“Lupa,” she answered. “Paul Lupa.”

“Tell Lupa to get this blurb to Liz Smith.” The producer pulled a scrap of paper from his sport coat pocket and read the following: “‘Because of a shooting death in the The Big Question’s green room at the NBC Television Center in New York City, police were posted at the green room’s entrance to protect those inside from jealous contestants who didn’t make the cut.’ Tell him to make the quote better, but those are the essentials. Got that?”

“Yes, sir,” answered Ms. Pickle, taking the producer’s quote down in shorthand in her notebook and adding: Tell Lupa to make Liz Smith better.

Life went on in the new green room. Linus Major, Retta Mae Wagons, and Billy Constable—Game Two’s contestants—posed for publicity pictures. All of the show’s contestants had become instant celebrities. While the digitals snapped away, Billy Constable turned to Retta Mae Wagons and said, “I guess we’re lucky, you and me.”

“Getting on the show like we did? Is that what you mean?”

“Yeah! Of course that’s what I mean.”

“Isn’t it a little scary, though?” asked Retta Mae.

“Why do you say that?”

“I don’t know. You feel lucky about getting on the show, and then you miss the last question and you’re executed. So what’s so lucky about that?”

“I ain’t gonna miss the last question, Retta,” said Billy Constable.

“Retta Mae,” corrected Retta Mae.

“Retta Mae,” said Billy, scowling.

“Yes, well, life’s funny that way, Billy. I guess. I’m beginning to think there’s some truth to that old saying, What goes around comes back around to bite your ass off. Is that the way the saying goes?”

“I agree with you, Retta Mae,” chimed in Linus Major, all goo-goo eyes and stupid grin. “That slimy producer may use some kind of unanswerable question at the end of the show. It would be just like him to do—”

“I don’t care. I just want to get to the last question,” snapped Billy Constable. “There ain’t nothin’ about boxin’ I don’t know.”

“But what if the big question isn’t about boxing?” asked Retta Mae Wagons.

“It has to be. That’s my dang category.”

“The last question doesn’t have to be related to your category. Not in the new rules they passed out,” explained Linus Major.

“When they pass out new rules?” asked Billy.

“This morning,” answered Retta Mae Wagons.

“And now let’s meet our third and final contestant for Game One,” said host Rip Puckett, obsequious as hell like most game show hosts usually are. “He’s a sex therapist from Manhattan who says he’s ‘been around.’ His specialty is what else…sex! Now, that should be interesting. Ladies and gentlemen…Mr. Arthur Durch!”

Arthur Durch entered and walked across the stage to join Rip Puckett, cocky as all get-out.

“Welcome to The Big Question, Mr. Durch,”

“Call me Arthur.”

“Okay…uh…Arthur,” said Rip Puckett. “So tell us…Mr.…uh…Arthur, what is your—”

“May I say something to my wife? She couldn’t be here tonight. I wondered if I could say something to her.”