And You Get a Bra!

Ah, the heady days of chat show television; Jerry Springer, Ricky Lake, Montel Williams and, perhaps even Trisha Goddard, to name but a few. The chat show was, at its peak, a formidable network-padding format that manifested itself onto almost every televesion channel out there; regurgitating everything from autobiography-peddling A-listers to everyday folks, who somehow felt that airing their issues infront of not only a live studio audience, but also the camera, was somehow the best option. One thing was for sure - there never seemed to be a shortage of guests.

One could argue, however, that many of these shows simply exploited the people that they were promising to help in exchange for viewing figures. Some may call it 'Car Crash TV' or liken it to a modern day 'Circus Freak Show', where the weird and the wonderful (and often vulnerable) are brought out onto stage to be gawped at by an expectant public.

It isn't always easy to know which way to turn in life, especially in times of desperation, and as Taylor was a fan of the Judy Jendell show herself, she finally convinced herself to give the on-screen helpline number a call during an episode. She explained her situation to the assistant producer, and before she knew it, she had been booked onto an upcoming show - apparently, she was just what the production team were looking for.

Taylor's breasts had been developing at an alarming rate for almost six-months at this point, and day-to-day life was not only a struggle, but steadily becoming an impossibilty, as her petite frame became gradually over-burdened by her ballooning bustline. She had buried her head in the sand for as long as she could, but with no sign of her excessive development stopping, she began to panic about her future, and didn't know where, or who, to turn to. Surely the Judy Jendell could help, right?

Although she considered herself to be reasonably confident, Taylor still found herself starting to tremble as she stood on the wings of the Judy Jendell studio set, waiting to be called on. She clutched her old C-cup bra tightly - a prop she'd been asked to bring with her. The producers had persuaded Taylor to go on stage topless, to, you know, really show people her condition, and swept up in the moment she had agreed, despite the fact that for the past few months she had done nothing but try and hide her oversized bosoms and had tried her best to leave her home as little as possible. It was too late, however. As Judy Jendell finished speaking, the infill music began to play and applause grew to an almost uncomfortable level. The stage hand patted her on the shoulder, pushing slightly, and wished her good luck.

You can imagine for yourself the sound of the audience gasping in unison, as Taylor laboriously waddled her way onto the stage to meet Judy. The network pixelated a good proportion of her breasts in the broadcast footage, of course, but the live studio audience must have had quite the eye full! Judy remained professional throughout the interview, and when she prompted Taylor to lift her poor old 32C-cup bra in the air, once more the audience gasped in echoing ripples of shock. There was more applause, more gasps, more stunned silence - it was like watching a Circus Master working the ring - so well orchestrated that it seeemed almost effortless. And then it was over.

Ushered back to the green room, Taylor was still trembling. She could hear Judy's voice distantly in the background, as she welcomed on her next guests - a married couple on the verge of divorce over the husbands obsession with freestyle street juggling. Taylor made a mental note to watch that episode when it aired. Even so, as she sat down in the green room, trying to get her breath back from her exhausting walk, she couldn't help feeling a little used and abused. There had been no miracle cure. In fact, she still wasn't sure exactly what form of help Judy's team were supposed to be giving her now that she was off of the stage. Assistance had been mentioned multiple times during her appearance, but it wasn't actually clear quite what it would be.

Almost two weeks had passed since the recording, and Taylor sat sulkily, as best as she could, infront of the television - her now even larger breasts swamping her lap. As Judy Jendell wrapped up an interview with a woman desperate for help with her addiction of eating her cats hairballs, and the advert break began, Taylor reached to the end table beside the couch and began to open some mail. An envelope from the television studios revealed, finally, her appearence fee - a modest cheque for $850 - and a piece of notepaper with a telephone number scrawled onto it, and the advice to 'give them a ring as they might be able to do something'. So much for all of the help that they'd promised, then.

Luckily, when she rang the phone number, it belonged to the admissions office of the the BrasByDesign Research and Testing Facility* - information that, frustratingly, she could have found out for free, without the spectacle of bearing her breasts on national television. Still, with an appointment booked at the Facility tomorrow, Taylor began to relax just a little, and she reflected that her experience had been somewhat liberating, if nothing else. She had, however, always imagined that if she did go topless on television, she would have earned a fair bit more than $850 bucks...

*You can read more about BrasByDesign Lore in BrasByDesign - Lore, The Universe and (Almost) Everything!