Tuesday, May 7, 2013


Director: Okay, Ms. Pertman.  In this scene, Bennie the Pimp is going to lose control of himself.  He's high on his own supply and hallucinating, you see, and he thinks that you're a knife-wielding monkey that wants to cut out his lungs.  So his state of mind is self-defense.  So as he's flailing around, he's gonna rip your blouse off, at which point the audience will be exposed to exactly four boob-seconds--

Natalia Pertman: Zero boob-seconds.

Director: Right.  That's what I meant to say.  I meant to say that this scene is not where he rips your blouse off while hallucinating that you're a knife-wielding monkey, such that viewers will not get to see your glorious ta tas bouncing around gloriously during the struggle.

Pertman: Right.

Director: So then, you won't be naked, so then I guess we'll just do away with this sex scene that never happened.

Pertman: Right.

Director: The sex scene where you don't do film's first upside-down lapdance from a handstand.  An Oscar-worthy scene, containing 25.4 ass-seconds.

Pertman: Right.

Director: A lapdance that, upon completion, leads you to give special guest star Snoop Doggy Dogg himself, rap star and reggae star, a blowjob.  In the flesh.  In a dream.

Pertman: Are you fucking kidding me?

Director [shouting over his shoulder toward his assistants]: Tell Snoop Doggy Dogg the blowjob is out!

Assistant [yelling from a distance]: No blowjob for Snoop!  [Pause.]  Snoop wants to know--what about tomorrow?

Director [looking at Pertman inquisitively]: Uh, Snoop Doggy Dogg--

Pertman: I heard.  Not available.  Ever.

Director: Of course . . .  Would  a handjob be met with the same answer?

Pertman: Same fucking answer.

Director [yelling over his shoulder again]: Tell Snoop that Plan B is out!

Assistant [yelling from a distance]: Got it!  No finger magic for Snoop!

Director [yelling]: Tell Snoop maybe tomorrow!

Pertman: I quit.

Director [yelling]: Tell Snoop it'll never happen!

Assistant [yelling from distance]: Check!  No blowjobs for Snoop!  No handjobs for Snoop! 

Director [yelling]: Oh yeah!  Tell the body oil crew that their services are no longer necessary!

Assistant: Got it!  No need to oil Ms. Pertman's glorious breasts today!

Director: Correct!  We don't need her tits to be supply and shiny!  Fire the body oil crew!

Assistant: They're fired!  They're unemployed!  They've been stripped of their badges and are being escorted out of the hotel as we speak!

Director: When Las Vegas wonders why its unemployment rate rose two percent, tell them to contact Ms. Pertman's reps!

Assistant [mournful]: The body oil crew had children.

Assistant #2 [approaching Director with first assistant]: Those children started starving five seconds ago.

Assistant #1: Dying boys and girls just because Natalia Perman refused to give Snoop Dogg a little blowie.

Assistant #2: Or a handie.

Assistant #1: Not to mention the upside-down lapdance.

Assistant #2: I can visualize it perfectly.

Assistant #1: Natalia won't do a handstand, kids.  Say hello to food stamps.

Assistant #2: Government cheese is tasty.

Assistant #1: Is Ms. Pertman aware that the blowjob would've happened as part of a dream sequence?

Assistant #2: It would have been a dream blowjob.  Not even a real blowjob.  In a sense.

Assistant #1: Dream cock.  Not a real cock.

Assistant #2: Not even her real mouth.

Assistant #1: Dream mouth.

Assistant #2: Nothing real about it.  

Assistant #1: Except the paycheck.

Assistant #2: Of course.  

Assistant #1: The paycheck is always real.

Pertman: I quit.

Assistant #1: Forget everything we said.

Assistant #2: Apologies.  We didn't know you were eavesdropping.

Assistant #1: We were joking.  Poorly.

Director [Suddenly]: Enough of the chatter.  We're ready . . .  Annnnnnd action!

Upon hearing that magical word, Natalia Pertman snapped into character, all annoyances forgotten.  Suddenly, she was that naive, blackjack-addicted, broke hooker, and she was running down the hotel hallway, trying to get as far as possible from her demented, monkey-envisioning pimp.  She was a consummate pro.  

The cameraman followed her with a handheld as she ran down the hallway of the thirty-second floor, glancing over her shoulder at her unseen pursuer.  Her eyes darted with growing desperation at each hotel room door that she passed.  She tried a knob, then another.  No luck.  Lurching across to another door, she tried a third.  To her amazement, it opened.  She slipped inside.

Into complete darkness.  Curtains drawn.  She urged herself to step forward.  Heard the door softly shut behind her.  She took another step.  Another.  A half-dozen steps later, she suddenly felt the cool of metal on her forehead.  

"Huh?" she said.  

She heard the clang of a metal door shutting behind her.

Seconds later, the lights came on, brightness stabbing her eyes.  When her vision adjusted, she saw that she was alone in the room, except for a teenage boy sitting on the bed across from her.  No cameraman, no director, no assistants.  She was staring at him through bars of a cage in which she was trapped. 

"I know you," she said.  

"I'm Quincy Capers," he responded.  

"What the fuck is going on here?" she demanded.

He shrugged.  "I kidnapped you."

She rattled the cage door.  "Let me out of here."

He looked confused.  "Do you know how hard it was for me to get you in there?"

She glowered.  "Wait a second.  You're bankrolling my movie.  You gave me a brick of cash for lunch the other day."

"Yeah.  The movie's over now."

Seeing a stool behind her, she sat.  "When I call the cops, you're going to jail for a long, long time."

"No phone," Quincy said.

"I'll scream," she countered.

"I rented every room on the floor.  I spent last night screaming my head off.  Nobody complained.  Nobody knocked on the door."

She sighed.

"We planned it pretty good," Quincy said.

She sat quietly, wondering.  Finally, she said, "You mean that you started a movie production company, bought a script, rented every room on the floor of this hotel, built a cage, and set up a scene where I would unwittingly walk into this cage--all because you wanted to kidnap me?"

Hesitantly, Quincy nodded.

Natalia unexpectedly beamed.  "That's so romantic!"

Smiling, Quincy approached the cage.  He had a plate in his hand.  On the plate was a single apple slice, a baby carrot, and two cashew nuts.

"Hungry?" he asked, offering it.  


  1. I've been waiting for this instalment and you delivered it perfectly

  2. Assistant #2 [approaching Director with first assistant]: Those children started starving five seconds ago.

    This just makes my heart smile

  3. grrouchie beat me to it.

    Line of the day:

    Assistant #2 [approaching Director with first assistant]: Those children started starving five seconds ago.