Above: yours truly looking at my first question

Acknowledgements: Mike Klauss of TV-Gameshows.com for the vidcaps; and Gunnar Wetterberg, Michael Canter, Heather the Contestant Producer, Heath and Angie the P.A.s, host Mark L. Walberg and all the gang at Russian Roulette for letting me on the show (and putting up with me) in the first place.

About the picture above - what you didn't see: if you saw the show, you know that upon answering this question, I mentioned that if I choked on this question, I'd probably lose my job. Mark L. Walberg mentioned that he was a little worried about why I would lose my job for missing a question like this. Of course, I reminded him that I worked at a video store.

Mark's a good boy, but sometimes, ya just gotta make sure he's paying attention. But I digress…

As many of you saw on the big Drop Heard Round the World Marathon that kicked off the second batch of 65 episodes of Game Show Network's new quiz show, Russian Roulette, I, your humble Game Show Man, put my pride on the line to try and win $100,000. Unfortunately, even after answering all three of my questions correctly, I fell victim to a round-ending random selection. Am I sore? Do you think I'd be writing this if I were sore? I think not.

The same way most game show contestants do: I tried out.

To help you, the reader, who may not have ever thought of trying out for a game show, understand the process, I will detail my own experience.

The basic process a game show contestant goes through:

-Watching the show: ya gotta know what you're getting into

-Schedule an appointment: most shows will announce (via the newspaper, or an on-air phone number, like in the case of Roulette) when to do this and how

-The audition: this has its own process, which usually consists of a written test (to determine knowledge), an interview (to find camera-friendly personality), and a mock game (to establish understanding of the game's mechanics)

-The wait: like they say, "don't call us, we'll call you"

-The taping

So to actually step before the camera as a competitor, it actually takes several separate and distinct actions. The first two are self explanatory, so we'll skip to the audition.

I arrived at the Tribune Studios for my audition in early August (I remember that day, because my air-conditioning in my 1995 Grand-Am conked out, and it was SWELTERING in So-Cal that day). There, the other hopefuls and I went through the standard security procedures to get in, and once inside we met the gorgeous Heather Auble, the show's new contestant coordinator (she took over for Leslie Aqua Viva Shulman, who picked out the 270 contestants for the first 65 episodes). Previously, when I called in to schedule my appointment, I was given a quick ten-question quiz over the phone to qualify for the audition. I barely answered enough to get there.

After filling out the standard application forms, Heather introduced a visitor: series creator Gunnar Wetterberg. He did not really address the hopefuls, although he did clarify some of the strategy of the game. Next, we viewed a portion of Al Winchell's big $100,000 win. After that, instead of being administered a written test (it appears that the phone quiz served that capacity), we skipped to the interview, which also doubled as the mock game. Each person, in turn stepped before a small video camera and was asked to introduce himself or herself, say the wildest thing they'd ever done, and then were asked three questions, being required to cast a challenge on at least one of them (challenging opponents to answer questions is one of the most important concepts of the game, after all). I didn't really have anything too wild (although I used my "people think I look like Robin Williams" line; that IS true, by the way), but I played the game beautifully: I answered both of the questions I kept correctly, and even answered most of the questions that I was challenged to answer (a lot of them, too).

The Roulette gang called me to invite me to tape during a weekend in which I was in Las Vegas for a family friend's wedding; on August 28, 2002 (almost four years to the day after my Match Game '98 taping), I found myself back at the Tribune Studios as a stand-by contestant. I was also scheduled for a week later for a guaranteed taping, but a disqualification put me in the first game of the second trio of episodes; Roulette tapes six 30 minute episodes per tape day, three before lunch and three after. After all the legal stuff that took place when we got there (overseen by a lawyer from Sullivan Compliance Company, who I think was actually also at the Match Game taping, and in the same post, as well), we were taken to the set where we met Paul the Stage Manager. He explained everything that would happen, had everyone pull the trigger levers (with no effect of course) and dropped one of the P.A.s through one of the empty drop zones. After the players drew Ping-Pong balls to determine the first challenger, we were put separate green rooms, with all the players in one show in one room, all the players for the next show in another, and so on. I, as a reserve contestant, was put in the holding room, with another stand-by named Michael, who was guaranteed to play that day (he'd been at the previous tape day in the same situation), the P.A. who got dropped during the first briefing (who I think was named Heath; I'm embarrassed that I forgot his name, because he was a terribly nice fellow). We watched the U.S Open, drank Cokes, played a bit of Uno and Monopoly (Michael: "I haven't played Monopoly in years.") and yakked. As each player was knocked out of play, they joined us in the holding room, and told us of their experience. Included with this first bunch was Lucy Dunn, the older lady (and ex-Jeopardy! contestant) who dropped on the first episode of the marathon (and the third of the taping) after missing a question about how Ozzy Osbourne defaced the Alamo. While she waited for the staff to bring her paperwork, we watched Serena Williams playing against someone we'd never heard of, and Lucy mentioned that she had "noticed" (in the way a scolding parent might) Williams' posterior, as Williams' playing outfit displayed it rather prominently.

