Test of Intelligence
"Step right up, step right up and try your hand at winning a bountiful prize!" "You, you fella, next to the blonde, why not you?" he asks. The man really asked me of all people. His mustache twirls and contorts into his face as he encourages me to walk to him. I hesitate but decide to accompany the man on the stage. The crowd claps and goes wild with every step I take. I walk up an inclined slab of wood in order to reach the man. He laughs, "Ok, ok, give it up for this fella!" The crowd cheers even more. "Fella, what's your name?" "Dave Thurman," I say. "Occupation?" "Bank Teller." "Alright Mr. Bank Teller, let's play a game. And, if you win my game, you win a prize!" The man pauses and shouts. "What prize you may ask?" The curtains behind him open and reveal several thousands of dollars oozing out of barrels. "$800,000, cash for you Mr. Thurman, if you can answer just a few of my questions!" I nearly empty all the air out of my lungs, gasping in disbelief. "Let's start, my dear boy!"
"What is 5 plus 5?" I double take and he says, "Yes, it's that easy." "10," I laugh. "Ten it is! You're now a fifth of the way done!" "Next question, what color is the sky?" "Blue." "Good job my dear boy! This next one is tricky." I begin to feel uncomfortable. "How old are you?" My heart trembles. I know the answer, but the man's eyes, the man's red eyes make me doubt myself. "29," I shake out. "That one was a bit of a freebie so I'll take your word on that one!" He twirls his cane and mustache rapidly before asking the next question. Once he is satisfied with said twirls he finally asks me, "What is the color of your shirt?" My throat becomes a swamp of frogs jumping around. I look down slowly, could this really be this easy? I feel my heartbeat in my ears, my palms begin to sweat. I stare at my shirt, is it red, or could it be classified as pink? In this lighting, maybe it's a light red, is that possible? What even defines colors? Should I say my shirt has no color?
"Any day now, friend!" I can't remember even putting the shirt on now, damn it all! My eyes begin to go fuzzy and crossed; I forgot my glasses at home. I pull the cloth up to my eyes and the crowd becomes restless. They stare at me, waiting for me to choose what possible color this blasted shirt could be. I think they're in on it to make me feel uncomfortable! It has to be that way! Yes, that's why he chose me out of all people! The shirt begins to morph and change into all colors of the rainbow. I can't lose this, not when I'm unemployed. This could finally give me a chance to amount to something! But what is the color? I think I'll go with pink, no, red, no pink! "My shirt is pink." An unbelievable silence is stretched on for what seems to be a millennia. "Right on the money, Thurman, you're too good at this!" The crowd claps but I suspect he's lying to me. He's manipulating me, he's trying to make me look like a fool! You know these magician types, Dave, you can't trust 'em! This all has to be an elaborate trick, even predating to my friend who gave me the tickets to this stupid carnival! Yes, he was paid off wasn't he, he was!
"Last question, I hope you're ready for this!" I tap my foot. "Your final question, for the chance to win, how much crowd?" "Eight-hundred thousand!" The crowd settles down and a camera zooms into my face from the wires above. It stares at me, recording my every move, my every thought, every part of me. "What day is it today?" What day is it? Is he foolish? It's, why, it's… I can't remember the day. Thursday, no, Monday. What day is it?! What day? What damned day is it?! Friday? He did this to trick me! My friend who invited me did this, he wanted this, he wanted to see me fail even more! I always knew he was jealous of me when I was employed, and now that I'm down and out he can't wait to pummel me! Days, what even are days, isn't time a construct of the mind anyhow?
The mustached man walks over to me and whispers, "I can see you're nervous, listen, I don't want you to go home empty handed. Do you know the day?" I stare at him blankly, oh I know I can't trust him now. "Listen, it's Friday today. Don't miss out on this much money." Idiot! Does he think I'd really trust him?! Nothing comes this easy, nothing! This has to be Herald playing a mean joke on me. He knows how tempting this money is to win, he wants to see me fail and lose out! A twisted prank, my supposed friend! I'll get you back one day! Oh, oh no. Or maybe, maybe the Devil himself is here and this is to trick me into sinning! What should I do? Lord please give me a sign? Silence, I hear, silence is all. I have to trust my intelligence I suppose. Oh, don't fail me now. "Today is Sunday," I say. The words spill out and my face becomes flushed. The mustached man backs away and looks at me confused. The crowd sighs collectively. "I'm sorry, but that's… incorrect." "You're lying! I know you're lying! This was all an elaborate scheme wasn't it! You knew I'd…" The man pulls out his phone and shows me the day. "No! It can't be!" "Ask any of the crowd, they'll tell you. Are you ok, Thurman?" They all say it's Friday. "No, no, I can't believe this! I can't believe you all! Evil, evil, twisted and evil! You manipulated the questions into hard ones! You used camera trickery, or lighting to make my shirt a different color! I look down. It is red. Maybe it's the lighting, because why would he have given me a free answer?! "You all disgust me!"
I flee out of the tent and into the carnival. Men in stilts tower over me as I run. I'm so small, so insignificant, I'm so dumb! Even the clowns point and laugh at me, they're in on it, oh yes they are! "I'm not letting you win!" I shout as I run out of the carnival. I reach a bright area filled with sunlight. Goodness me, my shirt is red. Why did he allow what I answered? It had to be a scam! He wanted me to look foolish in front of everyone. I ask a man on the street the day it is. "It's Friday." I run to the woman behind him. "It's Friday." The streets shout Friday at me but I refuse to believe them. I fall to the ground to catch my breath. It can't be Friday, can it?!
"Yo, boss, no one won again today?"
"No, no, surprisingly no. Well no, truthfully it's unsurprising."
"I'll pack the money back up and I'll see you next week, boss!"
"Wait, you ever think it's wrong what we're doing?"
"I mean, no, we're literally giving them the answers. They pay for the tickets, we make the money, they lose out because of whatever goes on in their heads."
"But isn't it still kind of scummy what we're doing?"
"Look, if they don't know the answers that you literally spelled out for them, they're a lost cause. You literally told the guy earlier what day it was. Hell, even the questions you asked were freebies!"
"Yeah, I suppose you're right. What's this make though, contestant #1000?"
I roll around on the sidewalk yanking out the stringing hairs atop my head. I'll take those fools at the carnival down, oh yes I will! I won't be made a fool of!
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