get over how neat it was that her Son was going to be on television, and his Dad was just as happy as a clam that his son could afford to pay for part of his own college.

“We still have to make it through boot camp dad.” Cameron reminded him, but his dad was obviously not concerned about his son failing.

The young men learned a lot about each other in the week before going to the airport. Cameron was going to be a structural engineer like his dad. Allen was wishing his dad had a job that he could get in to with a bit of nepotism.

“Boot camp? This isn't the navy son. It's more of a summer vacation.”

“They didn't make it sound like any kind of vacation I've heard about.” Said Cameron's mom. “They made it sound like a lot of work.”

“Work builds character.” Cameron's Dad replied.

“That must be true. If they just wanted a bunch of actors they would've given the parts to theater majors and not engineers.” Cameron's mom said.

“They have one person that was from theater.” Cameron stated.

“Must be one of them girls.” Cameron's dad said as his wife slapped him on the shoulder.

Cameron kicked the back of his dad's chair and the car got quiet for a while.

“So, what kind of engineer are you Allen?” Cameron's mom asked, oblivious to the blunder.

“I am a construction management major.”

“Oh, is that some kind of engineer?”

“No ma'am, I got in with my theater elective.”

There were 2 Gulfstream G6 aircraft outside of the Million Dollar Air terminal. Allen wished he had brought his camera, but there were more cameras around lately than he’d ever seen, and he was getting used to it. He put his big University of Utah duffel bag, and his trunk on the cart that would go on the plane. He was getting hot in the terminal while they were waiting. He hadn’t wanted to say anything as the sun baked him in the car on the way here, and he was sweating. He had just a bit more luggage than he could fit in the allowable containers that were provided so he was wearing 3 layers of clothes, and his pirate hat and a few scarves and head wraps. He was wearing both sets of shorts and his vests. He would have to find a laundry facility when he arrived to avoid stinking the place up he thought.

Debby was at the terminal talking with some of the other staff members. When she noticed him she came over to talk.

“What are you wearing?” She laughed as she looked him up and down.

“Umm, everything I own. My stuff wouldn't fit in the allotted containers.”

Debby began to giggle harder causing others to take notice.

“So, what's in the baggage?”

“My tools and stuff. Plus, I have my 2 blunderbusses and some books and notebooks and pens and stuff.”

“What's a blunderbuss?” Sara asked from behind him. He turned to notice her.

“A sort of flintlock that uses improvised ammunition. I have one that uses black powder, and one that uses 4/10 shotgun shells. They're a hoot to shoot.” he said as he was laughing a bit.

Sara switched to hushed tones. “You mean they're GUNS? You can't bring guns on a plane, are you out of your mind?”

Allen was prepared for this kind of thinking. I was always attentive of rules. The drawbacks had been debilitating in his youth, but when he found a way to manipulate them in his favor, he had come to love them. “I can. There are certain rules to bringing guns on a plane. I assure you I’m following them. Besides, they're on my manifest. Nobody cares.”

Allen began to wonder how much of that conversation would make it to television. He figured that they must be headed to California or something. Well, maybe not, but in his mind most Hollywood types are from California. They don’t understand. This was going to get interesting.

Sara walked over and gathered up her group of actors, and they met up with the other groups that were going on the plane. All of them went to the tarmac where Edward announced they would be separated into two groups established from the dinner the other weekend. Allen had been assigned to the same plane as the two ladies, and they were loading on the further of the two jet aircraft. Allen thought it was weird that they were getting on the plane without a jetway being brought up. It reminded him of the movie Casablanca for some reason. The plane was being fueled, and the luggage was stowed as they boarded. The new actors mingled and got to know each other better as they were in line, and as they made their way up the stairs. It felt good to be outside in the cool air so he hung back as the others ascended and entered the plane. He shook the hands of each of his new friends and tried to get to know their names. He wished he had his phone so he could get their picture and names put together. When it was time for him to board, he found that they saved him a seat in the very back. He would sit up front later, assured himself, and kicked himself for not thinking of this earlier. When he got to his seat he peeled off the extra clothing and stowed it in an overhead compartment before easing into his fine seat. The leather seat was plush, and he decided that there probably wasn't a bad seat on a G6. It leaned way back, and had a foot rest even though it was on the back row. He began to dream about being a real actor, and living a lifestyle where he grew accustomed to this sort of thing. He knew that would never happen. He was destined to a life of construction, he knew, and it would just be painful to aim that high.

