I'll never forget the day my body from college Mark Wainer gave me a call.

Mark had been out in Hollywood directing for the last few years and was well on his way to making a name for himself after successfully executing several reality TV shows,

all of which did exceptionally well.

At the time, I was down on my luck.

My girlfriend of four years, Tracy, had broken up with me. I was living in an apartment I could barely afford and working at a failing ride chair startup.

When Mark called, it felt like a hand was reaching down and saving me from my terrible existence,

rescuing me from my sweltering studio apartments with no AC, my joke boss with bad breath and a greasy comb over and even my friends

who had come to resent over the years with their silicon wives and Adderall filled children.

He was working on a new show which he pitched as a survival show similar to

alone but extreme. He went on to tell me that they would drop five participants

off the coast of Maine on a series of

abandoned islands. The islands will be strung up with video equipment designed to

catch the survivalists every move. What made this show different was that there would be no emergency extractions, no

checkings, no medical examinations. Mark and his team would come out once a month to see if

anyone was ready to tap. But besides that, the participants

were completely on their own. The last person standing would win $1 million.

I fully expect someone to die, said Mark with glee over the phone.

It'll make great television.

Where did I come in?

Mark said he would pay me almost double what I was making at the moment to be his assistant

on set. In reality, I think he felt sorry for me and he wanted someone who he could hang

out with for possibly six months.

...