NOTHING BUT A BAD TASTE. (✓)

02. TAGTEAM.

( unedited )

THE NEWS HAD ALREADY spread around like wildfire, and landed in the hands of a man with a penchant for exaggerating the truth. Fluorescent studio lights shone on the host, Corey Mack, who flashed his criminally-smug smile to the direction of Camera 1. "Boy, we've got an exciting show for you tonight! Are you ready to be entertained?" He was welcomed to the sound of raucous applause, as his brute voice was smothered with idol worship. His co-anchor, Amie Grant, was subject to the same worship but hers was more tempered, more light.

His bitty catchphrases were adult-centred, crass, and often wounding to the female gender with the artificial glare from the studio lights often washing out the humanity of the irreverent talk show host.

The tone of his topics weren't centred on lending sympathy to those he spoke about. There was no room for understanding. Instead, he had an affinity for dissecting the private and public lives of the rich and famous, no matter how ugly the skeletons were behind the closet, and adding his own two pence.

Grant didn't have much tact either, some thought that her and Mack were one and the same. She, on the other hand, disagreed — still believing that she still had a bit of humanity left in her.

But, the decision to have Grant (who was just as brute as Mack) to co-host with him was intentional. Network execs wanted to pit the two genders against each other, and allow Mack to be his unfiltered, misogynistic self as offence indeed sells.

Grant, though, loved sparking controversy.

Her excitement came from the public vilifying and making incendiary headlines as the media didn't hand out big payouts to those with a conscience. But, to those, who had the gall and the effrontery to be insensitive, outlandish and brutally honest.

"We sure do," gleamed a deviant Grant who shot her co-conspirator a teasing glance, gripping the handle of her mug like she sure knew what came next.

"Weddings. What are your thoughts on 'em, Ames?" crooked Mack, in his grating baritone, that was devoid of emotion and loaded with indifference.

"I hate weddings" Grant replied tersely; refusing to conform to the ideals of a modern day woman. She was abhorred the idea of being tied to a man long term, both emotionally and physically.

Mack's flecked cubic face couldn't mask his look of incredulity that over-thirty singled women, like Grant, could afford to be that picky. "And you're choosing to be this picky even with your ageing... bio clock?" He whispered the last two words but those words were decipherable.

Grant smirked placidly at his subtle cheap shot, the mechanisms of their on-air chemistry meant that she had to assume the role of his physical punching bag.

Single she was, not by default but by choice. "Men aren't some sort of the prize, Mack. It's him that's the lucky son of bitch if he bags me" jested Grant, making sure not to give him the satisfaction that he'd made such a public display of bruising her.

"Neither are women like yourself, so who really wins?"

She had gotten use to being the butt of Mack's sexist and deeply personal jokes, often laughing it off and occasionally throwing her own dagger at him.

"A man doesn't make a woman" she said sternly, the tone of the show had turnt awfully feminist.

Grant didn't feel a need to withdraw herself from this verbal tug of war despite the stern look that was cast her way by the show's lead producer, Ari Bergstein.