Page 82 of All That Glitters
Percy swallowed hard. “She, uh… she said she’s following up on a tip. She wants to know if there’s any truth to the rumors… of a sex tape.” Percy’s voice dropped to a barely audible whisper. “…involving mannequins… and… and farm animals?”
Preston didn’t hesitate. He picked up the half-full crystal decanter of bourbon from his desk and hurled it at Percy with a guttural roar.
“GET OUT!”
Percy shrieked, ducking back out into the hallway just as the decanter shattered against the doorframe, spraying expensive liquor and shards of crystal across the carpet.
From the hallway, Percy’s muffled, terrified voice could be heard. “So… should I tell her you’ll call her back?”
The only answer from inside the office was the sound of something else, possibly a Golden Globe, being thrown against the wall.
Night had fallen over the cemetery as the crew prepared for their last scene. This was it, the ‘martini shot,’ and the excitement on set was palpable. Around them, the air was cool and thick with the smell of damp earth and diesel fumes from the ‘fog machine.’
“Alright, everyone. Get in yer places,” Craig bellowed from his director’s chair. “We’s ready to shoot our last scene! Let’s make some magic!”
Everyone hurried into position. Roy lined up the shot while Carl revved the truck’s engine, coughing a plume of exhaust over the set. Carrie and the three nerds positioned themselves near the marble angel statue, the same one Carl and Roy had so artfully glued back together, its head still on backwards. Steve stepped in front of them and held up the slate.
“Roll sound. Scene ninety, take one.”
CLACK!
“Action!” Craig yelled.
Carrie and the trio of nerd vampire hunters crept past the disfigured angel statue, the boys sweeping their potato cannon vampire-weapons-of-death like soldiers on patrol. Suddenly, without warning, all three nerds fell into an open grave, completely disappearing from sight.
POP! POP! POP!
The potato cannons misfired on impact, shooting stakes from the grave into the air in haphazard directions.
As if on cue, a vampire jumped out from behind the angel statue. It was Todd, wearing a cheap Count Dracula costume and plastic fangs, but everyone pretended it was terrifying. Carrie took a quick glance back at the grave, where the nerds were struggling to climb out without much success, then spun back to vampire-Todd and improvised. She dove onto him, tackling him onto the grass, and jabbed her prop stake into his chest.
“OW!” Todd yelped, a bit too convincingly.
Carrie climbed to her feet, not realizing the prop stake might have been more stake than ‘prop.’
“Did you get him?” came one of the nerd’s muffled voices from the grave.
“We got him,” she said.
“YAY!” came a muffled chorus from the grave.
“And... CUT!” Craig shouted, rising from his director’s chair. “That there’s a wrap, folks! We got us a movie!”
The entire set erupted in cheers. Everyone jumped to their feet, hugging and high-fiving — everyone except for Todd. He took a bit longer climbing to his feet, the stake sticking straight out of his chest like a cartoon arrow.
Todd grabbed the stake and tried tugging it out, but it wasn’t budging.
“Dang,” he muttered to himself, staring in disbelief at the stake. “How’m I s’pose to explain this to the wife?”
Meanwhile, beneath some trees at the edge of the set, dirt flew from a hole as Elvis burrowed deep into the ground with the singular focus only a dog can possess. Roy wandered over, curious.
“Whatcha doin’ there, boy?”
Elvis looked up at him, his tail wagging, then went right back to digging with renewed vigor.
Back on set, the gang was still celebrating. Craig spotted Tony heading his way.
“Looks like we got us a picture,” Craig said, beaming with pride. They grabbed each other in a hug. “Don’t it seem like just yesterday we’s in the jail listenin’ to yer story.”
