I was on a business trip to America, when I think I may have experienced one of the most unusual events ever seen on TV.
I'd had a hard day, and all I wanted was to get back to my hotel room, lie down on the bed, and watch some mindless television. I flicked through seemingly countless channels, but nothing seemed to catch my eye. Everything seemed to be commercials, with maybe two or three minutes of the actual programme for each five minutes of being told what I should wear, where I should eat, how I should live, and so on.
Eventually I found a programme guide, and scanned through it, accompanied by cheesy muzak and more mindless advertisements. After a little searching, I found something that looked like it might be worth watching.
"Face Your Phobias... Live! A man tries to overcome his fear of heights, and a woman comes face to face with her worse fear, a 23ft python"
Anything with women and pythons is good in my book, especially when the snake is 23ft long. It was due to start in a little under 10 minutes, so I scoured the hotel for a coke machine, finding one lurking besides a ice machine. After feeding it what seemed like about twenty quarters, it eventually gave me a Diet Coke. The ice machine started to hum menacingly as I was standing there, so I gave it a long hard stare, then returned to my room, lukewarm can in hand.
I still had a couple of minutes until it started, so I watched for local attractions trying to tempt the brainless TV viewer to visit them, and made a mental note that I would not. After what seemed much more than two minutes, the programme eventually started. I'll try and describe it as it unfolded, although I think my ability to write limits my ability to conjure up precisely what I was amazed to see.
"Hello, and welcome to Face Your Phobias Live!" The woman presenting was blond, bubbly, and almost certainly brainless. Her male sidekick took over from her.
"Today, on this special Live edition of Face Your Phobias, Larry from California faces his fear of heights with a daring rope bridge crossing over 300ft above the ground. Mel from Texas meets her nemesis, a 23ft Burmese python, and attempts to spend five minutes alone with it in the pitch black."
"But first," the woman talking again, "Dennis from Maine becomes good friends with a tarantula, as he tries to overcome his arachnophobia." I'll admit that I was more than a little surprised to see her manage such a long word, but I imagine that she'd been rehearsing it all morning.
"Over to Bruce, our resident animal expert." The man was talking again, obviously the poor blond had been worn out by the mental agility required in saying arachnophobia.
The camera cut to a man in safari gear, complete with rather ridiculous hat. On the brim of the hat was perched a large, hairy tarantula. He removed the spider, and held it out to the camera.
"This is Terry, a Mexican redrump tarantula." Unsurprisingly, he had an outrageously strong Australian accent. "He's fairly tame, although a little nervous. He won't bite though, he'll just try and run away if he's scared, and he can be quite the sprinter."
The camera cut back to the blond, now in the company of a rather nervous looking man. "You're looking a little nervous, Dennis, not just Terry" she asked the man.
"I'm not sure I like the look of that spider, and it's not much comfort to know that he's scared too."
"So how long have you been scared of spiders?" she asked.
"As long as I can remember, I guess. They're just small, creepy and nasty," he replied.
"I'm not sure you could call Terry small."
"No, I guess he's big, even creepier, and even nastier."
"Over to our Thaddeus, our phobia expert, for some information on the fear of spiders." My theory seemed to have been proved, she had obviously been exhausted by saying arachnophobia once, and couldn't manage it again. The camera cut again, to a man in suit and glasses, clearly supposed to give an air of intelligence about him. It failed dismally.
"Nearly everyone in this country suffers from some fear of arachnophobia. It's probably the most common phobia around, although most people only suffer mildly. Unfortunately, Dennis seems to have it worse than most.
"In nearly all cases arachnophobia is completely unfounded. The kind of spiders that people see in their daily lives are terrified of people, wishing just to live a peaceful life catching bugs. They even do some good around the house, catching flies, and so keeping our food free from harmful germs."
"Back to you, Vicki." The camera went back to the blond and Dennis, now joined by the Australian.
"You see, Dennis, there's nothing to be scared of. And Terry's not so bad in the flesh, is he?" I noticed that she was deliberately keeping well away from the tarantula, flinching every time he moved towards her.
"So, you want to hold her, mate?" The Australian held his hand out, with the tarantula on his palm. "Try the hat, it's what makes us Aussies brave, y'know." He took the hat off his head, and stuck it onto Dennis'. "Suits you!" he said, clearly lying. A hat like that suits no-one.
