On the stage the large glass box filled with the now rather familiar fog is rolled out, the Hostess looking towards it as the studio audience roars with excitement.
"That's right..." The Hostess announces, gesturing towards the strange device. "It's time to bring one of our contestant's back home, back to their own body, and out of the running to win our fabulous grand prize" she continues, the crowd going wild at the mention of the life changing money on the other end of one contestant's journey through a new reality.
"Ms Hughes escaped early elimination for her little nap, but can she avoid it again? Maybe Mr Jones should be given his life back, I'm certain sleeping in a car can't be good for his back she laughs, referring to another contestant as the votes begin to roll in.
"We'll be back with the results... right after this commercial break."
The digits beneath each image of a sleeping stranger quickly begin to race up, those beneath my own barely squeaking into double digits as seemingly one of the more popular contestants. Racing up to over fifty percent of the vote an image of a handsome stubbly man in his mid-thirties suddenly vanishes in a bout of smog, the glass box in the center of the room glowing as they attempt to retrieve the contestant from their distant reality.
"It's seems Mr Douglas' family life was not all that attention grabbing" the Hostess coos, a loud thump coming from the smokey glass device in the center of the stage as a tiny pudgy feminine hand presses against the glass from the inside.