I wait outside the door, because  I want an answer. I just interviewed for a known show that is broadcasted onto television.

The series is about a person’s life that is turned upside down by a series of events I felt my life fits the bill perfectly and I could have a really great show, full of drama and mistakes that the whole world could see.

The television series, named heartache, is a popular hit when it comes to Tv and I could possibly be on it. I know I can get this.

So I waited and I waited for an exorbitant amount of time until finally the door opens from the other side.

He calls my name, “Robert?” I hustled in there like there is some sort of emergency.

As I take my seat in the hardback chair, which is molding my body and making my back hurt like hell, he stares down onto his paper. The pause is causing me great panic, and he is not making it any better by making me wait.

So I read your paper he goes on to say, “What motivates you too have us film your life?” Clearing his throat is the next thing he did after that.

I shot my voice out into the bleakness of the air and gave him the answer that I have been thinking of all this time, “Well I am always having drama happening in my life and would love to have fame and fortune. Let me tell you, I would fit everything on your checklist for possible candidates for Heartache.” I felt like jumping up for joy after I spoke my mind.

He ties his fingers around each other, and stiffens his neck in an upward position and sort of has a frown on his face.

“Well from what I have seen on your paper, you seem like you are a great kid, but there is one problem. Do you still have to clean up dog poop on your floor? All that would do is gross out my audience.” He appeared to be squinting and concentrated on a part of me only.

“No sir, I have not done that in a while, that is just an example of what happens to me. I can assure you that will not ever happen again.” I started regretting ever telling him about this incident.

He shuts his eyes puts his head back on his well fitted, stretchy yet comfortable chair, with his hands over his face, but it is for a moment only.

As he gets up to congratulate me he puts out his hand for me to shake. “Congratulations.” he says with a sound of honor coming from his tone of voice.

I guess anybody could say that this would be an awesome part of my hefty journey. I now have a TV Show that I can rely on. This is good considering everything is always bad news in my life.

I will keep you updated on the next time when I royally screw something up.

ROBERT,            END OF SCENE SIX

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