The producer humphed and said, “Didn’t you just promise to show me The Death Game?”

“That electrocution in Texas,” said the cripple, ignoring the producer’s question, “was reality television at its best. At its very best. And at its timeliest. You know the old game show axiom: the biggest audience for the least amount of money. The execution in Texas hit that nail right on the head. Let me tell you, someone’s going to think of my idea sooner or later. Especially now that CNN executed a guy on coast-to-coast TV. I’ll bet you know that too, don’t you? If you didn’t, you do now.”

The producer said, “The Death Game. I want to see the vi—”

“Look,” said the cripple, “our dear new president declared euthanasia legal. Said we owned our bodies, that we could do whatever we wanted with them. Not only was the president right but he also opened the floodgates for shows like mine. It’s just a shame the guy wasn’t elected twenty-five years ago.” The cripple sighed. “Oh, well. Like I said, someone’s going to think of this idea any day now. Tell you the truth, I’m surprised you haven’t thought of it yourself. Okay, so what’s the bottom line?” asked the cripple. “The bottom line is today The Death Game’s a more brilliant idea than ever before,” answered the cripple. “As I see it, since the late nineties, three things have changed in the game show business. At least in my opinion three things have changed. The first change is game and reality programs on network and cable television have gotten more and more expensive. The second change is the networks are running out of ideas. All their programs are starting to look the same. The third change is game shows have become meaner. Almost hateful.”

The producer said, “Killing someone on coast-to-coast TV isn’t hateful?”

“It’s quite hateful,” said the cripple. “The Death Game will be the most expensive, most unusual, most hateful program ever!”

Silence filled the shabby room.

The old man’s mind had wandered. It tended to do that. The cripple shook his head and thought to himself: Old age. In a blink of an eye I’m going to be dead. Time is going by so fast I don’t even get time to enjoy it. Still, there must be one redeeming factor about getting old. Something better than always thinking about being dead. But what is it?

“When can I see the videotape?” asked the producer.

“There isn’t one,” mumbled the old cripple.

“There isn’t one?!”

“There isn’t one redeeming factor about getting old,” replied the cripple calmly.

Jesus Christ, what an idiot! thought the producer.

“How did you lose all your money?” he asked.

“What’s so funny?”

“I didn’t say anything was funny,” said the producer.

“Then what did you say?”

“I said how did you lose all your money?”

The cripple sighed. “That’s another thing. My hearing. It’s getting wor—”