[qzar9999]

And the second part:

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ONE WEEK AT WOLF LAKE
DAY ONE: BLUE MONDAY
CONTAMINATION: 15%

As the host prepared his announcement, the audience held its breath in rapt anticipation. Grinning, he opened the envelope and held the card in front of him.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of the million-dollar grand prize is...” He paused just a bit too long, in that irksome manner of hosts across the universe. “Carla Cole! Carla, come on up here and claim your prize!”

...beep...beep...beep...

An amazed and ecstatic Carla rose from her seat, for a moment too shocked to walk toward the stage. She recovered quickly, and, smiling from ear to ear, she proceeded through the cheering throng.

...beep...beep...beep...

Stepping up onto the stage, she grasped the microphone, still too stunned to speak. A stagehand moved toward her quickly, carrying one of those huge prop checks bearing her name and “ONE MILLION DOLLARS” in letters large enough to read from space.

...beep...beep...beep...

“I...wow. I just don't know what to say. I never dreamed that--”

...beep...beep...beep...

“I'm sorry, can anyone else hear that? It's kind of annoying, and--”

...beebeebeebeebeebeebeebeebeebeebeebee--

The irritating trilling of the alarm clock was abruptly cut off as she violently slammed the snooze button. Carla hated Mondays, which caused her bad habit of sleeping too late, which meant she was always in a rush Monday mornings, which contributed to her hatred of them. She was aware this was a self-sustaining problem, but that wasn't enough motivation to get out of bed and face the day any earlier. Twenty minutes and two snoozes later, she finally dragged herself out of bed and shuffled to the kitchen, her mind on her agenda while her hands made coffee on autopilot. Tonight was the monthly meeting of CHC, so she had to make sure she had the minutes from the last meeting together, as well as having a progress report and a topic list ready for this meeting. The usual queue of weekend injuries and illnesses would be piled up all day long in Dr. Matthews' office, so she wouldn't have time to go over them at work. That meant she was going to have to spend her lunch break, and probably what little free time she'd have this evening, making sure everything was in order.

She reflected, not for the first time, that being the secretary of Citizens for a Healthier Community could be a real pain. Of course, she did a better job of it than anyone else in the group likely would have, and if she hadn't volunteered for it, Vanessa probably would've “nominated” her. At least it was for a good cause, she told herself. Who knew what kind of toxic junk that chemical plant was producing? Somebody had to be a local watchdog; the EPA certainly wasn't doing enough. If the group had their way, of course, Talbot-Lucian would be forced to shut its doors and move somewhere else. Somewhere it wouldn't be so much of a local health concern. The Gobi Desert, for instance, or the dark side of the moon. For now, though, all they could do was protest, watch the company like a hawk, and hope. They encouraged everyone to buy bottled water, or at least purify their household water before drinking it. Not that many people in Wolf Lake took the advice, though. Carla knew she was one of the only residents who had a thorough (and expensive) whole-house filtration system, and she was the only person she'd seen around here bringing bottled water to a restaurant. Even Vanessa only filtered her drinking water instead of her entire home.

Grumbling to herself about the day ahead, she sat down at her table with the notebook she used for CHC meetings. A normal person would be reading the newspaper right now...