"Thanks," said Dennis. "but I don't feel much braver yet."
"Blimey, where's Terry gone?" said the Aussie. "I could have sworn I had him before I took my hat off." The spider was sitting on top of the hat, clearly visible to everyone except Dennis. After a few seconds of the two presenters pretending to search, Dennis worked out what had happened, and his face lit up with the pride of having solved the mystery, before turning rather more worried.
"Ah, there you are, mate. Fancy coming of my hat and saying hello to my mate Dennis?" Bruce reached up to the hat, removed the arachnid, and held it out to Dennis. "Go on, hold him, he's very friendly." The spider stepped slowly onto Dennis' trembling hand, and he flinched as each new leg touched him.
"Hey, it kind of tickles," Dennis said. The tarantula started to crawl up his arm, and he put his other in its path for it to climb onto.
"A big round of applause for Dennis please, and of course for Terry," the blond requested, and the unseen audience provided one. "Are you going to be getting a Terry of your own sometime soon, Dennis?"
"Not quite yet, I think, but I don't feel so scared of spiders any more."
"Just make sure you give him back!" the Aussie quipped. The studio audience laughed; I didn't think it was particularly funny.
"We'll be back in five minutes. Don't go away," the blond said. With the promise of a 23ft python, I wasn't planning to.
I know that there hasn't been anything too interesting so far, but I want to tell this story properly. It wouldn't be right to leave out everything but the good bits, and believe me, once the commercials were over, things started to get a lot better.
After the countless moronic commercials, the programme started again, with the blond still looking as empty-headed as ever. "Next up, Mel meets a 23ft python. While she gets ready, here's what she had to say earlier."
The screen changed to the male presenter sitting next to a woman, clearly Mel. In the bottom left of the screen, the words "Recorded earlier" floated. "This is Mel, she's 19, from Texas, and she's terrified of snakes. Mel, tell us a little about your fear."
"I suppose it started when I was only three years old, when my sister got bit by a rattlesnake. She survived, but it was scary, and I've been scared of them since. There's lots of rattlers round where we live, you never seem them, but you know they're there, waiting to bite you."
"I think that would make me scared of them. The snake we're going to introduce to you isn't poisonous like a rattlesnake, but I think it's probably a little bigger. Bruce, do you want to bring her in?"
This was the moment I was waiting for. At that length, and with a temperament suitable for appearing on television with an inexperienced woman, it must be a Burmese python. At least, for her sake I hoped it was. The idea of them bringing on an angry green anaconda, while it would probably make proceedings more interesting, seemed a little unlikely. Besides which, the TV Guide had said it would be a 23ft python, and as everyone knows, they are always completely accurate.
Bruce appeared, snake draped over his shoulders, a slightly nervous assistant behind carrying the tail. I was right, it was a Burmese, and by the looks of it about 18 or 19ft long, about standard for a "23ft" snake.
"Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!" Mel screamed. I was surprised; she didn't seem the religious type. "I'm not going anywhere near that!" To be honest, Mel, I would have happily swapped places with you.
"She's called Lucy, and she's very friendly," Bruce said, accent grating already. "All she wants is to give you a bit of a hug."
"I'd rather she didn't," Mel said, her voice quivering slightly.
"Besides," the presenter cut in, "we wouldn't want to spoil you for your later meeting." I imagine she'd probably handled the snake a few times already, but she still looked genuinely scared. "So, Mel, do you want to hear about how exactly you're going to get to know Lucy?"
"I'm not sure I do."
"I'll tell you anyway. We're going to lock you in a dark room, and then let Lucy in to join you. Although it will be pitch black, we'll have a microphone in with you, and special heat sensitive cameras, so that our viewers at home can see what's going on."
This was sounding disappointing. I wanted full colour, not the odd shades of an infra-red camera. In fact, they probably were just going to fake the whole thing, probably add on the snake by computer, even a poor fake would look convincing on an infra-red view.
"We'll let Mel get ready," the presenter continued, "and go over to Thaddeus, to hear something about snake phobias."
The camera went back to the man with the glasses, and the "Recorded Earlier" disappeared from the screen.
