The Lost Episode of The Price Is Right

Hello there, neighbor. I appreciate you allowing me to come into your home, and tell you this story. Fact of the matter is that I used to do that without asking, but I've been thinking that I want a fresh start at life. This thought didn't just come to me randomly, of course. It came from the small screen...
I used to work as one of those guys who picks cans up off the road by using sticks so that I don't get leprosy from the germs. I was in the forest on the side of the highway when I saw it: a can of Crystal Pepsi. It was unopened. Clearly, it still contained the memed carbonated beverage goodness that only comes around once every 90s revival or so. ... Crystal clearly...
So, I did it. I tossed my stick into the woods and fostered an appetite for vintage fructose. This was a once-in-a-lifetime event! I could tell all of my friends! All of the talking heads on TV! I popped the tab, singing Fleetwood Mac to myself and the forest animals before slurping my first sips...
Oh, that sweet, sweet moment. Or so I thought! Instead, I suddenly felt ragingly pissed! I must have looked...disheveled. I threw the can straight into the trunken bark of a hollow oak tree, and then I threw up. There was nothing precious about that crystal!
I hitchhiked my way home as I always do. That was when the real adventure began...
The guy who drove me home had pasty white skin. Said his name was Jeff. Thought I knew him from high school, but he said he didn't graduate because he burnt his skin with bleach, or some crap like that. We were driving down the highway before he...he reached into his glove box and pulled out a knife!
I was scared. "... Want a half of my sandwich?", he began. "You're sitting on it. Sorry." Well, that explained the pleasant squishing sensation underneath my clothen buttcheeks. I was feeling kinda hungry, and I needed something to wash down that satanic Crystal Pepsi can from earlier. I explained to Jeff how the frosty beverage from earlier had actually made me salty.
When Jeff's truck pulled into the driveway, I felt a bittersweet sorrow. I mean, his face looked all fucked up like nightmare fuel, but I had no friends (I lied earlier, sorry) and I had always wanted to know a trucker. "Don't worry about it", Jeffrey remarked. "Just...go to sleep." "Huh?", I responded. "Tonight! It's healthy for an adult to get six to eight hours of sleep every night", he explained. What a nice guy! I thanked him for the food and health advice before shaking his mayonnaise-hued hand and parting ways. It felt like a cross between a fish head and a 7-11 slurpee that had been left out in the sun for too long.
Despite my trucker guardian's advice, I had trouble going to sleep that night. It had been such an eventful day!
After counting sheep and masturbating failed, I decided to turn on the TV. There was an infomercial for a cleaning substance that tasted like hot pockets and would give you directions if you used it like a GPS. This sounded pretty useful, and I was too fat to get up, so I left it on. "Pet food doesn't melt steel bees", a Billy Mays style knock off asserted. I guess that was true, though.
At this point, I fell asleep. But then I woke up again five minutes later, so that wasn't very useful. By the time I woke up though, the infomercial had ended, and I was greeted by a familiar sight: the Price is Right television game show program!
"Now here's your host: Bob Barker!", Johnny exclaimed. Hm. This must have been a really old episode. I smiled out of sweet nostalgia, before...before my toothy grin turned into a startled frown!
"Be sure to get all your pets neutered and spayed.", Barker remarked, before...before neutering a shu-tzu on live television! "There, kids! Now you try...on your parents!".
I would've shut the television off then and there, but I left my grabber in the attic, so I couldn't reach for the remote.
You know, they never really explained what 'the price' actually is, or what about it made it right, now that I think about it. Then again, I have a habit of overthinking these things.
At that point, I guess Bob Barker got across whatever his message was, because the show continued as normal. It was that part in which they pull contestants from the audience, but the way they went about doing it this time was... strange.
"Alright, folks." Barker continued. "Instead of guessing how much money a showcase costs, complete this lyric: 'Was it something I said or something I did? Did my words not come out (blank)?'".
A few seconds elapsed while Barker put away the index card he was reading off of and the Jeopardy write-in answer music played. Strange, but I guess it was innocuous. ...Right?
