Chapter 83: Hypnotizing the Potatoes

‘Quiz For You’ was a variety show that became beloved by the public in its early days, with the national MC Min Jae-seok wandering the streets alongside the comedian Yoo Se-ho, giving quizzes to ordinary people and handing out prizes.

Kids leaving elementary school, office workers sipping coffee during lunch, hairdressers rolling curlers into the neighborhood elders’ hair, job seekers coming out after interviews at companies—people from all walks of life.

The show listened to the lives of ordinary citizens and handed out small but meaningful gifts (or cash), managing to capture both friendliness and humor at the same time.

Of course, it was thanks to the skilled hosting of Min Jae-seok, the national MC, and his sharp ability to highlight the unique personalities of everyday people.

On top of that, Yoo Se-ho’s slightly scatterbrained character added a spicy kick with his daringly borderline questions.

Why did such a humble program become the country’s top talk show, coveted even by famous celebrities? As everyone knows, it was all because of the aftermath of COVID-19.

The pandemic that swept the globe led to new social rules like social distancing and bans on gatherings of five or more.

Chatting on the streets, spraying droplets everywhere with strangers, became even more strictly taboo.

Inevitably, ‘Quiz For You’ had no choice but to switch to a studio format.

‘These lights are insanely hot.’

The ‘Quiz For You’ studio, located on the third floor of NBN Broadcasting Station, was set up in a corner of the station’s café.

To create a friendly atmosphere, the set was arranged so that loyal viewers, when visiting for a studio tour, could sit in Min Jae-seok’s chair, Yoo Se-ho’s chair, or the guest’s seat, feeling the energy of the shoot—thoughtful gestures from the production team.

But now that I was sitting in the real studio, I couldn’t contain my nerves.

Even though Seo Ji-won had prepared me thoroughly in advance.

‘It’s a whole different dimension being part of the scene instead of just watching among the staff.’

Even with only three participants, there were over a dozen cameras.

And the lights and boom mics pointed at me were even more overwhelming than the cameras.

That’s not all. The gazes of dozens of crew members felt more oppressive than I’d imagined.

I thought to myself that I’d simply never experienced things like panic attacks or stage fright because I’d never had to face them.

It was the first time I could faintly understand the feelings of those who see psychiatrists or take medication for such issues.

‘Potato. Just imagine they’re all potatoes.’

Feeling the cold sweat running down my back, I quickly tried to hypnotize myself.

I remembered the potatoes I’d often dug up as a child, when I visited my grandmother’s house in Sangju.

When you pulled the stem, round, dirt-stained potatoes would come out in clusters.

If you tapped the black earth off with gloved hands, pale, smooth potatoes would reveal themselves.

Big and small potatoes clustered together before my eyes.

It was almost as if they were steaming hot, freshly boiled.

“Writer Lee Jung-hyuk?”

“Ah. Yes?”

I looked at the potato in glasses staring at me.

Compared to how he appeared on screen, the potato’s face was much smaller in real life as he asked me a question.

“Could you share an episode from your days before you were known? Viewers often don’t know much about the world of drama writers, and even less about assistant writers.”

So far, these were questions that had been on the pre-received questionnaire.

It was also mentioned during the pre-show meeting and phone call with the ‘Quiz For You’ writer.

“Is it really like in dramas, with the main writer bullying assistants and such?”

Min Jae-seok added a question that wasn’t in the script.

Probably to make things more interesting, he spontaneously added a more specific question, and I hesitated for a moment as the conversation veered off in an unexpected direction.

Now, he stopped looking like a potato and started looking like Min Jae-seok.

“Uh. Well, that does happen sometimes. But I was lucky. I worked as an assistant under a writer with great character.”

“Oh, I see. Then, did you have any trouble writing your first work?”

“No. Not really. I was lucky enough to meet my ex-wife. Of course, we’re divorced now, but back then it was like fate. It’s really tough for a drama writer to make their debut.”

“Ah.”

The potato sitting next to me—no, now clearly Yoo Se-ho—asked,

“Oh, so you must still get along with your ex-wife? Since you talk about her so casually.”

“No. We don’t get along at all.”

“Ah.”

I started erecting walls that not even the national MC Min Jae-seok or comedian Yoo Se-ho could break through.

Of course, it wasn’t intentional.

I just didn’t want to show them my back, drenched in sweat.

“I heard you started a company with several writers. Now that you’re not working alone and writing with others, what are the pros and cons?”

But Min Jae-seok didn’t get flustered and continued smoothly to the next question.

Probably timing the edit point, he paused for a beat before shifting topics.

With this program, which seemed unwilling to let me go, I had no choice but to bring out my secret weapon.

The second one.

I had no choice but to push the ‘Lucky Man’ concept.

