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Mar 25, 2003 Transcontinental Talent (TCT) is a global talent agency founded by Lou Pearlman, the man who claims to have discovered the Backstreet Boys, N’Sync and Brittany Spears. TCT is also the employer of the legions of hopelessly annoying solicitors that may very well have approached you on the streets of Boston, New York or Providence in attempt to get you to fulfill your dream of being a boyband frontman and join the TCT team. If you have ever fallen for this load of bull than you will know full well the story I’m about to tell. If not, sit back, relax and read my shocking expose on TCT. About six or seventh months ago I was walking to my car after work. Three mildly attractive females approached me and asked me if I had ever modeled before. Now, because I am quite good looking, I did not think that this was strange at all. I replied that I had been in a few commercial a couple of years back but I hadn’t done anything recently. They seized the opportunity and began flattering me even further, telling me how I should have gone further with the commercials blah, blah, blah. It was like I was dealing with a bunch of Fem- Bots programmed by Dr. Evil to seduce me into his deadly lair. Well, it worked. The Fem-Bots told me about TCT’s recruiting session that night and invited me to attend. I told them I’d think about it. Apparently stunned by my hesitation, the Fem-Bots seemed confused on how to proceed. It was almost as if their program only contained answers such as “see you there,” or “we’ll look forward to seeing you.” There didn’t seem to be a boilerplate response to, “I’ll think about it.” Nevertheless, after apparently getting a directive from the mothership, the head Fem-Bot gave me a card with the TCT logo and address on it. The threesome then moved on to some other sap who simply wanted to walk from point A to point B without being bothered. After consulting with several friends at work who had also received the “great honor” of being selected by TCT, I realized that this was probably going to be one of these things where they tell you how much potential you have as a famous airhead and how they can bring that potential out for only “ALL YOUR MONEY!” Nevertheless, I figured I’d check it out. The worst that could happen is that I would have one hell of a story. Thus, after work I headed down to the TCT lair for an experience that I would not soon forget. Upon entering the TCT building, which was more like a refurbished warehouse, I heard the sweet Beethoven-like sounds of the latest Electronica/Techno/House/Crap hits blasting from a really fancy Brookstone CD player in the middle of the giant building. I approached what looked like the waiting area to be greeted by the very same Fem-Bots that had given me the invite. I tried to rekindle our earlier conversation, but apparently their master had erased all traces of their dim personality since we last met. Rather than talk to me, they made me fill out your typical “Deal with the Devil” contract. Once finished with all the paperwork, a girl named Yvonne led me into the “inner area.” Once in the “inner area” the music changed into a kind of Yanni-Cher-Slayer type melody. To put it lightly, things were getting very strange. Yvonne led me down a hallway that looked a bit like the corridor where Han and Luke rescue Princess Leia in Star Wars. We turn into one room and there was this Danny Banaduce look- alike waiting for me. I immediately went to shake his hand but he did not respond in kind. Rather, he looked at me in horror. It was as if I should never invade his personal hand space without first demonstrating that I had thoroughly scrubbed with Bath and Body Works Country Apple anti-bacterial soap. He said nothing to me other than, “stand in front of that wall.” After I followed his instructions, he snapped a picture of me and instructed me to follow Yvonne back into the “presentation room.” In the “presentation” room there were three other people sitting next to each other facing a large television that had several brochures on the table where the TV was placed. Oddly enough, there were well over fifty seats to choose from. Being a bit anti-social, I picked an empty seat in the back that was about three rows away from anyone else. Danny somehow saw this and came running into the room to tell me that I had to sit in the seat next to where the last arriving person sat. Huh? Okay, whatever. Before I actually sat down I walked up to the TV and took some of the brochures to read while waiting. Danny looked at me, left the room and came back with this 6 foot 5 inch SS-type brute who clearly was the “muscle” behind this operation. The SS officer came up to me and told me to put the brochures back where I found them and sit down. At this point, I was really ticked off. Here I was spending precious time at this freak show getting told what to do by a member of the Partidge Family and his Gestapo henchman. For some reason I stayed. That