On the set I

Day One: Set of “The Biggest Loser: Couples.” A large group of extremely overweight people mill around outside a huge iron gate. Standing to one side, apart from the chatting people, are two fat women. One has round cheeks, four chins and an apple body; the other has glasses and dark black dreadlocks (obviously extensions since the rest of her hair is short and blonde) reaching all the way to her ample buttocks. Let’s hear what they are saying.

Apple Woman (aka “Stace”): Good Lord, we just got here and they’re already chatting and making alliances, I know it. You need to get over there and buddy up to someone quick.

Ms. Dreadlocks (aka “Hedon”): I haven’t had a cigarette in 30 minutes. I’m in no mood to be friendly.

Stace: I thought we’d agreed. I’ll do the strategizing and you’ll make with the friendly social crap.

Hedon: Fine. What’s your strategy?

Stace: I don’t have one yet. You need to get in there and get me some info to work with. Go be your charming self and suck them dry of everything they know. Then come tell me and I’ll formulate our strategy.

Hedon: You mean I have to remember the stupid crap they say so I can report it to you?

Stace: That’s right.

Hedon: You didn’t tell me that before. It’s bad enough I’m going to have to listen to them long enough to buddy up, but to have to remember it too … (shudders) … no way. Deal’s off.

Stace: Are you serious?

Hedon: Damned straight. I thought I just had to pretend to like them. You wanna know what they’ve got to say, then you go over there and get the info yourself.

Stace: But if I do that, I’ll have to go into the second stage assault early.

Hedon: Second stage assault …

Stace: Yes, that should come about two days before the first elimination. That’s where I go into “mommy” mode, pretending to be the nurturing type, listening to their problems, hugging them, you know … blah blah blah.

Hedon: Oh yeah, well … start stage two early. Go on.

Stace: Won’t work. They haven’t been appropriately broken down and exhausted by Jillian and Bob yet. Right now, they’re all gung ho and full of enthusiasm, and likely have a pretty high sense of self worth. I can’t hit them with the “mommy” routine until they’re weakened.

Hedon: Okay, then don’t go over there. Let’s just never mind the social stuff right now. We should concentrate on not decapitating someone thanks to this god-awful nicotine withdrawal.

Stace: You only quit 30 minutes ago.

Hedon: Don’t remind me. That was soooo long ago.

Stace: Chew some of that nicotine gum they gave you.

Hedon: It’s not the same.

Stace: (sigh)

Hedon: (sigh)

Stace: Okay, fine. Don’t worry about the socializing today. But if someone looks at you, smile. You can do that, can’t you?

Hedon: Yeah, I guess.

Stace: Good, only don’t smile too big. If you smile too big, they’ll think you’re some kind of whacked out nutball, what with that crazy-ass hair and all.

Hedon: Don’t knock the dreads, woman. When I whip off these babies right before a weigh-in, you’ll be loving this crazy-ass hair then. It’s gonna buy us at least four pounds.

Stace: Uh-huh. Anyway … how much longer do you think we’re going to have to stand here?

Hedon: No idea.

Stace: They should know I can’t stand for very long. This is ridiculous.

Hedon: Wait, I think the gates are opening now. Look.

Both Hedon and Stace watch the gates open and see a young man wave everyone to walk forward. The crowd falls in behind him, Hedon and Stace at the rear of the bunch. Within a hundred yards, both Hedon and Stace are breathing heavily.

Stace: Can you see the ranch yet?

Hedon: God no. How long is this driveway?

Stace: Must be at least 40 miles. Didn’t look that far on TV.

Hedon: I thought that was all a ruse, the walking up to the ranch stuff. I thought they just walked part way and got to ride golf carts the rest of the way.

Stace: Fernando thought that one up, didn’t he?

Hedon: Yep.

Stace: I pray Fernando is right.

They struggle on another hundred yards, then stop, gasping for air.

Stace: I can’t breathe. This sucks.

Hedon: I could make it if they’d give me a cigarette.

Stace: (shakes fist in air) Where are those damned golf carts?

Hedon: I bet Allison and Jillian and Bob are all in the back yard, driving our golf carts and racing each other around the pool, laughing about us suckers having to walk up this mountain driveway.

The young man who opened the gate jogs up to them and chivvies the pair along. Hedon and Stace slog forward, bodies hunched over, arms hanging leadenly at sides, feet barely being raised a quarter inch above the pavement. After 75 yards, and a searching look to make sure the young man is chivvying someone else, they stop again.

Stace: (blowing hard) I can’t breathe. This is hell. What were we thinking?

Hedon: (sucking air) We’re numbnuts.

Stace: Clearly.

A hefty, young woman (one of the other contestants) turns from the pack in front and makes her way back to the wheezing pair.

Chipper woman: Come on, girls. We can do this! I’ll help. Let’s go!

Stace: You’ve got to be kidding me. Screw off.

Hedon: (growls at chipper woman) Who died and made you Bob?

Chipper woman’s eyes widen, then narrow as her anger and disgust settle in. She makes a “hmph” sound then stomps off to rejoin the group up the driveway.

Hedon and Stace stand in disgruntled silence for a few moments.

Hedon: (glances at watch) Ten minutes. That’s all we’ve been here. Ten minutes and our plan is blown. We’re numbnuts.

Stace: Numbnuts … and yet. Maybe it’s time for plan B, where we’re so obnoxious that everybody wants to take us to the finals because no one will vote for us to win.

Hedon: That’s “Survivor.”

Stace: Damn!

Next time “On the Set” — Hedon and Stace endure the first weigh-in.