Alyssa Sinko

Writing and Rhetoric

Dr. McLaughlin
9/3/14
Big Break
Now that all the preparation and pampering is over, the clock seems to be paused
in time. Each face is fixed steadily on the second hand of the clock ticking, ticking ever
so slowly. We inch closer to the edge of our seats as the second hand finally hits the 12,
and the big hand hits the 5, sending us our signal that it is time to go. Our minds on repeat
chime the same phrase, Its 5:00. This could be our big break.
The plethora of screens in the control room seems to swallow up the large men
who are manipulating them. Even with the additional 5 people packed in the room the
glory of the screens is still overpowering. Consumed by the extensive maneuvering of
lights and the constant communication with the cameramen, the control room seemed to
be unmoved by our entrance. It took a couple of minutes for them to finally acknowledge
our presence. They hand us our props and for the millionth time that day they repeat our
roles.
Remember, the robust man in blue says, that this is an infomercial for the
Toasty Wrap. It is no longer called the Snuggie. If you call it the Snuggie while on
camera we will have to retake the scene. Got it? We all nod excitedly as if it was the
first time we heard it. He led us through a set of heavy doors, around a couple corners,
and then there we were, the scene we had been staring at through the screens for 3 hours.

The dimly lit displays on the screens were nothing compared to the bright
audience of people, who were all oddly covered in Snuggies, in front of us. We walk out
awkwardly as the crowd waits patiently to see the man they have all been waiting for.
The director handed us each a Snuggie and set us up on the stage. The bright lights beam
down on our freshly applied make up, dripping off each layer one by one as we await our
host, Maury, to step out onto the stage.
By the hype of the crowd and the excited looks on my sisters faces, you would
think we were waiting for the President of the United States. As a 7th grade girl, I had
never heard of Maury or his show. But after scanning the crowd of sweaty, Snuggie
wearing people, I started to get excited. After a couple of minutes out came the man of
the hour, or technically the man of the past 10 hours, since weve been waiting all day.
They made a theatrical announcement, everyone went crazy, and out came the most
average man I have ever seen in my life. By the look on my sisters faces, I could tell
they also have not seen him before or seen his shows. Looking back, I think it would
have been more odd if we had. You are not the father kind of shows is not usually the
type of television 7th grade girls watch.
After 10 hours of waiting, it was finally our chance. They set us up on a couch as
hard as concrete around a small ottoman with a bowl of popcorn, which we were
instructed not to eat under any circumstance. Which seemed bizarre to me, but I went
along with it. They gave us a countdown, 5, 4, 3, 2 and we were rolling. Maury gave an
intro and thats when I went stiff. Sweat dripped down my noticeably orange face and I
began to shake. Out of habit, I started sticking the popcorn into my mouth. Not just
gently placing it in a lady like manner, but shoving handfuls like I havent eaten in

weeks. The man behind the camera waved me to stop but it was too late. They placed the
camera on us for a total of 30 seconds, and then panned back to Maury.
They cut the scene and led us off the stage, through the control room of large
screens, and back into the dimly lit waiting room. We glanced at that same clock which
read 5:10.
The next day, life went on as normal. There were no make up artists, no fan
affair, just a regular school day in the life of a 7th grade girl. No one questioned my
absence the day before. It was almost as if no one knew I was almost famous. I played it
cool all day without ruining the surprise to anyone.
I walked back home later that day to see the deflated looks on my sisters faces.
They were hunched around our household computer reading through my mothers email.
Their gloomy eyes were glued to the message on the screen. I pushed my way through
them to read,
Thank you so much for your participation in our infomercial yesterday. After
further discussion and analysis we have determined that we will no longer be airing this
segment. We are changing the name of the product back to the Snuggie after the increase
in worldwide attention it has been receiving. Thank you again.
My mind circled frantically wondering, after 10 hours of shooting, how could you
just cancel it? I then recounted my excellent, natural performance, which obviously could
not have been the problem. Oh, well. I guess Ill have to wait until my next big break.