“Well. There are many advantages, but the biggest is probably that I was lucky enough to meet good writers. Lim Sung-hee, Jung Tae-mi, Pyeong Taek-soo…”

I meant to call out each of their names, but I couldn’t remember the names of the newly joined writers, so I trailed off awkwardly.

“Thanks to the help of many writers, I’m running  smoothly.”

“Oh. Does the ‘God’ in ‘God Media’ mean the same as ‘g.o.d’? Like the band?”

“Ah, Yoo Se-ho. It’s not the band, it means ‘god’. You were trying to make a joke just now, right?”

“What? No, no. I’m serious. When you’re tired and worn out~ Lean on me~ That g.o.d!”

“Time out, time out. Yoo Se-ho, your stale jokes are killing the flow. We have to cut here.”

“Aw, hyung-nim, how can you call that stale? I’m a record-holder on .”

“Yeah. I’ve had to listen to that PD complain many times—said he can’t figure out the public’s taste.”

“W-who said that? PD Jo?”

“Ahahaha.”

Min Jae-seok and Yoo Se-ho’s trademark banter continued.

I knew it was a staged act, but with their wit and expressive faces, even the staff burst out laughing at the quick skit.

But I couldn’t laugh. Obviously.

I couldn’t even properly hear what they were saying.

***

Throughout the shoot, Min Jae-seok watched Writer Lee Jung-hyuk, who kept a faint smile and answered honestly, with great interest.

“Writer Lee, you answer: is the ‘God’ in God Media from ‘g.o.d’, or does it mean ‘god’?”

“The latter is correct.”

“Told you!”

“Oh man. I thought you named it after the band because you were a huge fan. So, is your religion…?”

“Come on, Yoo Se-ho, that’s a bit much.”

“Rather than a religion, well, maybe it is one. It’s a god only I can see. A god that rolled into my life when I was at rock bottom. I was lucky.”

Even with the sudden, unscripted question, Lee Jung-hyuk answered smoothly, unflustered.

And there was a subtle sense of consistency running through his words.

As Min Jae-seok tried to pinpoint what that was and ask another question,

“We’ll take a short break!”

“Alright, let’s do that.”

The main PD called for a short break to change the camera batteries.

“Writer Lee, you said this is your first time on TV, but you don’t seem nervous at all.”

As Min Jae-seok’s stylist tidied up his hair, he spoke casually to Lee Jung-hyuk, who had just come back from the bathroom.

“Oh, is that so? Maybe it’s because I started off with a good show. And with two such great MCs. I was lucky. Haha.”

Only then did Min Jae-seok catch on to Lee Jung-hyuk’s speaking style.

That recurring phrase: ‘I met good people,’ always followed by, ‘I was lucky.’

Lee Jung-hyuk’s manner of speech was bound to come across positively to the public.

“In-tae, hand me my phone.”

Min Jae-seok, who never looked at his phone while on set, asked his manager for it, then replayed the video he’d seen before the Lee Jung-hyuk interview.

It was a lecture from Seoul Arts University’s playwriting department, which had become a meme online.

Even there, Lee Jung-hyuk spoke about achieving many things thanks to his luck.

He couldn’t understand why the ‘Quiz For You’ writers hadn’t picked up on this character.

If it was a speech pattern, they should’ve caught it even in the pre-interview.

After asking Lee Jung-hyuk’s permission, Min Jae-seok called over the main PD and head writer and discussed the matter.

The PD and writer quickly grasped Min Jae-seok’s point after watching the VCR.

The three hurriedly decided to change the final segment and returned to their places.

“Writer, if you’re okay with it, we’d like to try a little game.”

“Oh, the one where you answer the quiz and win a prize?”

“Yes, but we want to put a twist on it—make it the ‘writer version’.”

“My version?”

“You often say you’re ‘lucky’ when you speak. Did you know that?”

“Ah.”

Lee Jung-hyuk was overjoyed inside, realizing his concept had finally landed.

As expected of Min Jae-seok.

To be honest, he should have leaned into this persona from the pre-show interview, but back then he was too relaxed and just answered plainly, thinking, ‘Isn’t this enough?’

Now, finally, the gap between the real Lee Jung-hyuk and the on-air Lee Jung-hyuk began to close, and he started to feel at ease.

“With that concept, let’s see just how lucky ‘Lucky Man Lee Jung-hyuk’ really is! Let’s play a game.”

Then, two male staffers brought out a large spinning wheel.

On the wheel were various prizes, such as fish-shaped slippers, a chicken hat, cookie-shaped cushion, chicken gloves—odd items that he’d never even heard of, nor wanted to.

“Here, you can see the various prizes. Normally, you’d answer a quiz and draw for a prize, but since you say you’re lucky, Writer Lee, we’ll have you throw three darts. If you land on the same prize three times in a row, you win it!”

