[ WP ] You are unknowingly a main character on a very popular show , but the person playing you has changed mid-season .

I ’ ve always thought my life felt like a really bad made-for-TV action movie. 
 
 All across the desert, dozens of wannabe racers flanked us on either side. Most of the contestants -- us included -- used SpeedyHover racers, but I also saw a lot of SmashBusters and Explode-O-Matics. The sound of engines being punished flooded the air as everyone revved their rigs in a pointless, if not loud, show of bravado. 
 
 Green light. Her SpeedyHover 4 / Rally Certified ( SH4RC, or “ shark ” if you want to sound “ cool ” ) was slightly faster than my SH3, but I was able to keep up. For some, these rallies meant going out in a blaze of glory and taking as many competitors as possible with you. For us, it meant winning. We NEEDED that grand prize. 
 
 Our plan was to dart around the violence and rocket so far ahead that by the time anyone noticed we weren ’ t dead yet, we ’ d be too far along to catch up. 
 
 Green light. We ’ re off. Seconds after we started, a well-armored car to our right exploded in a massive fireball of twisted shrapnel -- much of which landed directly in our path. Swerve. Dodge. Parry. We made it. Our cars got a little banged up, but we were putting some good distance between us and the calamity behind us. Sometimes, when things went to plan, it felt like we had our own team of writers scripting our lives. 
 
 It didn ’ t take long before we saw them. Three heavily-armored vehicles had broken away from the melee and were desperately trying to catch up. Being so focused on our approaching threats, I didn ’ t notice the rock directly in front of us. Both of us hit it. Both of us stalled. Both of us tried to start our engines. I succeeded. She did not. 
 
 We had to finish this together. I couldn ’ t just leave her there, so I did the unthinkable. I uncoupled my protective gear, stepped out into the open, attached the jumper cable to the batteries, and used the power from my car to start hers. Her shark roared to life. Another ten seconds to toss the cables, jump back in, and punch it, and we were on our way. 
 
 Time literally froze. Not figuratively; we simply stopped. No inertia, no dust, no wind -- just stopped. 
 
 This was all wrong. Three well-dressed men appeared out of nowhere. Two were holding briefcases. What the hell were they doing out here? HOW could they be out here? Am I having a stroke? 
 
 “ Sorry guy, ” they said. “ I know this is going to be weird, but you ’ re getting a midseason change. ” 
 
 I don ’ t understand. What were they talking about? 
 
 “ Look, you ’ re just not doing it anymore. It isn ’ t working with the younger demographic. Frankly, you ’ re just not believable after that little stunt you pulled. Your ratings have, if we ’ re going to be technical here, tanked. ” 
 
 I was now more confused than ever. I looked to her for help but she was as frozen as the dust clouds behind my tires. I tried to scream as I felt myself being ripped from reality. I felt nothing, no sensation at all, but I could see myself floating up above -- like I was being pulled up into the sky. 
 
 “ Christ Ed, ” said one of the men. “ What did I say? ” 
 
 “ Yeah, I know, ” said one of the other men. “ I thought it would work. ” 
 
 “ You ’ re an idiot, ” said the third man. “ It ’ s going to take us at least another season to recover from your little stunt. ” 
 
 The second man looked down at the ground as a new person started to materialize in my car. Just before they faded completely from my view, I heard him say it: 
 
 “ We should never have had him jump the SH4RC. ”
