Past Imperfect

Past Imperfect – #197

Director: “I’m sorry, what are you trying to accomplish with that pose?”

Actress: “I’m showing the inner torment of my character.”

Director: “When did your character become a pouty mermaid? We don’t even have any water in this film.”

Actress: “Isn’t that a picture of the Titanic behind me?”

Director: “Um, no, that’s a graphic image of a rock formation in the Grand Canyon. Because this movie is about migrant workers in Arizona. Where they don’t have a lot of water. Or mermaids. Did you even read the script?”

Actress: “I find that reading scripts is beneath me.”

Director: “How about finding your way to the exit door? Because if that’s beneath you, I have people who can carry you there.”

Actress: “I get the impression that you might feel slightly hesitant about giving me this role.”

Director: “And that’s the first thing you’ve gotten right in this entire audition. Luck of the draw, I suppose.”

Actress: “And I suppose I could read something from the script. Do you have a copy handy? I used mine to keep my bathroom door open. Old house and all, and the foundation needs some work. Like me.”

Director: “It’s really sweet how you keep trying to gain my favor. But no. This interview has already lasted far too long and there’s a bottle of gin in my office that hasn’t been touched in at least two hours.”

Actress, sighing: “Very well. I guess I can look on the bright side. This gives me time to change outfits for my next audition.”

Director: “Oh? Are you trying out for a part in another movie? Because you do understand that there isn’t one for you in this movie, right?”

Actress: “I think that’s clear now. No, this audition is on the next soundstage over, where people don’t get quite as fussy about the script.”

Director: “But that’s… that’s where John Chevy shoots his blue movies. Those low-budget things with little plot and lots of unexplained nudity.”

Actress: “Yes, I know what they are. I was featured in 24 of them last month.”

Director: “Twenty… how on earth did you get involved in such things? And where do you find the energy?”

Actress: “Well, my foundation wasn’t going to fix itself, so I had to do something. Of course, the pay isn’t all that hot, which is why you have to be in so many of them. This week alone I’m up for parts in It Happened All Night, Gunga Din-Din, The Grapes of Rhett and The Philadelphia Whorey.”

Director: “I don’t even know what to say at this point. Wait, yes I do. So this means you might be willing to take a small role in my own movie that involves a brief bit of artistic nudity? There’s a critical scene where one migrant worker performs a traditional ceremony from her home country, wherein she lifts her bared breasts to the heavens in order to bless the crops.”

Actress: “Oh, I just did that very thing in The Slut Also Rises.”

Director: “Perfect! I’ll talk to the producer and see what we can do.”

Actress, smiling: “That sounds splendid! By the way, I actually know the producer. He’s a fan of 23 of those 24 movies I made last month. He didn’t care for Balls of Fire, what with that startling campfire scene.  But he’s already assured me that the role of Vesuvia the Breast-Barer in your movie is mine. All of this was a formality to maintain the sham that you have creative control on this production. Now do you understand why I don’t bother to read scripts?”

Director: “Once again, I don’t know what to say.”

Actress: “You don’t have to say anything. But get over here and help me off this floor. I’m a little sore after shooting a scene in The Great Gaspy.”

 

Previously published in “Crusty Pie” (short bit) and “Bonnywood Manor” (longer bit). Slight changes made for this post. Based on the comments from the last posting, some of you will be inspired to contribute your own tawdry takes on titles and I fully encourage that. Nothing like a badinage of bawdy banter to flesh out your afternoon, right? Right.

 

21 replies »

  1. Okay here’s a few that came to my slightly dirty mind (it’s SUNDAY. Sunday, in these here parts is for holy thoughts of Jesus and praying and doing a lot of stuff that marks one as pious. Allegedly).
    The Postman Comes Twice and Refuses to Clean the Stoop
    The Unbearable Stenchiness of Sweaty People
    The Rocky Horny Picture Show….

    Okay I’m stopping. I think I’ve offended the other allegedly pious near by my domicile. Not that they’ve been invited in. I like spending Sundays as God intended in the first place. TMI? Try being my neighbor!

    Liked by 2 people

    • The “Postman” wins, although all three were clever. And I don’t think you should give a hoot about the domicile-adjacent pious. I’m sure they’ve done far worse in their lives. I know I have… 😉

      Like

  2. No, no, no. She’s just trying to do what her horse’s ass of a director wants her to do – look like a mysterious alien who will shortly encounter the lusty Captain Crunch, er, Kirk. Doesn’t that explain a lot about the Trump marriage? 😉

    And, somehow this post didn’t show up in my reader, although your other posts are. I took a look for it.

    Liked by 1 person

    • You have definitely given me new fodder for the Trump marriage. My mind is already percolating and the ensuing brew may prove black, indeed…

      Thanks for the headsup on the “reader” angle. I thought something was off, based on the negligible stats for this post. I actually scheduled this one, which I rarely do unless I’m on vacation. Perhaps something is up with the functionality. Which wouldn’t surprise me, WordPress has a tendency to muck with things when they shouldn’t…

      Liked by 1 person

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