worried me. I looked around at the bright fluorescent lighting, I listened to the devil music and I began to suspect that maybe we were either going to be brainwashed or summarily executed. Fortunately, the entertainment was about to show up in the form of a young rebel with a bandana who had clearly taken seven to eight bong hits before showing up for his evaluation. He starts yelling this and that, complaining about the strange treatment that we were all getting. Finally, despite being told not to, this firebrand put his bandana back on. Danny and SS-man rushed into the “presentation room” and ordered bandana boy to leave the premises immediately. That is exactly what they said. “Leave the premises immediately.” Clearly there was no messing around at TCT. After having our minds slowly erased and reprogrammed in the TCT way, Danny returned to the “presentation” room to a sellout crowd of seventeen gullible idiots such as myself. I wasn’t sure what he was going to do but I was pretty sure he was either going to gas us or actually give a damned presentation. Fortunately, it was the latter. Danny showed us this incredibly cheesy video detailing how this fat toad Lou Pearlman had exploited teenagers all over the globe in an effort to make himself richer than any pedophile could ever dream. The video did leave out the fact that both the Backstreet Boys and N’Sync sued Lou for withheld royalties, breach of contract and numerous other legal infractions. But hey, that’s not really important for our future as entertainers with no clear indication of talent. Once the video concluded, however, I found myself actually thinking that maybe this was a good idea. I mean, it would only cost me seven hundred dollars if I was accepted (for seven hundred dollars a person I’m pretty sure TCT would have to accept Quasimodo). Feeling that they clearly had us in their grasp, several of the Fem-Bots brought us into the “evaluation” room. In these rooms there was one SS-guard and one advanced model Fem-Bot to tell us that we have been evaluated and we must answer our phone at a certain time to find out if we have been accepted into the TCT family. Danny then escorted me to the door and told me that he looked forward to working with me. He raised his hand high, but oddly did not waive. It was more like a Nazi salute. It was pretty damned scary. It seemed like forever until I got through the traffic and returned home. Fortunately, that gave me time to erase the effects of the brainwash and realize that not only was this whole “I pay you so I can make money,” idea a total load of garbage, but that there might be something more at stake here. This is when I began to compare TCT to Nazi Germany. It all made sense. There were strong armed muscle men in the mold of Henirich Himmler’s SS stormtroopers, there was Danny, an ugly little guy who mastered the company propaganda as well as Joseph Goebbels had fifty years earlier, and there were the Fem-Bots, who resembled no group from Nazi Germany but nevertheless, were eerily unemotional and seemingly programmed by a higher source. It was almost as if Adolph Hitler were ever to return to the land of the living from his current location in the fiery pits of hell, the mustached dictator would feel perfectly at home at TCT, which, I concluded, was really just a secret cover for the rise of the Fourth Reich. This time, however, instead of wreaking havoc on Europe, it would beout to destroy the savings accounts of young urban students. Fortunately I came to this realization before the Fourth Reich recruiters called me for my former evaluation/indoctrination in Nazi modeling. I avoided all my calls for the night and assumed that I would never hear from them again. That was until last week when I saw several of the Fem-Bots walking with Danny, SS- man and my friend Mike. Mike? Yes, Mike. Apparently he is now part of the team. I stopped to talk to him for a minute, but once Danny got wind of the conversation he came over and told me that I made a big mistake not answering the phone the night the evaluator’s called. Danny then looked over to Mike, who realized that he could no longer associate with non-Fourth Reich folks like me. Mike told me that I had made a big error in judgment and he turned and left with the others without anything more than a short salute. Let this be a warning to all of you who may come into contact with the TCT/Fourth Reich talent agency. They will infiltrate your mind and tear out your soul. And it will cost you money. Beware of this group when you pass them on the street. They will try to bring you into the “presentation” room and you may not be as strong as me. You may be like Mike, who was horribly brainwashed into spending seven hundred dollars to become a member of TCT, also known as the Hitler Youth Modeling Agency. Read more from Ian Prior or email: ian_prior@hotmail.com . ------------ Comment on this column in the forum. ------------ |
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