Lying on my back in a fancy hotel room.

I'm not in the bed. The life of the janitor, the Mr Fixit who keeps the whole trade running isn't so glamorous. No I've got my head shoved in a cupboard, yet again cursing whichever highly paid architect decided to hide all the valve fittings in a tiny box tucked behind the toilet bowl. Besides me Jake is watching, supposedly learning the trade but mostly it seems occupied watching lifehacks on Tiktok.

Sensing my attention Jake tries to look like he was paying an attention and coughs up a question in pretense
"So how did you know it was that valve ?"
"Everything is interlinked and once you've been here a while you start to learn that symptoms in one place are just part of a chain. The shower pressure in the top room tells me one of the crossover valves feeding up from the rooms directly below is leaking. If you got hot water out of the cold likewise I'd know one had failed. Bad doctors fix symptoms, good doctors listen to the patient. If you learn to listen to her pipes this old lady chatters all day."

As I prattle I realize a rather posh looking customer is looking down at me, no doubt wondering why there is a plumber in her toilet. "Terribly sorry, I'll be out of your way in five minutes"

A few minutes later and we are in the foyer watching as a small army of well dressed media types, cameras and large stage boxes get offloaded. Looks like they are going to be shooting another of those sad TV quiz games in the old ballroom. The ballroom would once have been full of socialites, of dancing, dreams and romance, now it's a void into which roadies erect brief delusions of glory built from plasterboard and poles.

"They want you on the set", the manager's voice interrupts my thoughts, "not sure why but they said it was urgent".

I trudge down to the old ballroom. Urgent can wait, there are no fire alarms, the pipes speak of no rushing water, no ominous creaks.

As I walk in a well dressed woman with an attitude and clipboard accosts me "Ah Brown is it ? we need you for something unexpected. One of our contestants was deplaned and won't be making it."
"Deplaned ?". From the awkward look on her face I realize that this story must be good, and alas that I'm never going to hear it.
"We need a new contestant right now and we think your rugged working class looks and background will make you a perfect fit with our audience."
"I .. what ?"
She glances at her phone. "Look, we are an hour from town, I have to start shooting in 30 minutes, this is the opportunity of a lifetime."
She lowers her voice "and I'll have you fired if you don't, so please just get over to makeup now"

Everything is a blaze of lights, sound effects and heat. I'm sweating despite whatever crud the makeup people painted me in. Actually thinking about it I appear to be visibly sweating more because it. Four pedestals, four contestants, the other three half invisible, half silhouettes in the glaring light. In front of us the compere, his ludicrous green suit and wild gesturing accompanied by a patois that would make even a kids joke book writer cringe.

Questions, puzzles, noise and fake applause blur in a symphony of phony tension and excitement, and then silence.

The cameras cut, the compere steps away from the pedestal, his whole personality switching down a couple of gears as the camera cuts
"Congratulations, you won, you passed on every count"
"I passed, how do you 'pass' a gameshow ?"
He grins, "No it was a test for something a bit bigger. We added you to the test just to fill that other space up. We didn't expect you to come top but you did."
Confused, I ask, "So what exactly did I just win ?"
"You won the aptitude test for leader"
"I ... what ?"
"Here", he proffers a sheaf of papers, "which party do you want to win the election for ? Pick one."
"I thought we had actual elections"
He shakes his head, "People might vote for a weaker candidate. Anyway it wouldn't change anything if we did. The system defines what must be done not the leader"
"The system ?"
"Like all your pipes but made out of people and money"
"But what is the purpose of the system"
He sighs, "The purpose of any system is what it does."
"But what does it really do ?"
"The system perpetuates"
"You make it sound like a life form"
He smiles, "Man makes gods in his own image"
"So can I change anything ?"
"Of course, the system must perpetuate"
"But only to perpetuate the system"
The man nods
"What if I just walk away ?"
"Your choice"
"You won't murder me or something ?"
"Only if you become a threat, which you won't."
"Because I'm a system that exists to perpetuate ?"
He smiles, slowly, "I knew you were bright. Besides you will give people hope."
"Hope, hope ? what hope is there ?"
He takes off the green jacket, stands straight, paces and in the style of a newsreader proclaims "A new leader, a new future, a humble hotel janitor rising on a wave of public support has cast aside the tired old order!"
"But it's a lie. I can't change the system"
He shakes his head, "They don't know that, you will fill their lives with hope"

Alan Cox, June 2024