I’ve heard of the saying ‘too good to be true’ by a lot of people, and you wanna know what I would say a couple weeks ago? It’s full of horse crap. 

But, I have had an enlightening experience. A couple weeks ago I signed up to be a judge on a new upcoming Talent Show that would premier on live television, and poor naive me thought I stumbled onto an amazing opportunity. 

With how many shows that are hesitating to host big audiences, or even bring more than one person onto stage, these guys would be the only option for people looking for new talent show performances. 

The qualifications were low, which should have been my first warning, but I brushed it off without looking back. 

And now, I have to host a completely unorganized Talent Show, with little to no help. I was so optimistic about getting accepted that I wrote off the barebones outline as something that can be worked around. It was after this interview, that I realized exactly why all those Talent Shows were being hesitant. 

“What was that? I can’t hear you!” 

The boy’s voice was barely heard over the obnoxious noises in the background, I already lowered the volume, but the blaring vacuum is still haunting my ears. 

He couldn’t be even old enough to be in Middle School, so why did Vasilly accept his application?

My fingers clacked across the keyboard, and typed ‘Show me your talent.’ he gave me a goofy grin, and vanished off screen. 

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I idly noted the vacuuming getting louder, and then he bounced back onto screen, hefting a guitar over his chest. He wasn’t planning on moving, which is irritating because the vacuum is getting even louder.

“I’m really good with my dad’s guitar! Hold on, lemme try and warm-up!” 

I kneaded my forehead. As soon as his fingers started gliding against the strings of the guitar, a woman walked through the doorway, and just started vacuuming in his room. Starting around his bed that was just behind him. 

“I think this is called 'here comes the sun,’ or something!” It was beautiful, he was like a professional conductor on a stage, with the choir entirely composed of the vacuum, it’s perfect-

No, all of that was nonsense, and I can’t even hear the guitar anymore. But I gave him my best smile. 

“Could you tell your mom to-” 

It just so happened he missed a note, making the guitar screech into the microphone, just as I was talking. He was completely oblivious, and continued on playing, deftly stringing a song that gets completely overshadowed by the vacuum- 

Closing out now would be harsh, but it’s just so tempting! 

I leaned back, soullessly gazing into the camera, and did my best impersonation of a mannequin I think I ever could do. I’m pretty sure he’s finally talking to his mom, but only after she starts vacuuming around his chair? 

Whatever. I’ll ask for a repeat performance, on a different song. 

They finally stopped bickering, and the woman vacated from the room, but the boy- what was his name? Oh my god, glancing down at the piece of paper on my desk like a hawk, I came to a dreadful conclusion. Vasilly didn’t even write his real name down.

‘xXDeadlyNinja28Xx’. I’m absolutely not calling him that, especially on live television. 

“Can you wait a sec? Mom said I have to take the garbage out.” I didn’t even look back up to the camera, and rested my face into my palms. Could I just skip out this one interview? Will those old men upstairs know that I shot down a kid’s dream of being on television- No, I’m professional, I didn’t get hired to slack off and skip interviews, I’ll see this through to the end. 

This was supposed to barely be a five minute interview, but the hour hand on the clock in the corner of the office moved up a digit.