by Smith, Skye
"No, leave it as a slasher film, but add in some scenes where Karen is trying to look and act like a teenager again. Umm, like, in that movie where the woman reporter goes back into high school to get a story. Don't you see? Not only does it make Karen's role look more believable, but it adds another dimension, and like, it will help Karen's career rather than hurting it."
"I like it," Karen said slowly, after a moment's thought. "I loved that role that Sandra played. I was too young for it when it was up for grabs. Besides, we all have points in this turkey. I would really prefer points in a movie that is shown on one of the cable channels every second weekend, for like, forever."
Maya stepped away from the door and approached the table. "And if you go that way, with the police woman being assigned to protect the girls, but having to live with their pettiness, then you can change the motivation to revenge. That will give the guy audience more to like about the movie than jiggle and wiggle. They love revenge movies."
"Like what?" asked the other writer, realizing that this girl was winning over the guys that signed his pay check.
"So like, umm, like, I know! My scene against the fence. Make that the last killing, not the first. Karen and I bond at the school, like maybe I show her the ropes. When I am killed, she like, just loses it and goes off all Rambo against the vampires."
"I like it," Karen said again. "We all know I look silly as a school girl. Let's get the audience on side with it so the silliness works for us, instead of against us. It would mean I wouldn't need a body double, so the filming and editing would be a lot less complicated. Mike, how much of it would we need to reshoot?"
"Hmm, depends on the rewrite, of course. We could probably do it without needing the locations again, or the hundred extras., The big change is in your character, so it would affect most of your studio stuff. That's no biggie. You're a pro. Some of the new footage would be with Maya, but mostly just you."
One of the executives brayed in with, "Mike, Karen's contract gives her the right of veto big changes in the script."
Karen leaned towards him. "No problem from my end. Give the crews the day off while I get together with the writers and copies of the two movies Maya mentioned." Karen looked over at Maya, who was backing slowly towards the door. "What about you, Maya?"
"Umm, I will need to borrow Wendy to drive me down to Blaine and pick up my work permit, and re-enter Canada. I mean, why risk problems from the immigration guys?"
Mike broke in. "Spend some time with the writers and Karen first, so they can pick your brain. I'll tell Wendy to book a limo and wait for you. And, ahh, Maya, thanks. Thanks a lot."
"Oh, you don't need to thank me. I did it for Karen. She is one of my idols, so I didn't want her to do a bad movie."
Karen motioned her to hang back while the room cleared. "Where did this all come from?"
"The other day, when we were practicing with my aura. It was the change in your face. When we started you had a careworn business face, but by the end it was the blushing, beaming face of you ten years ago. I just figured that together we could get the cameras to show that transition. That got me thinking of transitions and I thought of Sandra Bullock in that beauty pageant movie."
"Whoops," Karen stood. "The writers beckon. Come on, we'll have to discuss this in their lair. Pigsty is more like it."
* * *
* * *
The limo had done a big circle with them to pick up things from each of their houses. Wendy's for her passport. Maya's for her passport and some more conservative clothes. The ride to Blaine, across the border, was pretty fast because they missed any of the rush hours. On the way, she told Wendy about the script changes that were coming up.
"You know," Wendy fumed, "I had that same idea a month ago and everyone told me to keep it to myself or risk the wrath of Karen. Back then she was such a bitch, and if you giggled when you saw her dressed like a school girl you were marched off the set. If this goes down with some comic relief, you watch, we will be marched off for not giggling."
The lawyer's office was in a small commercial building near Blaine harbor. Maya immediately detested the short, fat, greasy-looking lawyer with the faint scent of toast. She was glad she had brought Wendy along to read all the papers she was signing. Finally, they were all read and signed and he handed each of them a check.
Maya looked at hers and sputtered. "Five thousand seven hundred and two? It's supposed to be ten thousand."
The lawyer looked at her through piggy eyelids. "Yes, it's all there in the invoice. Ten thousand less your agent's check," he pointed to Wendy, "less money withheld against taxes, less my fees and document and office fees. It's all there in black and white."