“Wow. Isn’t that an insanely low probability? Let’s see, one, two, three, four…”

“Eighty. There are 80 segments. Were you about to count them all?”

“No, but if there are 80, and I have to hit the same one three times… Eight times three… That’s a one-in-240 chance, right?”

“Come on, don’t act so smart. Just think of it as a crazy long shot. Alright, Lucky Man Lee Jung-hyuk! Would you like to throw? Quiz For You~?”

Looking at Min Jae-seok, who smiled as he handed him the darts, Lee Jung-hyuk felt doomed.

Ah. So this is what it’s like to get burned by your own act.

Lee Jung-hyuk picked up the darts, feeling like he had no choice.

‘Yeah. Broadcasting people are all the same.’

He cursed them in his mind, wanting only to get this over with and go home.

If the talk show was a mess, the PDs could fix it in editing.

If it was boring, was that his fault? No, it was theirs! Muttering to himself, he threw the dart hard at the spinning wheel.

“Wow, is that five don of pure gold? According to the PD, that’s the most expensive prize.”

“Writer, you really are lucky. Even if you lost the quiz, you’d take home five don of pure gold.”

“Alright, let’s not stop now. Second try! Can Lucky Man Lee Jung-hyuk really win the gold?”

Drumroll.

Huh? Why is this happening?

The second dart also landed on ‘five don of pure gold’, and against everyone’s ‘No way’, ‘C’mon,’ and ‘Impossible’, the third dart landed on the same prize.

“Wow! Incredible!”

“Writer Lee, you really are the Lucky Man!”

“Dear viewers, this is NOT rigged. Look, see for yourselves.”

No matter how many times Yoo Se-ho threw, he only landed on fish slippers, chicken hats, cookie cushions, chicken gloves—all the weird prizes, and failed every time.

Lee Jung-hyuk took the slip labeled ‘five don of pure gold’ from Min Jae-seok and smiled brightly for the camera.

None of the staff had expected Lee Jung-hyuk to win that.

It was a last-minute addition for fun, and they hadn’t even prepared any gold.

In this unbelievable, ridiculous, but hilarious situation, the grinning PD scribbled ‘FIVE DON OF PURE GOLD!’ on a sketchbook and held it up, improvising.

Of course, among everyone in the studio, the person most stunned by this turn of events was Lee Jung-hyuk himself.

‘Why is this actually happening…?’

With that question lingering, the shoot ended on a high note.

“Good job, everyone. Ah, Writer Min-jung, get home safe. Yes, you too, PD Myung-jin. Okay, I’m heading out as well~”

After personally saying goodbye to every staffer, writer, and PD, Min Jae-seok got into his manager’s Carnival van and turned his phone back on.

“Oh, PD Koo. I’m done with the ‘Quiz For You’ shoot, so call me now. What’s up?”

There were messages from all over, but he took the call from PD Koo at the very top.

Koo PD was the producer in charge of , a show that had been number one in ratings for seven years on another channel.

“Yeah. I heard it’s been hard to book idols lately.”

Koo PD apologized, saying it was really difficult to get idols for the shoot the week after next, and asked if Min Jae-seok could call the agency as a favor.

Min Jae-seok reassured him, saying not to worry.

They both knew that, no matter how famous the PD, it was easier for a celebrity to make the call.

“By the way, about the next project—what do you think of a writer special?”

-A writer special?

“Yeah. I shot today with Writer Lee Jung-hyuk from  and  on ‘Quiz For You.’ He’s got a really great character.”

-Really? Drama writers aren’t usually like that. They have strong personalities.

“Exactly. But he’s not an in-your-face, funny type. He’s got a subtle charm. I think it’d be great to build a show around him. The audience would be hooked.”

-If it’s your recommendation, hyung-nim, I trust you. I’ll talk it over with the head writer.

“Alright. Talk soon.”

After hanging up, Min Jae-seok sent a text to Lee Jung-hyuk using the number he’d gotten from his manager.

Usually, after a shoot, he sent a standard thank you message, but this time it carried more sincerity.

-Writer, this is Min Jae-seok. I really enjoyed today’s shoot. Not only did you graciously accept my impromptu game suggestion, but you also gave us a scene that’s sure to bring record ratings. I hope we can get together for a meal next time. See you again.

But—

Lee Jung-hyuk, completely exhausted, returned home without even checking the message.

He tossed off his clothes, flopped down onto the sofa, squeezed his eyes shut, and made a vow.

‘I will never, ever, as long as I live, appear on a broadcast again.’

Contrary to Min Jae-seok’s hopes, just hearing the word ‘broadcast’ in the future would make Lee Jung-hyuk run for the hills.