"Like arachnophobia, ophidophobia, the fear of snakes, is one of the most common phobias. Although most people only very rarely come into contact with snakes, they develop a fear of them which is unfounded. In this case, with Mel having experienced a snake, there is some basis behind the fear, but usually snakes try and avoid human contact, and are probably more afraid of her than she is of them.
"Some cultures revere snakes, with many primitive tribes believing that they are gods. However, this country is not one of them, and treats them as pests. Not only is this incorrect, as snakes keep genuine pests such as rats and mice down, it is also responsible for phobias such as Mel's. Now, back to the studio."
The camera cut back to the studio, with both of the presenters present. There was a TV beside each of them, and they showed an infra-red image of what I presume was Mel.
"Mel is now in our sealed room. It's pitch black in there, but we'll be keeping our heat sensitive cameras on her. How are you feeling, Mel?"
"Nervous!" Her voice sounded distant, and echoed slightly, as I would expect if the microphone was in the wall of her room. She laughed, but I could hear the worried edge on it. Maybe they were doing this for real. It wasn't inconceivable, but in today's culture I expect everything to be fake.
"Bruce, do you have the snake ready?" The camera cut to him, holding the python in a small room. Clearly one of the walls was mobile, and I guessed that it would slide up to join the room to that which Mel was occupying.
"I sure do. I'll put her down, and leave the room, ready for you to let her in to see Mel." He took the coil from his shoulders, and placed it onto the floor, then stepped through a door, which slid shut behind him. The lights suddenly cut out, and the camera went back to the presenters.
"OK Mel, we're ready to let the snake in to you. We'll let you out after five minutes, but just shout if you want to finish early. We'll switch the signal to the heat sensitive camera, so that everyone at home can see what's going on. Ready, Mel?"
"As I'll ever be."
"Release the snake!" The screen cut to the infra-red view, and over the microphone there camera sound of sliding as the partition raised. As it became high enough, the snake appeared on the IR view, just a faint smudge, its cold-blooded body conserving heat much better than the bright red shape of Mel's.
The python appeared inquisitive, not staying where it was, but heading straight over to Mel. The darkness was probably no obstacle to it, relying on its heat sensing abilities to navigate in the dark. There was no sound from Mel, but she appeared to be glowing even more brightly, obviously sweating with fear.
I watched the two shapes grow closer, until suddenly Mel's voice came out of the TV speakers, although only managing to make the single sound "Sh", before being obscured by a bleep.
"I felt it touch me! Sh*Bleep* And again!" The image of her jumped away from the snake, but its curiosity was aroused now, and it followed her.
"You're doing fine, Mel," the female presenter called.
"I'd be doing better if there wasn't this snake here with me. Oh God! It's on me again."
The Australian voice of Bruce rang out. "She's only checking you out, to see what you are. She's just an inquisitive little girl."
"That makes me feel much better." However, this time she stayed still, and the dull glow of the snake's body began to obscure the bright red of hers. "Wow, she's heavy."
"You see, she just wants to make friends."
"That's one minute gone." The male presenter cut in over Bruce. "Only four left, Mel."
"That's four more than I'd like," she responded. However, she let the snake continue to move around her, but then suddenly jumped up, and moved to the other side of the room. "I think that's as friendly as I need to get with the snake."
The python had other ideas, and headed towards her again, seeking the warmth of her body. She gasped slightly, and jumped backwards when it touched her again. "I think she likes me," she joked, the nervousness still evident in her voice.
The camera suddenly flickered off, then rapidly back on again. "Three minutes left," the presenter called.
Again the camera flicked off and on, but then off again, this time staying off. "It looks like we've lost the camera for a few seconds," the presenter said. "We'll get it working again as quickly as we can, until then, Mel, tell us what's going on."
"I'm sitting down, and the snake is crawling over my legs. It's not so bad now I'm used to it."
"I knew she had it in her," Bruce said. The camera flicked back on again, and for a second the shape of the snake was visible upon Mel, until it went off again.
The screen cut to the studio, only the woman sitting there now. "We're sorry about this, folks," she said. "We'll get it fixed as soon as we can, until then Mel can keep us informed. Just coming up to two minutes left, Mel, how are you feeling?"
There was silence.
"Two minutes, Mel, how's it going in there?"
Still nothing. "Are you alright in there, Mel? Mel? Sorry people, it looks like we've lost sound as well. Our engineers are working right now to fix it."