"What is 'showing one's genitals on Skype to your Internet lover'?", a blonde haired lady guessed.
"WRONG!", screamed Barker. He crumbled up his facial expression and hit a dusty old lever that was adorned with cobwebs. The blonde-haired lady screamed to what was presumably her demise!
"Next answer.", Barker said callously, as if nothing happened.
"...Harambe?", a teenage boy with a backwards baseball cap inquired. "RIGHT!", shouted Barker, but instead of the boy joining stage to play, a yeti emerged from a backstage cage + performed fellatio on him!!
Barker...Barker shook his head. "Your generation...", he began. "Your generation is yet to learn the price of its sense of humor."
He smiled. Really wide. A chill went down my spine. I was scared, for real this time. Bob Barker smiled. "But is the price...right?".
I felt a sudden burst of energy, presumably from the Crystal Pepsi that I had drank earlier. I got up to check the mail, which is quite possibly one of my favorite life hobbies. Taxes. Credit card offers. Letters from my Mormon neighbor who had moved away years ago because I told him I had pissed on the golden plates of Joseph Smith. You know: the usual.
Or so it was, until I opened up the final envelope that was in the box. It was from the cable company, and they were pissed that I tried paying them in gum, because I saw people try that on a Trident layers commercial, and it worked. "You haven't paid your bill in 576 days.", the letter began. "Send us money by midnight, or we'll chop off your dick."
Hmm. That sounded inconvenient. At the same time, I never gave into terrorists. I crumbled up the note and threw it down the sewer shaft outside of my house. Maybe Michelangelo could put it on a pizza, or something.
When I went back to rejoin the program in process, the screen was pitch black, but there was clear audio.
There were all sorts of terrifying screams! "I can't see!" "Turn the lights back on!" "They took my eyes!" I couldn't believe that this show was airing. I looked off into the corner of my room to think, but then I saw my reading spectacles lying there, shattered somehow! "Fuck you, four eyes!" was the next scream. I could tell that it was from Bob Barker.
Suddenly, the lights went back on, but what was now going on at the studio was...well, it was weird. Highly realistic blood, guts and bones were spilled all over the studio floor, and there was only one member in the studio audience now.... It was a skeleton in a top hat! It took out a vaudeville style cane + it started to sing!
"Doing good works only goes so far
When you're riding shotgun in a stranger's car
You might think it's a sandwich, but you should chew on this
The world can see through all of your shit!
Like Fred Flintstone and the Great Gazoo
The only viewer of this show is you
So let's guess some prices, or spin that wheel
That sandwich was your final meal!"
... Sandwich? This had to be some sort of coincidence. But then Mr. Crossbones opened up his drymouthed trap again.
"Mister Crystal Pepsi!!"
I was scared. So...so scared. I grasped my copy of L. Ron Hubbard's Dianetics and clutched it to my heart. I was raise to believe that if anyone had ever insulted me, it must be my fault and my fault only. It's my fault that I'm a virgin—not by choice—at the age of 45. It's my fault that Warner Bros. turned Bugs Bunny into a sitcom for kids. It's my fault that the dinosaurs sacrificed themselves to cause global warming. It was my fault, and my fault only. Me!
I tried bargaining with the TV set. I got no response. I tried communicating with it using my telepathic powers. Nothing. For whatever reason, the Lost Episode of The Price is Right was now ignoring me. Perhaps it felt that I should have known exactly what it was that I did wrong.
I took a bite into a crunchy gordita wrap that had been sitting there for days, and continued watching the episode. It was on the actual game show part of it, now.
There were three contestants. There was a little person. His name tag read 'Bilbo'. A smiling Native American woman revealed her name to be 'Samantha Ducklite'. And...and as for the final contestant...
Oh, my lucky stars! It was Jeff! "Happy Birthday, Randy!", he cackled. Who in the world was Randy?
"I'd like to buy a bowel, Pat.", Jeff snorted.
"My name isn't Pat, and this isn't the Wheel of Fortune, bub.", a voice responded. That voice wasn't Bob Barker's! Who was it? The camera panned over to the front of the set to reveal...
