The Alice Scholaighe Show!

The bodacious redhead studied her reflection critically as she ran a pink polished fingertip across her cheek. The light bulbs surrounding the mirror lit up her creamy skin and made her green eyes all the more venomous.

She nodded as her brows ceased to crinkle, "Yea, that's good." she said as she relaxed and turned to her make-up artist. "Job well done, now leave me be I need to prepare."

The older woman pressed her lips tightly together and huffed with a roll of her eyes before walking out the diva's dressing room. Stuck-up bitch...

Alice leaned back in her chair, thinking about the events going on outside before she reached for her scotch and downed it in one gulp. "Like some goddamn movie..." she said before getting up and changing her outfit.

A gentle knock and an equally gentle voice. "Miss Scholaighe? Ma'am?"

Alice closed the final buttons on her floral flowing pants. Caressing the white blouse, making sure it wasn't too see-through. A woman of her standards should dress appropriately. "Yes, Sarah. What is it?"

A brunette girl with rounded glasses entered the room with a clipboard in one hand and a cellphone in the other. "Mr. Carlson has arrived, the people are talking to him now about what we can and can't ask."

"Let me guess, nothing about his personal life or slip-ups? The disease is not a conspiracy. Make the future mayor look good and shiny!" she sighed as she turned to Sarah and held out her hand. "Boring..."

Sarah handed over the clipboard, scribbled some signatures here and there before practically tossing the thing back at the girl.

Sarah stared at her. Alice frowned before looking down at her blouse, "What?"

"Your boobs are showing..."

"It's called a cleavage, flat-chest." Alice rolled her eyes before smirking as she closed the distance between them, pushing a strand of brown hair out of the way, "Don't you like my boobies?"

Sarah licked her lips and readjusted her glasses before tucking the clipboard under her arm and closing a few extra buttons of Alice's blouse. "They're very nice, but now is not the time to be a slut. He's a politician and a sex scandal is the last these people need right now."

"Always the good girl, aren't you Sarah. Fine..."

Carter sat in the waiting area and idly flipped through the notes given to him by a member of his staff, some with little reminders that he'd added in for inflection, pauses, word choice. Carter had always been a deliberate speaker, not a passionate one. He balanced a friendly demeanor with an air of confidence, with just enough accent to sound home-grown, but no so much as to sound working class. It worked well in a state like Georgia, where looking the part of a good ol' boy was almost a liability, but not so much as looking like an outsider. Carter had the look for local power. He didn't look like one of them, but he didn't look like one of them.

He stood up in front of the mirror and gave himself a campaign smile. He was a bit behind the game, politically, but he had the ability to go far. Not "President Carlson" far, as few voters would consider his bearing "presidential." Oh well, maybe governor one day. In the meantime, mayor wouldn't be a bad gig. He wore a deep blue suit, which was about as much eccentricity as was allowed a prospective mayor, and a red tie.

He was still engaged in the combination of analyzing and admiring his appearance when someone knocked on the door. "Mr. Carlson, it's time." Carter nodded, though no one could see it, and deposited his note cards on the inside of his jacket before making his way to the set.

The stage was glamorous, trendy, and definitely had a feminine touch to it with a dash of southern hospitality to make any guest feel at home.

The stage was equipped with comfortable white couches that could hold several people. A large coffee table that won't sit in the way and yet the host and guests use it to place their drinks. There was a box of tissue for when the episode took an emotional turn.

Speaking of drinks, the stage even had a a fancy rack with alcoholic drinks or a few non-alcoholic of course. Those definitely help with loosening the tongues and making the guests feel even more comfortable.

Now the audience may not be as big as Oprah once had...or still has. But it was -her- audience and Alice Scholaighe felt worshiped whenever that spotlight hit her on the stage.

The audience seats were divided into two large groups with a path leading in the center, straight from exit to stage. Of course the guests would arrive through the side of the stage.

Alice Scholaighe was already seated on one of the couches, fiddling with the microphone attached to her white blouse while staff was making last minute adjustments. The show of course wasn't 'Live' so if there were any mistakes or things that needed to cut out then there was always the possibility.

"And we're on in 3, 2, 1..." the director motioned.

Right on cue the audience started to cheer and applaud while Alice stood up and played the part. Mouthing 'thank you's' and applauding along with the crowd before she tried to 'calm then down' again.

"Alright, today we have a very special guest. He is a man of the public and has worked hard to get to the top of Human Resources and is currently running for mayor. Please welcome, Carter Carlson!" she smiled brightly and watched at the handsome politician made his way to the stage.

After pleasantries were exchanged, introductions and what have you. Alice certainly had a drink in her hand already but now came the questions that the majority of people were wondering...

"Now, we've all heard about this year's flu and that this year it's a tougher strain and has already put quite a few people in the hospital. But there have been theories going about," she started as their conversation took a more serious tone now.

"Like for example, some people claim that the flu seems to affect the animals, and that it's not rabies that's making them sick and rabid but the flu itself. And that in turn makes one wonder if all that violence that we've been experiencing lately ma be somehow connected to all this? What do you think, Mr. Carlson?"

Carter had a small glass of Coke set up for him on the drink rack for when he came on the stage with just the faintest splash of Jack Daniels in it. It was just enough so that he could say it was weak without lying. It was a weak drink, ridiculously weak, but he knew that in claiming so the audience would imagine it stronger, allowing him to look a bit more a man's man while calling attention to his drink of Jack Daniels and Coke, the most Georgian drink there was. It was a contrived, manipulative act. It was why he was a politician.

He waited behind the curtain while Alice greeted the crowd and went through introductions. Once called, he stopped and quickly shook the hand of a campaign aid along the way so the crowd could see him flash a well-practiced warm smile and give a firm handshake. He then jogged up to the drink rack and grabbed the drink, raising it to the audience before taking a sip. As planned, he immediately grinned and shook his head in playful disapproval before grabbing the bottle of Jack Daniels and adding a very generous splash before taking another sip and loudly announcing "that's better!"

He hopped up onto the platform with simple grace, the drink not spilling. After giving Alice a hug and kiss on the cheek, he sat down on the couch and nodded thoughtfully as she began describing the situation, though he flinched back in apparent hurt at her opening question. "Wow, maybe you should have brought in the Department of Agriculture." He smiled and took a quick sip. "First off, I would agree that the animal cases that have been reported do not seem to be infected with rabies, and that is a VERY good thing. Various strains of the flu may have killed countless humans throughout history, but rabies currently has a 100% mortality rate on unvaccinated humans. I think our odds are a little better against the flu."

Building up some momentum now, he sat up straighter, no longer affecting the part of the off-guard victim for sympathy. "This is a very troubling disease, and made even worse by the possibility that it is home grown, which there isn't really any evidence of, by the way. After all, Savannah is still a major port city. I would want to remind everyone to keep in mind that every year there is a flu, and every few years some exotic disease gets national attention and a lot of people panic about it only to later realize a couple of years down the road that is wasn't nearly as significant as the media makes it out to be."

One member in the audience let out a soft scoff at the candidate's words, shaking his head slowly. Brendan Morales chuckled softly, hoping that the boom mics overhead wouldn't catch his voice. "'Very troubling.' Which means they have no damn clue what's gonna happen with this disease," he said, just barely above a whisper. His hazel eyes focused on the show host and her interviewee, the data analyst leaning forward in rapt attention, resting his elbows on his knees. "Wonder what else he's got to say about this epidemic."

Someone behind the heckler hissed in admonition, making Brendan roll his eyes. He adjusted his glasses, waiting for Alice's carefully worded response to the mayor hopeful's statement.