Page 4 of Fake It 'Til You Sleigh It

In. Every. Single. Movie.

Ugh.

Four nonstop holiday headaches later, here we are at movie number five,Shamrock Shenanigans.

In two weeks, our latest Christmas movie,Fa La La Love,will premiere. When the studio credits me for their fourth blockbuster success, they’ll be begging me to direct five more. And when they do, I have a plan.

Lay down the law.

Regain my holiday cheer.

Unfuck my directing career—with three simple words.

NO. MORE. ETHAN.

I’ll find a better star, one who actually listens, so my life won’t be a living hell. Imagine… a male lead who takes direction and doesn’t use his “method acting” as an excuse for disruptive flirty shenanigans.

I take a deep breath, channeling my inner badass, and march into the executives’ office. This won’t be fun because my bosses—who combined are at least 483 years old—have all the holiday cheer of two constipated elves. Why they are makinglighthearted romance movies is beyond me… They never smile, and I doubt either has experienced an orgasm since moving pictures were invented.

“Hello, Ms. Riley, Mr. Wiley,” I chirp through a smile so fake you’d think I’d had Botox.

Their shared office is a morgue. Both in looks and temperature. I hide my shiver, not knowing if it’s the frigid air or their icy stares. No decorations, no warmth. I wouldn’t be surprised if the coffee machine dispenses embalming fluid.

Remember that scene inA Muppet Christmas Carolwhere Scrooge is hunched over his desk, counting his coins? That’s who I answer to. They conduct two types of meetings. The first is about saving time and money. The second is… who am I kidding? It’s the same meeting every time.

Miserly Wiley doesn’t crack a smile. “Ms. Pemberton, you requested a budget increase for the parade scene. It’s been denied.”

See, told ya.

“Hear me out,” I plead. “That parade pulls the whole story together. It’s the big romantic scene that fans will rave about.”

Wiley’s face remains as frozen as a snowman’s balls. “The budget calls for one pickup truck and four extras.”

“I acknowledge, and I appreciate, budget constraints,” I say, straining a smile. I’m not,notvisualizing Wiley being run over by a parade float right now.

“But it’s supposed to resemble the Chicago Saint Patrick’s Day Parade. If you allocate just a few more resources, I can stack the extra people and a second truck and shoot it from different low angles to make it work.”

“Denied,” Wiley repeats, crushing my dreams like a Grinch stomping on a Who’s Christmas present.

Scrooge Riley sets her steely gaze on me. “That’s not all. We called you in here because—until further notice—the movieyou’re filming is suspended. We need you to shift your one hundred percent focus on promoting your Christmas movie,Fa La La Love, which releases in thirteen days.”

“Promotion? But that’s not my job. What do you want me to do? Film some TikTok challenges?”

“No. The shareholders are breathing down our necks. They have no interest in the existing audience; they’re worried about our stalled-out subscriber accounts. Your last two movies did not bring in new fans.Wecommitted, which meansyoucommitted, to deliver a million new paid subscribers by Christmas Eve.”

ONE MILLION?!I hide mywhatever-the-opposite-of-an-Oface is.

“I understand attracting new viewers, but let’s be real. My movies have made you guys so much money.”

“And the shareholders appreciate it,” Wiley says, with Riley adding, “Which is why you’re still employed.”

How is this my problem?Where's the marketing goon squad and their social media interns? So now I’m supposed to write, direct, and go door-to-door selling my movies? What’s next—dress up as Mrs. Claus and hand out flyers at the mall?

I swallow the negativity, absorbing it deep in my gut, and ask, “What kind of promotional activities?”

“You get todirecta marketing campaign,” Wiley retorts.

I wince at his ignorant use of the worddirect.

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