"I thought the movie company was paying you."
"They paid me for the contracts and money transfers and for funds in trust, but they cannot be expected to pay for your personal expenses."
"So, I have to pay you every time I get a check?"
"No, but every time there is a change to the contract or a new one. Based on the speed the company had this all put together, I would say you will have many new contracts." He oozed with charm.
"Who is that woman in the outer office?" Maya asked.
"That is a law graduate I just hired."
"Any good?"
"Smart, but the wrong sex. She won't go far. I expect she'll quit once she gets knocked up."
"I want her to deal with my account, not you." Maya stood and opened the office door and called to woman to come in. When she was inside, Maya introduced herself and Wendy and told her what she had just told the slimeball. "Will you do it? May I be your first client?"
The woman looked cautiously at her boss, he nodded. "I would be pleased to have you as a client."
* * *
The border was a bit of a farkle. The first officer they spoke to, while they were still in the car, sent them to the office building. There they were spoken to by a very nosy and bitchy young woman who seemed to looking for any excuse to not give her the pre-arranged work visa.
While the woman was off making photocopies, Wendy whispered into Maya's ear. "They deal with hookers pretending they are entertainers all the time. There must be a big convention or maybe a visiting US aircraft carrier scheduled soon. Don't take it personally."
When the woman officer came back, she asked Maya "So who is in this movie you are supposedly making?"
"Karen Marshall. It's a vampire movie. It's not going well so they need me for some scenes with her."
"You mean the TV Karen Marshall? Well, why didn't you say so?" Within five minutes they were back in the limo driving towards Vancouver.
Wendy was so nice to her, but then she was also making money from her. She helped her to open a US dollar savings account and a Canadian dollar checking account at the Canadian bank closest to the guys' house, and helped her to set up a bank card that she could use at the local bank machines.
They were just getting back into the limo in the bank parking lot, when Wendy got a call from Mike. When they were finished with the border, she was to deliver Maya back to the studio.
* * *
This time there was absolutely no trouble with the guard at the gate, he just waved the limo through. "You're wanted in makeup," said one of other 'school girl' extras who also worked on the set as a helper. One of the producers kept finding the girl odd jobs to keep her around for odd jobs.
Wendy led her to makeup and asked her, "Why are you here? They can't have worked out the new scenes this fast."
Karen was there, in a barber-style chair looking at herself in the mirrors. "What do you think? This is the cop me. Is that a go? Should I have them take the photos so they can recreate the look?"
"No like, no way," said Maya. "You still don't get it. Your vanity is in the way. I thought the plan was for you to go from hard-nosed cop to school girl, not from Baywatch cop to schoolgirl. You want extreme changes. That's where the comedy is. Like, I'm talking mustache and hairy pits. Pit bull butch cop, not Barb
ie policewoman."
Maya walked around Karen thinking. "Not only that, but one of big comedy scenes must be of the makeover." She looked at the makeup artist. She knew her job, but what would she look like on camera. Boring. "Okay, I've got it. How about ...."
Karen stopped her by holding up her hand. "Wendy, get the writers in here and tell them to bring pen and paper." Then she turned to Maya and said, "Hold that thought. Actually, the reason I asked for you was I wanted to do the 'after' makeup today as well. That means I need you to, you know, massage me."
The writers arrived, and Maya continued with her idea. "So, like, she needs someone in the makeover scene to be helping her. It's not believable that I am that person. What would a teenager know about makeovers. But what if I have a relative who can do it, and I call them in to help?"
"Yeah, we already figured that," said the lead writer. "One of our makeup team is being lined up."
"Nope, maybe I need to tell you more. I don't call my aunt," she nodded towards the makeup lady, " I call my uncle. Someone who looks like James Bond when he is a stockbroker by day, and like a flaming faggot when he does makeovers by night. Like, think of the camp comedy that will open up, and who better to do a makeover on a butch police woman, than a cross-dressing stockbroker?"
