Magical Sailor Fuku

The man sat in his chair, in front of a console with countless dials and blinking lights. He looked rather pasty, evidence that he had been in that chair or one similar to it for a substantial time. He wiped a little sweat off his pale brow, greasy hair sticking down a bit from the motion. "That's the last of them. Everything is ready. Now all we need are those contestants." He flipped a switch, one of many monitors above the console blinked as it changed feeds to a different camera. "I'll monitor the receiving area, and get cameras three through six on them."

"Get seven and eight down there as well. We want good coverage, especially before it all starts. The viewers AND the network will want to see what material we have to start off with." The pasty man at the console nodded and flipped a few more switches, pressed a few more buttons. Soon more of the monitors had different angles of what an airport lounge would be if it were actually comfortable. "Cameras ready, Ma'am. The crew is ready when you are."

From out of the shadows, a woman strutted close behind the pasty man as she took a sip of her iced mocha. "Bring them in. It's time we started this in earnest." The pasty man nodded and flipped one large switch. As he did, the woman peered at the screens and smirked to herself. "Let's make ourselves some money, Dave!" She slapped the pasty man on the back, and quite roughly with how he jolted forward. "Ye-yeah..."

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There is a lounge, with chairs arranged in a U shape with interlocking seats. The cushions seem soft and just fashionable enough not to hurt the eyes. There is a water dispenser with those little cone-shaped paper cups and a coffee table in the middle with butter crackers. On one side of the lounge is a small door, perhaps only seeming small compared to the large and thick studio curtains forming the far wall. This is definitely an add-on, as the roof is of normal height instead of the ghastly reaches a standard studio achieves.

The small door opens and a bored looking intern walks in to hold the door open for what he has been told is a group of people that, to his view, hasn't arrived yet. And so, as bored as ever, the intern sighs and uses his foot as a living doorstop. He waits, resentment in each breath as he knows that whoever it is that will come through that door, they will be more important than him.

[Okay, here it is! Go ahead and bring your characters in. We'll have you gather in the lounge for a bit just so everybody has a chance to introduce their characters.]

Malcolm enters the building. "I have arrived." He says. "Now where are the hot girls?"

Robert (My character's name, thanks to the edit that I did), pokes his nose through the door first, almost literally. Well...this seems like the right place, I guess... He thinks to himself, and looks over to the intern. "Thanks for holding the door open..." He says, then sits down in one of the chairs, pulling out a book.

Matt walks in gretting the doorman, before checking his cellphone. "Right on time" he says as he notices the dispenser and gets himself a cup of water before looking around. "Some people appear to still be missing, eh?"

SOra alks in and looks around. " so this is it eh?"

The intern shrugs and keeps the door open with his foot. He looks rather nondescript. "I hope it doesn't take long for them to arrive. At least you can get comfortable while you wait," he drones.

The woman in the darkened room grins from ear to ear as she looks down at the first of her victims. "Oh, please tell me you got that!" Dave slowly nodded. She took another sip of her coffee and sighed dramatically after pulling it away. "With material like this, we might be able to pull this off as a comedy show! Fantastic!" Dave, the pasty little man at the glowing control panel, frowned slightly. "Why would we want that?" He winced as a manicured hand slapped across the back of his head. "WHY? I'll tell you why! Comedies last longer, moron! ALF, Seinfeld, The Mother F---ing Cosby Show! Ever heard of the Simpsons?" She rolled her eyes and went back to studying the figures through the monitors as Dave rubbed the back of his head. "The longer the show runs, the more money I make off of it," she continued. "...don't you mean 'we?'" She half turned and stared at him in confusion for a moment before taking another sip and turning to the monitors.

"Yeah, it looks like there aren't that many here..." Robert says, then looks over at Matt. "That appears to be the problem....we apparently have to be patient..." He gets some water, then returns to his seat.

Walking along the street outside of the place, Cooke grumbles to himself. "J.D. better not have talked me into some crazy **** or I'm gonna kick his ass next time I see him..." Stepping into the place, Cooke looks around for a moment, silently, before walking around a little bit and moving over to stand by himself, taking a silent glance around at the other contestants.

Frank walks through the door with a confident stride, the look on his face practically screaming 'I'm definitely better than you'. He bumps into the door-holding intern as he enters, though it seems quite clear that he could've avoided the contact. "So THIS is my competition? Geez, this'll be too easy." he mutters just loud enough for the others to hear, a smirk shining on his face.

Matt nods and sits down, sighing before taking a sip of the water. "I wonder how long i'll take for everyone to appear"

Cooke eyes Frank. "I think someone needs to knock you down a few notches."

"Don't look at me, buddy. I'm just a doorstop." The intern gives Frank a bored stare.

The woman in the dim room stretched over the console to kiss the monitor. "Conflict this early! How wonderful!" Dave's pale complexion appeared less so as his eyes wandered to the woman's short skirt, which happened to be stretched up high over her buttox. "I can't wait to see what kinds of fights we'll get! Aren't you excited, Dave?" The woman peered over her shoulder at the little man, who appeared to be very busy staring at a particularly red button far away from her. "...you could say that."

Zacchaeus walked in and smiled politely at the intern. "Thank you for holding the door open." He doesn't look any of the other contestants as he sits down and takes one of the crackers.

Frank looks to Cooke with a venomous smile. "Well, good luck knocking me down some from way down there." the jerk said, leaning down a little. He had the height to match his ego, standing at 6' 5".

As he walks into the building, Sal takes an extra moment to loo the door-holder over--just taking a second to internally jot down the fellow's approximate height, hair color, and other defining features. Not that he was expecting their to be any hard crimes during the show...but well, it was an old habit, and it was one that had never steered him wrong in the past.
Turning from him, he continues into the room, leaning against the wall, where he can get a good look at the gathering crowd...