Ned and Emma want to bring hope to the hopeless. Intending to support Medical Aid in Dying for the terminally ill who can’t afford it, Ned eventually builds a live-streaming entertainment empire of death. His partner, Emma, engages in a reckless pursuit to counter his death-toll by performing spectacular acts of rescue on her own show. As they confront evolving moral challenges and death threats, Ned, Emma, and their production teams must consider how far is too far for a good cause.
Ned and Emma want to bring hope to the hopeless. Intending to support Medical Aid in Dying for the terminally ill who can’t afford it, Ned eventually builds a live-streaming entertainment empire of death. His partner, Emma, engages in a reckless pursuit to counter his death-toll by performing spectacular acts of rescue on her own show. As they confront evolving moral challenges and death threats, Ned, Emma, and their production teams must consider how far is too far for a good cause.
Ned locked eyes with the producer hidden behind the stage
curtain, invisible to the audience. Todd, six foot four, stood erect
with legs planted wide, dark arms crossed like a vigilant genie,
looking slightly paralyzed. Ned lifted his chin almost imperceptibly,
eyebrows raised, hazel eyes questioning. Todd gave a brief nod and
closed his eyes, giving the host the go-ahead. Ned breathed in
slowly, deeply, completely, and turned towards a lank fellow seated
center stage with his hands resting limply in his lap.
Given the circumstances, the young man appeared remarkably
perky. Ned was pleased. He found that the Aspirants intuitively
grasped the need for showmanship and rallied to go out on a
positive note. Of course, it was also a matter of pride. No one wants
to be remembered as a blubbering crybaby. In his Barcardi track
suit, emblazoned with the logo of a black and gold bat encircled in
red, the Aspirant could have been lounging in an upscale coffee
shop. Ned had a sudden, unwelcome thought that he would much
rather be bringing him a cappuccino.
He squelched the vision and gave the stage a last sweeping
scan. It took in the wide white stage floor and in the center, a large
round plastic mat lipped all the way around, where the Aspirant sat
on a simple sturdy chair next to a small metal table. The scene was
constructed to give a sober, almost medical impression coupled
with easy cleanup. In the background, off to the right side, was an
enormous display screen with a trickling stream of comments from
the internet community watching on livestream. Ned’s eye caught
one as it drifted upwards in the queue, ‘Git on wittit!’ The distant
viewers were always so much more impatient than the live
audience. The next comment scolded, “Waz your hurry,
@Bachman1982? Lez enjoy the show!”
Facing the studio audience, Ned began, “Welcome to That’s
EnterAttainment!, and thank you to everyone joining us, via
livestream or here in person for tonight’s DDE – or ‘Dynamic Dying
Event’, for any first-time viewers. This evening, we will accompany
our terminally ill Aspirant as he ends his life by his own hand.” He
turned his focus to the Aspirant, and they smiled warmly at each
other. “We’ve put together a five-minute review of your life to share
your journey with our audience. Shall we begin?”
The Aspirant nodded, and Ned gestured to the big screen. It
filled with a combination of video and floating still images. First, a
baby waddling on impossibly chubby legs to his mother, falling
down on his fluffy diapered bottom, and squealing contentedly as
she took him in her arms. Bygone photos of bath-times and meal-
times. The montage moved forward in time as a recorded voice-
over narrated the key events of his life - science fairs, family
vacations, holidays, winning the 50-yard dash in sixth grade, his
first movie date with a girlfriend in eighth grade, the junior and
senior proms with the same girl, and finally wedding photos of the
two of them at the Grand Canyon. Idyllic.
The story progressed, illustrated by dozens of pictures showing
the good times they’d had in five years of marriage. The voice-over
continued, “As a dedicated school therapist and beloved coach to
his nephew’s track team, this young man had it all. A happy
marriage, a close family, a fulfilling job, a vibrant community… But
we know now, underneath all of this joy, a darkness was growing….”
The images now showed picture after picture of the once healthy
and happy man now ravaged and gaunt, connected to tubes,
propped up in a hospital bed.
“And these images bring us to our task here today. Life hasn’t
been kind to you these past two years,” stated Ned.
The young man struggled a bit to sit up straighter while he shook
his head, “No sir. It’s been unbearable. I’m grateful to be here with
you today as an Aspirant.” The screen behind him faded, leaving
behind an image of the waddling baby so faint it was barely visible.
The comments screen reappeared over it, thick with opinions.
“Then let’s get started.” Ned addressed him formally, “Jose
Demarcos, are you here today of your own free will?”
“I am.”
“Jose, have you exhausted all means of staying alive?”
“I have.”
“Jose, please tell the audience why you are here.”