When the stewardess finished her announcements about a water landing and seat belts and crap, Edward stood in front of the actors on the microphone.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this program that we are creating is unscripted, but that doesn't mean there isn't a schedule. This program is being recorded for entertainment purposes.” Ed said.

“From this moment on there is to be no communication to anybody that isn't in this production. Is that clear?”

This time everybody yelled agreement.

“Fantastic. Also, this is a competition. Everything you strive for in life becomes easier if you have some sort of incentive. Do you all agree?”

Another shout of agreement.

“If you would all please look out your window's... See if you can see the other plane full of characters. Are they ahead of us, or behind us?”

Both planes were still on the tarmac, but they were a couple hundred feet in front of the other plane.

When the people in the back of the plane started cheering it became obvious that they were leading the other team. The plane literally grew so loud that hearing protection would be required. Allen's ears were ringing, and he wished he had some earplugs handy.

“From now on this team will be considered the A team. We can refer to the other team as the B team.”

Another cheer.

“We will be at the same camp. Our barracks will be labeled with an A. When we get off the bus from the airport we will grab our gear and go into the barracks with an...?” Edward asked.

“A.” The mob shouted.

“Correct, A. We will be working on Cannons and artillery in the evenings for the first couple of weeks.” He sat down as the plane neared the runway for takeoff. Edward sat and buckled up for the liftoff. Allen scoped out the inside of the plane. It was nice. Beyond nice. It must have cost a fortune for just one of these beauties, and there were two.

When the plane leveled off and they were at cruising altitude, Edward stood back up and took the microphone.

“Do you know why we will be working on Cannons in the evenings, and not during the day?” He waited for a response but got none. “Boot camp people. This is boot camp remember? Has anybody heard of an engineer that has never been in the field that was ever worth a crap?”

There were a few heads nodding, and a few shaking, but it seemed that none of them had ever considered it before.

“I have a load of engineer wannabees who have never worked a day in their life. And if that isn't bad enough I have a load of college students that don't even realize they haven't worked a day in their life. By the show of hands, which of you are getting your education paid for by Daddy? Be honest people.”

Nearly every hand went up. Including Cameron's.

“Leave your hands up until I say to put them down.” He continued as the atmosphere in the jet slumped drastically.

“How many of you are in school with a scholarship that isn't for sports of any kind? Raise your hands with the others.”

There were 3 of them this time.

“Add the students with student loans that total more than 50 thousand dollars.”

Allen was the only one with his hand down.

Edward began to laugh.

“All you students with your hands up put them down, and if your hand was down put it up.” Edward said.

“Take a look around you people. It looks like the only one of you who knows how to work is the one person who got in with a theater major.”

“Actually,” Allen shouted. “I'm a construction management major.”

Edward sat back down in his seat uninterested in Allen’s explanation.

He thought that eventually he would get used to all this attention, but so far it seemed to be getting worse. He thought about all the boot camp movies he’d seen over the years. He knew it never paid off to get the rest of the platoon mad at you. It seemed like he was doomed.

After about 5 minutes Edward grabbed the microphone from the front of the cabin.

“Put your hand down Allen.”

The bus ride from the airport seemed to take forever, but it didn't matter to Allen. He was getting to know the A team well enough. They didn't seem to mind the harassment from the crew too much, and it was still like it was on an adventure. Some of the people were listening to headphones which seemed odd to him. If you get this chance once in a lifetime why not devour it? Not to mention the fact they weren’t unplugged.