"Umm, one problem," the lead writer said. "We need this scene filmed right away. How long will the casting take, weeks?"
"Hand me your phone," Maya told him as she dumped her tiny purse out on a tray and picked through until she found the business card she was looking for. She punched in the number. "Hi, Gerry, is this the real Gerry or a machine?
Hi real Gerry, how would you feel about doing a James Bond cameo on this film I'm in?
Yeah. No kidding.
That's good. And then doing a speaking part as a flaming gay makeover artist turning Karen Marshall from a butch cop into a catholic school girl?"
She held the phone far away from her ear and the whole room heard the high pitched girly scream from the speaker. She handed the phone to Wendy and said, "Book him, Dano." Wendy took pen and paper from the writer and walked out of the room with the writer's phone.
"I know Gerry," said the makeup lady. She began to laugh. It started with a chuckle but then she opened her mouth and let it all out while trying to catch her breath. "Ohmigod, Gerry will be perfect. I get it now. There are three faces, not two. The butch cop who is trying to look like a man so she can do her job. Then she tries to do the makeover herself, so the second face is like a porn queen with the makeup of a whore. Oh Karen, you can have big fun with that. Then Gerry's camp comedy while he turns her from slut to a sweet innocent."
Karen put her hands over her mouth and laughed. "Yes, I can see it now. Oh boy, I get to do the bikini wax scene shtick. Oh, priceless." She looked at the writers. They were actually taking notes. "Guys, just outlines, scene, props and cast. We'll have to adlib the lines and the comedy when we have all the cast together. Now out. I have to clean myself up."
Once everyone was gone, Maya locked the door and came back to where Karen was having her face cleaned of the heavy makeup. While the makeup lady started putting things away for the day, Karen slipped out of most of her clothes and Maya bathed her in gentle waves of her aura. With each minute-long wave, a year was pushed out of Karen’s face. In ten minutes, ten years.
The makeup lady came to look to see what her pallet must be for the girly look. She actually whistled. "Lipstick and some eye liner. Nothing heavy. Like what I wish my daughter would restrict herself to. What about hair color? For the butch cop, I mean."
"Dark, to a bad bleach job with roots, to this," said Karen. Her mind was exploding with ideas for the transitions. "Hey, it’s getting late. Any supper plans Maya?"
"I'm making supper for my two men."
"You live with guys? Oh yeah, that would explain all the unused exercise equipment and all the computer gear."
"I've told you before. I live with two engineers. Nice guys. Want to come for supper and meet them?"
"You're not making anything fattening are you?"
"I was going to pick up dolmades, a Greek salad, and some rotisserie chicken at the supermarket. Oh, and I have to get more Prosecco. The guys like Retsina, but it reminds me too much of pine-scented cleaner."
"That'll work, sure. Thanks." Karen stretched. She felt delicious despite having had such a full day.
"Do you want to meet Gerry, the guy that screamed over the phone?"
"That was a guy? Sure. Then I will know better what I have to work with."
Maya held her hand out for Karen's phone, and called Gerry again. "Hi Gerry, Maya again. Yes, that was for real.
Yeah, Wendy is real nice, so don't you go corrupting her.
Um, did you want to come to supper tonight.
No, I'm cooking, sort of.
Don't be like that, I'll tell Erik.
No, you don't have to bring anything. Oh wait, you have to bring James Bond.
Yes.
No.
Because my other guest wants to meet James Bond.
I'm not telling, you'll find out when you get there.
No.
Okay, I'll tell if you bring a bottle of Retsina.
Neither do I, it's like pine scented cleaner.
Bye. Oh sorry, Karen Marshall." She held the phone away from her ear so she wouldn't be deafened by the girly scream.
"Okay, we are set." she said to Karen. "Good, then this means I can carry all the stuff home from the supermarket in your limo. It's a bitch to carry bottles of things on my bicycle."
"Right, but first I need to get some things from my dressing room, and to change, and check my messages."
