"He'd better," Stark said warningly. "If the anti-dope doesn't work, it
could mean a lot of trouble for the _Thrill Show_, Mr. Donnelly--"
The Producer looked frightened. "That's ridiculous. It's got to work.
It's _always_ worked--"
"You better call your Staff," the doctor said. "Find out what dosage
they gave this man. Check his FCC medical authorization. And do it
fast, Mr. Donnelly. This is just the kind of thing the FCC can hang you
on."
"Thank God I called that meeting!" the Producer said.
* * * * *
"Here's the straight poop."
Manford, the _Thrill Show_ director, looked briskly around the room.
They had gathered around the table in the conference room, the Staff
members still hollow-cheeked and shaken by their experience in the Jam.
"This fellow came into the office last week and signed up for a spot
in the _Thrill Show_. We needed somebody for the 'Battle of the Sexes'
show, and he was a pretty nice-looking guy. A little seedy, maybe. But
all right. He gave his right name--here's his record--but nobody on the
interviewing staff recognized him. Guess they're all a little too young
to remember Jerry Spizer very well--"
"All right," the Producer prodded. "So what happened?"
"Well, just the routine things. The FCC medical officer gave him the
standard physical. His psych check wasn't the best we've ever had,
but that's always a debatable business. When he showed up for work
yesterday, we gave him the regular dose of ten cc's of adrenalin and
four cc's of hypnomecholyl. That's s.o.p. for an Anger-Emotion Show, of
course."