Clark, left: “Okay, are you ready to do this scene?”
Jean, right: “I think so. But can I say that you really look a lot hotter here than you will in that Gone with the Wind mess you’ll make in a few years?”
Clark: “Of course you can say that. I love myself. Why would I not want to hear about my hotness?”
Jean: “I love myself, too! Isn’t it swell?”
Clark: “It’s the greatest. I’m my own best friend.”
Jean: “Well, peroxide is my best friend. But my ego is right behind it.”
Victor Fleming: “Okay, folks. We’re trying to shoot a love scene here, not a session with your therapist. We get it. You both make Narcissus look like an amateur. Now, can we have a little whoopee?”
Clark: “Is somebody else talking? I thought it was only you and I on the call list for today.”
Jean, sighing: “It’s that wretched man standing over there. The one with the megaphone and the attitude. I don’t know why he keeps showing up all the time.”
Victor: “I keep showing up because I’m the director on this movie.”
Clark: “The director? What the hell is that?”
Jean: “I’m not sure. I see that word a lot in the credits for my movies, but it’s in the boring part where you’re just wanting the words to quit showing up so you can watch the damn movie.”
Victor: “You can’t make a picture without a director. I’m the one that tells everyone what to do so we have a decent film and not a home movie.”
Clark: “I think he’s lying.”
Jean: “Of course he is. Everyone knows that the stars make the movie. People don’t buy tickets to a movie because of the director. That absurdity won’t happen until the French get all snooty about movie-making and start calling directors ‘auteurs’ and calling actors ‘cattle’.”
Clark: “God, the French. They are so annoying. I’m about to make a movie with someone called Claudette Colby Cheese. I’m sure she’ll be insufferable. It Happened with Spite will probably be the worst movie, ever.”
Victor: “Actually, it will be Alfred Hitchcock who will say that actors are cattle. And right now, I fully understand that point of view.”
Clark: “Alfred who?”
Jean: “He’s lying again. It’s the fake media!”
Clark: “We don’t have to listen to him.”
Jean: “I never have.”
Louis B. Mayer, head of MGM, the production company trying to make this movie, suddenly stormed on the set in a fit of colic rage, which is how he approached life in general.
Clark: “Louis, my man! How’s it going, buddy?”
Jean: “Don’t you look sharp today!”
Louis: “Oh, knock it off with the ass-kissing. Here’s the deal. We’re behind schedule, over budget, and I have an ulcer that is preventing me from swilling the Scotch that I so desperately wish was in my blood system right now. You are going to listen to this man over there… what’s his name?… Victor something. You are going to listen to Victor and do everything he says or I am going to make it my life goal to cast you in Shirley Temple movies for the rest of your lives. Got it?”
Clark: “Couldn’t be more clear.”
Jean: “You look sharp today!”
Louis then turned and stomped off the sound stage, firing everyone he encountered on the way back to his office, including several people who didn’t even work for the studio and a child starlet then known as Frances Ethel Gumm. Frances paused for a moment of reflection after this unexpected outburst, and she decided that perhaps it was time she changed her name to something more soothing to people with ulcers and unfocused anger.
Victor: “Well, then. Do we understand the situation now?”
Clark: “Apparently we don’t have a choice in the matter.”
Jean: “Whatever Big Daddy wants, Big Daddy gets.”
Victor: “Good. Now, let’s start the scene over. This is still a pre-code movie, so we can get away with racy. And… action!”
Clark: “My neon-headed lover, I want to spin you round, right round, like a gramophone, baby.”
Jean: “Is that a script I feel in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”
Previously published, slight changes made. No offense intended toward the Colby Cheese family or French people in general. That mess is on the characters, not me… 😉
Categories: Humor
Bonnywood Manor 
I often think what my life needs is a good director, but with my luck I’d get Ed Wood.
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My full life story would/could probably be taken care of by Will ‘One Shot’ Beaudine. Or credited to Alan Smithee.
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Not my movie. Nope. Not me.
😉
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River: I hear ya. But I’ll up you one and say that my life would be directed by Ed Wood on a day that he was extremely drunk and wearing an angora sweater…
Obb: You get triple extra credit for your comment, hitting a trifecta of trivia notes with Beaudine, Smithee and Clark’s notoriously skanky false teeth…
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Jean must’ve been a real trouper, seeing handsome Clark had a dashing smile and a heavy dose of halitosis. Talk about an actress facing adversity.
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Okay, I apparently overshot myself (please excuse any unwanted visual images those words might trigger) by referencing THIS comment in my response to your first comment to River. But you still get the Trifecta Award. Use said honor wisely in order to achieve some degree of financial gain. Or at least use it to get a free pint at the local pub, The Wafting Outrage…
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Whoa-! wait- what? free beer…!? And there has to be a pub that needs a name change, and the Wafting Outrage makes a surreal change from the White Hart or the Red Lion.
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Did you see her nails? Holy crap. Is it just me or are they sharper than what’s considered normal. If I were Clark, I would be worried about those running through my hair. Then again, nothing about Jean appears normal.
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Yep, I actually did get a gander at those potentially-deadly and possibly-reptilian nails, but not until two seconds after I had mildly updated the story and sent it into the ether. My observational skills are just not as… sharp… as they used to be…
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Don’t we all occasionally deny that our lives are being led not by us; rather by the “director”?
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There’s some truth to that. But the variance lies in who you might think that director is… 😉
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neon-headed lover…creates a fascinating image 🤓☺️smiles hedy
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I actually had a fling with a neon-headed lover, once. It was not quite what I expected it to be, and there was a considerable amount of regret afterwards… 🙂
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Their love for themselves oozes all over the screen.
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In Cinerama! Oh wait, that came later. But still, oozing! 😉
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I saw your disclaimer, but I still have to say that choisir le français est tellement de classe inférieure. But then again, we invented picking. 😉
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Fair enough, I hit below the belt. (And history will show that I’m a repeat offender of such. I have issues. Can we blame it on my childhood and call it done?) But I put that disclaimer in just for you, if that helps at all. It probably doesn’t, and I shall now go sit in a corner and think about my misdeeds…
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Thank you. I feel special. 😉
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Clark and Jean. Sigh. Heart throbs 100%
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Yeppers, they were definitely swoon-worthy… 😉
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Frances Ethel is a favorite… Meet Me In St Louis songs are sung at the Casa Regularly😉
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Yep, Frances is effortlessly entertaining. But you know, I just realized I haven’t had a good ole songfest here at Bonnywood in a while. I need to rectify that. (And it will annoy Partner. Double win!)
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Wonderful
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Thank you!
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