Jose turned his face to the crowd, jaw set to curb emotion. “I
have an incurable stomach cancer. No treatment over the past
twenty months has cured it. I have only a few months left to live,
and I am in unmanageable, intolerable pain. I choose to leave this
life today. By ending my life in public, I hope to raise money for
others in the same situation and to convince viewers to vote for a
president who will restore our right to privacy, protecting our right
to choose what happens to our own bodies.”
Ned waited while the audience finished clapping and cheering.
His eyes briefly shifted to the A-Counting display right above the
comments. The numbers clicked steadily as more donations rolled
in. “Thank you to our supporters for your contributions! Remember,
the money you donate today will be shared between Jose’s family
and The Aspirants Solidarity Fund!
“Jose, please tell the audience what method you have chosen
to end your life.” Ned felt himself tense as Jose took in a short sharp
breath, wondering if the cocktail of painkillers and caffeine they’d
given him was wearing off.
Jose exhaled, then said, “In a gesture aimed directly as an act
of revenge upon my insides, which have betrayed me and are killing
me, I have chosen to die today by drinking a lethal combination of
alcohol, bleach, and ammonia.” The audience gasped in unison,
which escalated quickly into a roar of chatter. Ned scanned the
crowd to better gauge the reaction. The chat screen flared with
mute frenzy. The ferocity of the internet reaction was better than
anticipated.
Ned raised his voice over the animated buzz of the studio
audience and boomed, “Anyone who chooses may leave now.”
Scraping sounds emerged from the stands as guests gathered their
things, but one minute later, only four people of an audience of two
hundred had left.
Ned had been waiting patiently, watching the audience stare at
the Aspirant, some reading the screen as it constantly updated with
new commentary. It boiled with both hilarious and abusive
language aimed at the people who left. A low whispering hummed
through the studio. Ned glanced again at the display. In the two
minutes since Jose’s announcement of death by cocktail, the
livestream had rocketed to over seventeen million live viewers and
was still climbing. At $10 a pop per viewer… Ned wavered for a
moment. This was crazy. This was their biggest audience yet. Last
week’s guillotine episode must be feeding into today’s numbers.
Livestream bloodlust. He realized he was flaking out and redirected
his attention to Jose.
“Jose, are you ready to end your life by the means you have
indicated, or would you like to walk out of here with no
consequences and no debt?” Todd, the producer, had advised Jose
to pause here. Not only to give himself one last moment to sincerely
consider what he was doing, but also to raise more money. It was
a fact that a few extra seconds of silence heightened the tension
and boosted ratings, but too long made the Aspirant look uncertain.
Right at the sweet spot, Jose looked directly at Ned. “I have no
debt. I’ve said good-bye to everyone I love. I choose to die now in
the manner I have chosen.” The audience roared in approval.
With all of the scripted dialog finished, Ned had no choice but
to proceed. Actually, that wasn’t entirely true. He could backtrack.
As the architect of the show, he could stop what he was doing,
confront the studio audience, address the livestream, and ask
them all what the hell they were doing. He had the charisma and
power to interfere. Instead, he felt carried by the strong current of
his own ideology, the heady momentum of ratings, his legal
responsibilities to his sponsors, and the disconcerting thrill of doing
something taboo. With a trademark sweep of his arm, Ned looked
at the crowd and exclaimed, “You heard the man – It’s time for
That’s EnterAttainment!”
A man dressed like a high-class waiter entered the studio rolling
a metal drinks cart towards Jose. On it were five empty crystal shot
glasses, two crystal tumbler glasses, and two elegantly shaped
decanters sloshing languidly with transparent, shimmering liquids.
Next to them were two bottles, labels facing the crowd and cameras
for maximum exposure. The sponsors had insisted that their
products be not only highly visible, but also actively promoted to
the audience. The notoriety of That's EnterAttainment! made for
profitable partnerships with strict contract requirements. The cart
rolled to a stop and the waiter, investing his role with high energy
and arching sweeps of his arms, began narrating each step of the
preparation of the deadly cocktail.
He swept the first bottle into the air over his head, presenting it
to the studio audience and posing in front of a camera to offer a
close-up to the livestream fans. “This bottle has been salvaged
from the private stock of Casa Bacardi. Discontinued in 2016,
bottles of Barcardi 151 are almost impossible to find nowadays.
When the Barcardi company heard about Jose and his love of rum,
they felt that it was their duty to help fulfill his final request. They
generously donated this precious bottle for this show. It’s named
for its alcohol proof level of 151, which is 75.5% alcohol by volume!
I’m going to prepare five shots of Barcardi 151 for Jose, which he
will drink in quick succession to fill his system with alcohol. Let’s
give a hand to Jose and Barcardi - a relationship so sincere that
until death do they part!” The audience laughed while the waiter
bowed, and Jose clapped vigorously on stage.
