Game Show Pro

The Teacher Versus Batman

Want to audition like a game show pro? If so, you might need to plan your attack, write some lines, and then rehearse – just like the big movie stars do for their special appearances. (More about this further down.)

In the meantime, let me tell you about 'The Teacher Versus Batman'.

An acquaintance of mine once auditioned for Deal or No Deal. It was during one of those hometown casting calls, where Deal or No Deal takes its contestant search on the road.

My friend, seeking to become a game show pro, stood in line for hours, just to get 20 seconds with a casting director.

Twenty seconds. Not a lot of time.

"How'd it go?" I asked him the next day.

"Oh, alright," he said. "I guess."

"You don't sound too happy," I said.

"It's just that I didn't get a chance to tell them much."

"So what did you tell them?" I asked.

"Well," he said, "I started out telling them a little about my family, that I was one of three kids. And then I told them I had a couple kids of my own. And that I’m currently a teacher – but before I could tell them anymore, my time was up."

"You didn't tell them about your inventions?"

"I ran out of time," he said.

"What about your black belt?"

"Nope."

"But at least," I persisted, "you told them about the bat thing? Right?"

"I already told you," he said, "I ran out of time."

Now, this is a guy who's really into bats – those mysterious flying critters that may, or may not, turn into vampires at the drop of a fang. My friend collects bat artwork, bat books, and even a few batty stuffed animals.

I think of this guy as Batman. But what he really wanted to be was a game show pro – meaning someone who makes real money from a game show appearance.

So, let's review what my friend DID tell the Deal or No Deal folks.

• He has brothers and sisters.
• He has children.
• He's a teacher.

Let's review what he DIDN'T tell them:

• He's an amateur inventor.
• He knows kung foo.
• He's Batman.

How do you define yourself? If you're like me, you think first of the things that truly matter. You're a dad, a mom, a sister, or a brother. On the career-front, you might be a writer, a nurse, an electrician. Maybe you grew up in Michigan, or Tennessee, or New York.

Those things matter. They're who we are.

Here's one of my hair-brained theories on game show casting calls: If you want to be a game show pro, it's what doesn't matter that makes you stand out.

Here's a Brainstorming Exercise
Make a mental list of who you are, right down to your quirks and hobbies.

Rate them from most important to least important. Your list might start with the fact that you're a mother, and end with the fact the fact you collect potato chips that look like celebrity butt-cracks.

Now, turn that list upside-down. Review your quirks and hobbies. Are there any you can turn into a funny story? If so, practice telling that story. It must be short and snappy.

To help illustrate and analyze my point, I've pulled an example from a related article.

"It's really weird being married to a taxidermist, because my husband does a lot of his work at home. So here I'll go and open the fridge, thinking I'll grab a Coke or something, and 'Eeeeeek!' There's some squirrel in there -- except the squirrel's not quite done being taxidermized yet. So instead of a squirrel, it's more like Frankensquirrel."

Number of sentences: Four
Time it takes to tell that story: 14 seconds.

Remember, plan ahead!

Rumor has it, on big-name talk shows like The Tonight Show, the top stars have writers prepare their material. I suspect they go through a process similar to the one I outlined above, where they start with a true story, and then put an entertaining slant on it.

So those spontaneous, funny stories the guests are telling? Yup, pre-planned. I guess my point is this: with a little preplanning, you can be a star too. Or should I call you a game show pro?

Good luck!

Seeking more hairbrained theories on how to become a casting-call game show pro? Click here.