Drew... Carey!? "I lost weight from snorting a whole lot of blow!", he asserted. "Shut the fuck up! I gave you lipo!", Jeff hollered back. "That was your Price to get me on the program!".
The...Price. Yes...that's right. Y'know, they never really explained what 'the price' actually is, or what about it made it right... until now.
"Alright. This is going to be a 2-person show. I sold my soul to rock n' fool, so Jeff automatically makes it to Final Jeopardy. Bilbo and Sammy, you get to guess the showcase."
Nothing could have prepared me for what happened next. Instead of something fancy or cool like a mini-bar or a home entertainment set, it was...
"Your very own bathroom", Carey sneered. "And it's covered in shit." He wasn't kidding, either. The shower, toilet, sink, curtains, mirrors... they were all oozing in brownish-green diarrhea, like a scatological version of Nickelodeons' slime!
"Enhh... I'll bet five bucks", screeched Bilbo, looking a lot like Seinfeld's Newman. "Five dollars and one cent", Samantha responded cooly.
Drew shook his head. "You stupid...stupid fuckers. ...Show us the price, bub." An angry-looking actor who resembled Hugh Jackman from the X-Men strutted on stage to reveal the price as... "Five dollars, two cents. You lose at this game like you lost at natural selection, Bilbo."
What a terrible thing to say!! I was so offended that I wanted to write the station a letter of complaint, but then I remembered that this wasn't a real episode and all of these stories are fake, and anyone who leaves comments insulting me didn't understand what these videos were about to begin with.
I wondered if Drew was going to force Bilbo into a pit like Bob had done to the blonde-haired woman from earlier. Or would it be the cocksucking yeti? To my surprise, it was neither.
Bilbo expanded. He expanded into a giant. A Giant, gray-skinned creature with giant bug eyes. "You...fools!", he exclaimed. "You bigoted, bigoted, small-minded fools!"
Then he walked off the set. I thought it was pretty chill of him to take the high road instead of go all violent on them. "HAIL XENU!!", he exclaimed, as security carted him off.
At this point, I was glad that the episode was almost over. I remembered that real life Jeff had told me to get 6-8 hours of sleep tonight, and I agreed. I got myself some bacon-flavored ritz crackers (because bacon is awesome) and returned in time for the commercial break to end.
"It's time for the final showcase", Drew said with a serious look in his eyes. "But this time... you won't be the ones guessing the price."
Huh? What in the world did that mean? Well, whatever. I turned the TV off and hopped into my beanbag chair bed. I closed my eyes + drifted off to sleep.
I... I had the most vivid dream. Everything was on fire. Grassy fields, hills, mountains, beaches. People were set on fire. Others were lifted into the heavens. Angels blew trumpets from all four corners of the world. Oceans drained. The world was turning into a desert, now.
Suddenly, I saw two white wings flapping from the sky. No—it wasn't a bird, nor a plane. It was... it was Super Jeff! Jeff the Angel!
"The ride.", he explained. "The sandwich. The sleep. I was trying to save you, Todd. And I told you to get to sleep. But that was because... I thought that the goodness I had shown you would make you repent. And pay your cable bill..." The nightmare slowly faded to black...
I woke up in a hospital bed. I felt a couple pounds lighter. I stared down and shrieked in horror! Behind the bloody bandages...
My dick! It had been cut off! I would have to live out the rest of my days as a eunuch! As if to haunt me, a sexy blonde-haired nurse walked in to take care of me. She ripped off my bandages. "Head like a hole!", she giggled. "Black as your soul, Todd!".
Life without a pecker has been interesting. I've made a lot of female friends, because they think I'm harmless. I have to keep reminding them that I'm the bot who didn't pay his cable bill and got his dick chopped off for his misdeeds. As my Japanese grandfather used to say, 'C'est la vie'.
Years later, I went ack to my old job. I was picking up used condom wrappers off the side of the road when I heard a scream, and the sound of a pick-up trucking on by. By the time I turned around, I was greeted by a girl my age, wearing a Pepsi cola t-shirt.
"Hi!", she waved. My name... is Crystal.
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