The waiter strutted to the steel cart next to Jose and with great
flourish, poured five shots of the honey-colored liquor, letting it arc
through the air on its way to each glass. “Please note the beautiful
crystal Baccarat Beluga glassware. The Baccarat company has
donated these glasses so that Jose is surrounded by beauty and
high quality during his last moments.” He held a sparkling glass up
to the lights and waved it around for effect.
Setting it down with delicacy, he picked up the next bottle and
paraded in front of the audience again, brandishing it aloft. “This
rum is another gift from our friends at Barcardi. You all recognize
this iconic bottle of Barcardi Coconut. Yummy! I’ll be adding a
topper of Barcardi Coconut to those lovely golden shots of Barcardi
151, to make them super tasty for Jose.” He glided back to the
drinks and added a satisfying drizzle to each shot. “We’ve named
this delicious new shot in honor of our brave Aspirant - the ‘Jose
Bullet’!” Once again, the audience clapped, stomping their feet in
approval.
He raised the two crystal decanters, waggling them each in turn.
“This Baccarat Beluga decanter contains industrial bleach, the
strongest concentration available, and this decanter contains 15%
concentrate ammonia. Once Jose finishes his five shots, he’ll follow
up with these two chasers.” He filled each tumbler. Putting down
the decanters, the waiter looked up with a mischievous smile.
“We’re almost ready to start now, but I couldn’t forget the most
important part! We’re all going to accompany Jose with his first
shot. The Baccarat and Barcardi companies have provided crystal
shot glasses and a shot of the Jose Bullet for every audience
member!”
Amid enthusiastic applause, ten waitresses wearing snug tee-
shirts bearing the Barcardi /Baccarat logos entered the studio in
single file, each carrying a silver tray above her head. They circled
around the stage before moving up the middle aisle to pause in
between each of the ten rows. Each waitress distributed the shots
to the left and right of her, ten to each side, while audience
members passed each shot along to the end of their row. Several
audience members had huge smiles, holding a shot in each hand
that they had gained because a row-mate had left. In less than
three minutes, each person had a shot in hand, and the waiter and
his waitresses were gone.
Ned, who’d been a silent observer standing to the side of the
stage, stepped closer to the audience and held his shot above his
head for all to see. “An enormous thank-you to Jose Demarcos, who
has chosen to share the end of his story with us today to raise
awareness for privacy, personal determination, end-of-life dignity,
and most importantly, to bring hope to others!” He waited until the
applause faded before continuing. “Another huge thanks to our
sponsors, Barcardi and Baccarat, for their generosity today towards
Jose and our audience. These beautiful Baccarat Beluga crystal
shot glasses are yours to take home as a souvenir, and I’m sure
we’re all going to love these Jose Bullets! I invite you all to join Jose
and me for this first shot as we keep him company on the final
steps of his journey on That’s EnterAttainment!. Everyone together
on three! One! Two! Threeeeeeeee!”
The entire audience threw back their heads in unison. Up on
stage, Jose reached for his second shot. Then the third, fourth, and
fifth in quick succession. He was unstoppable. The crowd cheered
and hooted, while the comments screen filled so feverishly it
blurred as the texts scrolled upward. No matter. Jose already had
a tumbler in each hand. He raised them to the audience, hollered,
‘Thank you!”, and with no hesitation, chugged the bleach. A second
later, he leaned his head back and poured the ammonia down his
open throat, almost like he was swallowing a sword. The clicking of
the A-Counting display accelerated like a machine gun.
This is probably one of the best books I've had the honour to review here on Reedsy. The author 'admits' he has self-edited and self-published the book, but other than a few slight typos and perhaps a tendency to take the ending bits too long, it's a fabulous read.
The reader should know it is a lot about suicide - assisted suicide in this case, but occasionally assisted gruesomely. It also touches on rescuing people and animals from abuse, trafficking of people and drugs, mental illness, and a fair slew of other nasty illegal things. And politics...
That said, and I know this sounds a bit challenging to believe, but the whole story is told with heart. The motives behind the assistance given by Ned and Emma are initially pure. Like all things done for effect, they lose their way somewhat, leading to the thriller sections of the story.
The plot runs along, taking believable steps, given our current culture. Online events are used to help support a political agenda and alter an election - very prescient these days. Each character is well-rounded and thoughtful, given to questioning their choices and searching for humanity, while the story charges on. It was very hard to put down!
I have limited patience with the usual stories that take the timeline back, as in "Six months ago", after starting the stories with a bang, but this is done so well, and the explanations for actions handled so deftly I honestly could not stop reading.
The book starts in the present, floats back in later sections to the past, and finally ties everything up in a bow in the present. There are many characters, and occasionally they are difficult to keep track of in the multiple timelines, but all comes clear and the reader is left with the thought that they'd like to meet these complex characters sometime.
Well-done, and I hope to read more by this author.