The Joys of Reality TV: Part 1
“What are you watching on television, Rinpoche?”
“A cooking show, Daddi. It’s called My Kitchen Sucks.”
“What’s it about?”
“Ten famous British footballers compete against each other in the kitchen. They have to make a traditional British dish within a strict time limit. This week they’re cooking roast beef and Yorkshire pudding.”
“I wouldn’t have thought that footballers could cook?”
“They can’t, Daddi. That’s what makes it fun to watch. Every week, at the end of the show, the weakest contestant is given a red card and has to leave the kitchen. The last footballer remaining will be the winner.”
“What’s his prize?”
“He gets heaps of money and a transfer to the French squad of footballer chefs. They are the best in the world!”
“Rinpoche, why are the members of the audience yelling abuse at the footballers and throwing things at them?”
“What do you expect, Daddi? They are all British football fans. In this show they are encouraged to behave as badly as possible in order to make the competition more challenging.”
“Look, Rinpoche! A beer can has hit one of the footballers, and he’s writhing on the floor in agony!”
“Oh, that’s David Feckless, Daddi. He’s probably just faking it in order to gain some extra time to finish cooking his Yorkshire pudding…”
“No, I think he’s genuinely injured, Rinpoche. He’s being carried out of the kitchen on a stretcher! What will happen now?”
“Eric Diver is running into the kitchen to replace David and continue working on his meal… But he’s too late, Daddi! That’s the final whistle now!”
-to be continued-