He remembered how his mom would bring a book everywhere she went. If you’re on a cruise, or fishing, or boating, why not get everything you can out of everything? That's what he would do. One time the family was at a movie and his mom was reading a book as they waited for the movie to start.

“Mind boggling.” he said to nobody.

The bus pulled up to a Jack in the box for lunch. Allen didn't bring a bunch of money so he planned on getting 2 taco's until he found out that the show was paying for their meal. Then he decided to get 6 taco's, a chicken fajita pita, a large strawberry shake, and a large coke. He loved Jack in the box. He wished there was one in Utah that he could go to. There used to be 3 of them. His dad was the assistant manager of the one in Orem when he was just a kid.

He saved some of his food for a snack in case they were going to be on the road for a long time. It was a good thing too. Several of the others on the bus didn't get enough food and they were starving after a couple hours. Allen shared the rest of his food with his new friends.

It was getting dark by the time the bus pulled into the compound. The air was hot and humid, and it had that salt air smell to it. It didn't smell fishy, but you knew you were by the ocean even if you didn't see it, but they could see it. It was gorgeous. The bus stopped, and the A team got off the bus. The other bus was there already, and he figured they were the new A team until he saw the 2 barracks. One was titled A, and the other was titled 1.

“Clever.” He muttered.

He packed up his things and started taking them to his barracks. Sara came up to him and asked if he would like some help. He said “No thank you milady. I can manage.” and he carted his items into the place and surveyed it.

The bunks were lined up like you might expect in the military. There was more space between them than there would be in the military, but there were foot lockers by each bed as well as large lockable cabinets like a big blueprint box type of gang boxes near the walls at the head of each bed, but that was where the differences ended. It looked like the sleeping arrangements were already set up and assigned. He stowed his trunk next to his gang box and threw his duffel on the bed and unzipped it. He distributed his items in the footlocker and the gang box as he quickly and determinedly unpacked them. He locked his 2 blunderbusses and ammo in the gang box and threw his lock on the outside of the box for additional security. Just then Sara came into the barracks and got his attention.

“Could you please put your items back in the trunk, and then back in the dresser?” she asked.

“You want me to put my stuff back in my case, and then back in the gang box?” Allen asked.

“Yes, please.” She said.

“What for?”

“The camera man didn't get it until you were done.”

“So.”

“So could you just do as I ask? It will make for better programming.”

He felt like he was being punished for being first. He hated that. And he was painfully aware of his personal time on camera. He didn’t want his footage to be dropped because he was too efficient.

“Is this going to be a habit?” Allen asked Sara to her surprise. She looked shocked.

“If they are going to scrap all of my footage with you in it then we need to use more foresight.” he explained. There was more venom in his voice than he had anticipated. He regretted his words as they flew from his mouth, and her hurt look multiplied it.

He thought about his contract and agreed. He exercised his items for the camera. When he was moving his guns, he began to feel the uneasiness of oppression.

When he was putting his blunderbusses in the cabinet, however, he did it slowly, deliberately, and with purpose. He even stopped and broke the action of the one that used shotgun shells. He blew down the barrel as it was pointed at his pillow, and then he looked through the barrel at the roving camera for effect. The camera man got a horrified look and the blood drained from his face. Then he snapped it shut with a flick of his wrist and stowed it in the box and double locked it. You could have heard a pin drop as the second lock clicked.

They ate supper at the mess hall. There seemed to be banners everywhere you looked that reminded you that “hazing is prohibited.” The food was reminiscent of Chuck-a-Rama. A lot of the people were drinking, and some of them were drinking heavily. Allen knew that the morning wasn't going to be friendly while they were at boot camp, so he had Coca-cola to drink. He spotted Sara so when he was done eating, and not completely stuffed he cleared his tray and went over to talk to her. She was watching him so he felt like he must be in some sort of trouble.

“Sorry about earlier milady.” he said.