Suddenly there was a gasp, and a muffled cry, recognisable as Mel. "Stop the show," the presenter ordered. "Turn the lights on, and someone get in there. Switch to..."
The rest of what she said was lost as the image was replaced by a test card, and the sound by a low beep. To say I was disappointed was an understatement. Just as it looked as though it was getting interesting, and they go and cut the signal.
A generic female voice replaced the beep. "We apologise for the technical difficulties we are experiencing. We'll try to restore the program as soon as possible." It didn't look to me as though the problems they were suffering were technical in nature, and I doubted the program would be back.
Suddenly the test card disappeared, and was replaced by an image of a square room, brightly lit with white light, and in the corner, the snake, all (supposedly) 23 feet of its length wrapped around Mel. Her legs were still visible, kicking faintly, but most of her body was covered by the coils.
A voice came out of the TV's speakers. "The door's stuck; we can't get in. We'll have to break it down." There was a muffled bang, and the outline of the door shook slightly, but showed no signs of giving.
Meanwhile, I watched, captivated by the shimmering coils, the bright studio lights making each scale glow. They slid over her, slowly getting tighter, each of her breaths visible by the tiny adjustments the python was making.
"Can you zoom in on her?" someone in the studio asked. The picture went fuzzy briefly, then a closer view appeared.
The coil over her head dropped down over another, revealing her face. Her eyes were rolled back into her head, and there was blood around her mouth. It looked like they were going to be too late, even if they did get in. Just as quickly as it had been revealed, a coil hid the face again.
"Oh my god!"
The seething mass of coils and woman suddenly moved, and I saw a foot push against the wall, freed for a moment from the python's grasp. She was still conscious, still fighting, but it was clearly a loosing battle.
"For fuck's sake, someone open this fucking door. She's still alive in there." That was the male presenter.
Her movement stopped again, leaving just the gentle war of attrition, each time she exhaled giving a little more ground to the snake, her lungs being compressed a little more. I could not look away, held as tightly by the picture on the screen as she was by the python.
"I don't understand, I only fed her a couple of days ago." For a couple of seconds I didn't recognise the voice, then I realised it was Bruce. The Aussie accent was faked.
The python seemed to notice something, and stopped crushing any further. I could guess the reason behind it. The prey was ready to be consumed, her lungs no longer breathing, possibly even the heart no longer beating.
"An ambulance is on its way. Any progress on getting in?"
The coil around her head loosened, then dropped away. Her face appeared still, the mask of death upon it. The python's head moved above it, and I watched, utterly fixated, as slowly the jaws started to separate and dislocate.
"Nothing. The door lock is inside the wall, we can't force it."
It seemed as though her head would never fit, but ever so slowly the jaws slid over her hair, then down over her face. Another coil started to unravel from around her neck, clearing the way for the snake's powerful throat muscles to pull her down.
"Holy Shit, it's eating her." That was Bruce again, stating the obvious somewhat.
The pattern of scales expanding and contracting as they stretched over her head was simply beautiful. There was no other word to describe it. No images have ever stayed in my mind as clearly as this one, death at its most exquisite.
"We've got to get in there!"
As the jaws stretched over her shoulders, many times the size of the python's head, but made possible by a miracle of natural engineering, the coil around her chest started to unravel. Her body seemed so tiny, lying still in the grip of the serpent.
The studio had fallen silent. They must have been as captivated as I was.
The jaws inched over her breasts, pushing them flat within her shirt. For the snake's sake I hoped that they were all natural; who knows what kind of effect silicone can have on a python's digestion?
The coil holding her chest, now loose, rolled over the snake's head. There was only one more coil around her now, holding her legs, and that was starting to loosen. Maybe she was trying to breathe again, deep inside the python's throat, the pressure released from her chest.
It would do her no good if she was. She belonged to the snake now. She would be digested, clothes and all, to feed the muscles which had crushed her, to grow a new skin over the shimmering scales, to become more beautiful than she ever had been in life.
I never found out how it ended. Just before she disappeared into the snake entirely, the screen went back to the test card again, and eventually the next programme came on. Strangely, there was nothing about it in any papers, or on TV news. Maybe I imagined the whole thing. I don't know.
By Konstricta