onto the stage, throwing his arms out wide, a PC-gaming Jesus Christ as the crowd howled his name. Definitely not someone who was going to struggle to form functioning relationships when he got older.
‘And of course, last but not least, we have this year’s Fortnite World Cup Champion, a Dreamcast Extreme Master, the most subscribed-to player on any streaming site in the world and host of PodPad’s first gaming podcast, the one, the only Snazzlechuff!’ I called out his name like a boxing announcer, riding the wave of screams echoing around the room. Rows and rows of teenage boys, teenage girls, grown men and even a few grown women leapt up, clapped their hands and stamped their feet as they waited for their hero to appear.
Only he didn’t.
‘Let’s hear it for Snazzlechuff!’ I shouted again, turning off my mic and sticking my head back through the curtains. Veronica, Ted and Travis were all standing around Max’s chair, where he was still playing his game.
‘Max,’ I hissed. ‘Get out here.’
‘Don’t wanna,’ he replied without moving.
‘That’s not funny,’ I said as the cheers began to fade away into discontented murmurs. ‘You need to come out here right now.’
‘No,’ he said, looking up at me as defiantly as someone in a robot mask was able to. ‘You need me to come out there right now. I need to play Super Smash Bros.’
I looked at Ted but he was frozen to the spot. Travis ran over to the sound desk and began fiddling with unnecessary knobs.
‘Veronica?’ I said, helplessly.
‘Kids today,’ she shrugged. ‘I’d give him a slap but it’s illegal. Maybe somebody shouldn’t have filled his head with ideas about giving up gaming.’
I gulped. How could it be anything other than my fault?
‘I know!’ Ted screeched. ‘You put on the tiger mask and pretend to be him.’
‘I think they’re going to know,’ I hissed, pointing at my tits. On the other side of the curtain, the crowd was beginning to get restless. ‘Travis,’ I ordered. ‘Cue the video.’
He nodded and gave a salute, hitting a big red play button in front of him. In the arena, I heard the crowds hush as our Snazzlechuff Says introduction video began to roll.
‘All right,’ I said, dropping to my knees in front of the teenage maestro and feeling nothing. ‘I am begging you. What do you need? Ted, did you get him that Chicago pizza?’
‘Order the pizza, I repeat, order the pizza,’ Ted barked into his iPhone. I could only assume he had the intern at Heathrow, ready to go.
‘Don’t want pizza,’ Max mumbled inside his mask.
‘Then what do you want?’ I asked, utterly frantic. I had not come this far to fuck up now. ‘Are you hungry? Thirsty? Do you want a new mask? The tiger mask? A real tiger? Ted, he wants a real tiger.’
‘Cancel the pizza,’ Ted screamed into his phone. ‘I repeat, cancel the pizza and find us a tiger.’
But still, nothing.
Taking a deep breath in, I dug deep. There was only one thing for it.
‘That’s it, you’re officially on my shitlist, Max,’ I said, fixing him with the glare of a woman whose fucks had all but expired. ‘Do you think I want to be doing this? No, I don’t. I’ve spent ten years working as a radio producer, I have won awards for my culture programming, I have produced interviews with world leaders, I have shown Greta Thunberg the way to the toilet. Michelle Obama once told me she liked my shoes.’
I paused to let that sink in but the robot was unmoved.
‘Yes, a real tiger,’ Ted marched up and down the room, still bellowing into his phone. ‘What other kind of tiger would I be talking about?’
‘But forget everything else I’ve ever done,’ I said, still focused on my target. ‘Because this is what we’re doing today and I have worked too hard for too long for you to cock it up now. I’m not going to get sacked because you can’t even be bothered to go out onto that stage and talk about Street Cleaner Three with your two chuckle buddies.’
‘Street Fighter Two,’ he corrected sullenly.
‘It could be Street Fighter Seventy-Eight for all I care!’ I shouted. ‘I am sick to the back teeth of putting all my energy into something when the other person could not give a flying fuck. Do you know how long women have been doing this? Forever, Max. For-Ever. So I will not eat your shit and call it ice cream, so either get