After the third episode was finished, we were offered a lunch of tri-tip beef (ahhhh, yes), roasted potatoes, and other stuff. Afterwards, we were called back to the set to repeat the briefing, with a different P.A., named Angie (who was the P.A. who called me to inform me of my tape dates) getting dropped. At this point, I was informed of the disqualification, and my addition to the first taping. After hearty congratulations from Michael and Heath, I stepped up to get my Russian Roulette on.

Before the show started, we met executive producer Michael Canter (who had just recently come over from Family Feud; I recognized him from his interview on the Family Feud E! True Hollywood Story), who gave us some last minute instructions, and of course, series host Mark L. Walberg (whose 40^th birthday was that weekend; the Roulette gang apparently hooked him up with a cake).

And then, up we went, up the stairs, over the bridge, into the Cylinder to play the game.

Above: after the first round's action, before the round-ending random selection drop.
From left to right: Game Show Man, student Justin, record company girl Heather, and boxing limo-driver John.

There were a few mistakes (and funny comments) that were edited out of the show, including the "Death Race 2000" bit above. In addition, there was:

-Announcer Burton Richardson (who was doing a bit of singing to warm-up the audience; he has a great singing voice) misreading my birthplace as "Ving City, CA." After the first round's action, he re-recorded my introduction with the correct spelling.

-Me ALMOST eliminating Justin on the question about the prize given out for poetry; at first they sounded the 'wrong answer' buzzer, and I cheered, but they stopped down, and revealed that had answered correctly. Rats.

-Mark asking John a question about "shillelaghs," and making a dirty joke about it afterward. Needless to say, the question was thrown out.

-Me dancing like a dork during the commercial break, much to the delight of the audience.

Above: Game Show Man after surviving the first round's random selection drop.

The rest of the show went as you saw it. I answered my questions right, never laid a finger on the trigger, and still dropped like a rock. Crap.

Nifty Russian Roulette Fact: the "thump" you hear when Mark says, "unlock Joe's zone" is NOT a sound effect (it may have been enhanced a little by a sound effect in later episodes). It is an actual, physical vibration that can be felt from the trapdoor as it is unlocked. The sound by itself is scary, but the vibration of the "thump" is downright terrifying…especially when it's not you pulling the trigger lever.

Another Nifty Russian Roulette Fact: the drop itself is only three feet down. To keep the players' heads from sticking out, they are instructed to take the impact (on a huge crash pad underneath the Cylinder platform) on their backsides.

When I landed, the grips (stagehands) underneath quickly attended to me to see if I was all right. I rolled backward over the crash pad, towards a waiting Angie, who took me to the holding room where I yakked with Heath and Heather, and watched The Maury Povich Show (not by choice, of course).

So I lost. Big deal. It was still great fun, and it generated memories that will last me a lifetime. And that, IMHO, is the real reason to get on a game show; not just to win some cash and goodies, but to be part of an experience that you carry in your heart forever…and no "reality show" can duplicate the joyous rush of a contestant on a real game show.

But that's another article altogether.

Frankly, I think Russian Roulette is one of the few Game Show Network originals worthy of a home game (Lingo deserves one too, but I digress…). Until some game company makes one, this game is easy enough to simulate with a six-sided die (or even a spinner with six spaces), a bunch of questions, and a bunch of play money.

As many as six players (or teams) can participate at once, with one player designated the host, asking questions and paying the money for right answers. Each player starts with $150. In the first round, each question is worth $150. As each question is asked, once more face on the die (or space on the spinner) is designated a "drop zone."

When a player misses a question, they must "pull the trigger" by rolling the die (or spinning the spinner). If they roll one of the numbers (or lands on one of the spaces) determined to be a "drop zone," they are eliminated from play.

At the start of each round, the dollar value for each question is increased by $50 (with questions worth $200 in round two, $250 in round three and $300 in round four). Whoever is left at the end of the game will, of course, have all the money earned in that game.

Play several full games (let each person be the host for one game). Whoever has the most money after everyone has been the host is the winner.

As always, questions, comments, concerns, insults, suggestions, and anything else you may wish to direct my way are welcome at gameshowman@winning.com.

Visit the official Russian Roulette website at http://www.gameshownetwork.com

Visit Gunnar Wetterberg Productions' website at http://www.gunnarwetterberg.com

And visit Mike Klauss' Russian Roulette fanpage at his famous portal site, http://www.tv-gameshows.com

And tell 'em the Game Show Man sent ya.

Back to the Headquarters.