* * *
* * *
Karen looked across the table at James Bond. Maya hadn't been exaggerating. He was dishy and sophisticated. The two engineers were nothing to sneeze at, either. Erik could have been in movies. She had dressed well, since after all, she was meeting James Bond. It meant that Erik, Karl and Maya had also dressed like they were at the Casino in Monte Carlo.
She was trying not to pig her salad, but she really wanted to take Gerry aside and start working on some banter. Her mind had been creating it at about a hundred miles an hour from the moment Gerry had flipped from Bond mode into flame mode. This was going to be so good. The others, however, were eating like polite Canadians. Slowly, one mouthful at a time, and emptying their mouths before speaking. What a pain. It's a wonder they got anything done in this country.
"I tried to play a word game with some Poli Sci students the other day," Maya announced.
Erik glanced up from his plate. "Where did you find Poli Sci students to play with?"
She gave him a withering glance. "At the bus stop, duh. Not everyone can afford wheels in this part of town, and hardly any of the students." He had the grace to look abashed. She went on.
"Anyhow, the game was that you were a UN judge, and like, you could put one person in jail immediately, anyone in the world. Who would you choose, you know, like to make the most difference to the future of the world."
"George Bush," Erik said immediately.
"But he's American," said Maya, "We're the good guys. The game is to jail someone evil. I mean, not that I like young George, but he did take all those nuclear missiles away from that Sadam guy, and he did kill all those turban guys in Afghanistan. Wait, maybe it wasn't Afghanistan. That's where Rambo was helping the turban guys to shoot down the bad guys who were killing all the peasants using helicopters."
"Give me a break," Erik started, but Karl put a hand softly on his and interrupted him.
"You wouldn't choose George Bush," said Karl, "He is already history. He can never run again. Besides, he has already given the planet back to the oil companies. You would want to choose someone evil who was just coming to power."
"Osama bin Laden," said Karen. "If they got rid of him, then they could stop all this stupid security at the airports. God, that's a pain."
"I'm afraid the security
is there to stay," said Karl, "no matter what. It's big business and the money all goes to the pockets of the right companies."
"Isabella Wright," said Gerry in a falsetto. "Absolutely. She's the one."
"I've never heard of her," said Karl.
"Oh my dear," replied Gerry, "she is the designer who is behind the new wave of grunge that the kids are all wearing. I wouldn't just jail her, I would smother her in her own grunge."
"See," Maya said. "It's tough. I told the Poli Sci guys that it would be much easier if it was like, for times in history. Like then you could say Hitler, or the other guy from Russia that helped him. Um, Stalinsky or something."
"Just what are they teaching the children of America?" laughed Erik, helplessly.
"Actually, you wouldn't choose Hitler, you would choose Mussolini. He was the most influential political thinker of modern times. Everyone read his books and copied his ideas. Hitler, Franco, Stalin, Churchill, Roosevelt.. They all used some of his ideas to gain power and to stay in power."
"This is a dumb game," said Karen, "I'd rather be over in the corner with Mr. Bond here."
"Oh darling Moneypenny, what do you have in mind?" Gerry bonded it up. "I'm not that kind of boy."
"Not Moneypenny, just money," Karen laughed.
"Ooooh, I AM that kind of boy. Lead on."
The game was over too soon. Her little charade to pick people's brains had not worked. She wondered who Mrs. Li would have chosen. She looked at her two guys. "Well, you guys figure out some good answers, so I can play the game with the Poli Sci guys if I meet them again."
* * *
Later that night in bed, she was curled into Karl to get warm, while they were waiting for Erik to come to bed. He was always last to bed. He liked to have the last turn in his bathroom so he could tidy it after everyone else was finished.
"That silly little game of yours, isn't so silly." Karl whispered into her hair as he stroked it. "I can't get it out of my head. I don't think the Poli Sci guys were playing a game as much as describing a conundrum."
"Yeah, whatever." she whispered back and kissed his neck. Karl did go on and on with the big words. Blah,blah,blah.
