Box Office Bust Chapter 3
Steven T

 

The next day in class Mr. Branzel was meeting with every group, trying to get a feel for where they were going with the project. He seemed to like everyone’s ideas so far, but I was worried what he was going to say about what we had shot during “day one of filming”. He was going to see what we had done, say “Now what exactly is this about again?” and Sharon Dan and I would sit dumbfounded, because we didn’t have any idea what the heck the movie was supposed to be about. The four of us were seated around an Apple Macintosh whose tower base was covered in a greasy film, a green light in the center of the machine blinking contiouniously. Many of the keys on the keyboard were covered with dirt and some of them had a habit of sticking.
Ashley was babbling about how Dan and I had to come up with something satisfactory for our script or she was going to blame us for our movies inevitable failure. Sharon was trying to figure out a name for our movie.
“Listen to this one you guys. How’s this for a title: ‘Money Doesn’t Grow on Trees. Or Anywhere Else.’ “
“Well that finally answers the burning question Sharon”, I mumbled.
Mr. Branzel finally walked over to our group and asked if we had shot any of our movie yet.
“We sure did, and it’s called ‘Money doesn’t grow on trees. Or anywhere else.’ “, Sharon said excitedly.
Mr. Branzel groaned and sat down in a chair nearby.
“Alright well let’s see it”, he sighed.
Ashley pulled up the file and played the movie. During the movie Mr. Branzel did a lot of fidgeting in his chair and kept rolling his eyes. After it was over, he took off his glasses and cleaned them with his shirt. He sighed again and put them back on.
“Are you going to compliment our movie sir?” Ashley asked. He held up his hand, begging her not to replay the movie.
“Ashley since you’re the director it is your responsibility to make sure that everything goes smoothly and the movie meets the requirements. Now this movie is a little weird, but I think you know what you’re doing. You just have to keep your group focused. Good luck the rest of the way,” he got up and walked on to another group. Ashley just sat there and looked as though she had just read a rejection letter from Harvard. She stared blankly at the monitor then whirled around at Dan and me.
“There you see?” Ashley exclaimed. “There’s nothing wrong with our movie. He just said it was a little weird, and do you know why it’s weird?”
“Because your script is some sick demented fairy tale and you suck as a director?” Dan asked.
“No you idiot it’s because you and Andy haven’t added anything to my script, and I do not suck as a director. This movie is my vision and my creation. It will go down as one of the greatest films in cinematic history.”
“Oh please. Quit throwing the adjectives around. Steven Spielberg’s mom could out-direct you.”
“Even if she was lying in a hospital bed in a month old coma,” I added.
I think I saw Ashley physically shake with anger.
“We’ll see about that. All of you come out into the hallway with me. Now!” she ordered.
Ashley pushed the computer cart out into the hallway and positioned it so it was facing the far wall. She stood in front of the computer and surveyed our group, her armed folded in disgust. Her huge backside filled the camera lens.
“Where are your costumes? I thought I told you to bring them. Oh well never mind that. We’ll have to shoot today’s scene without them. Now we ended yesterday with Andy’s character sleeping under the shade of a tree on a hill. Now we don’t have a hill or a tree to work with so that brown metal pipe will have to do. That’s our tree,” she pointed at a pipe on the far wall.
“Now here’s what’s going to happen. Andy’s character is going to be awakened by Sharon’s character, Yeldex, who is going to invite Edward to have lunch with her. Edward accepts and over lunch he opens up and tells Yeldex about his unhappiness and then she will tell him about the magical sewing machine and how it brings happiness to everyone who inherits it. Now since I’m the only one in this group who’s ever prepared, I went out to the local craft store and bought props for the picnic scene.” She went back into the classroom and came out with a heavy looking, coffee stained backpack.
“Geez Ashley did you buy everything in the store or what?” I asked.
“No I didn’t. I only bought the necessary props. And I don’t want you or Daniel playing with them.”
“Now why would we do that? I call dibs on the glue gun!” I yelled.
“Ah man,” Dan said snapping his fingers.
I didn’t buy a glue gun! I couldn’t trust you guys with one of those.” She pulled a rolled up object out of her book bag and unwrapped it. It was a red and white checkered picnic blanket. She moved it next to the wall with the pipe and pulled out a picnic basket and assorted glass fruits: oranges, pears, pineapples, lemons, and even a kiwi. It was amazing. She placed the picnic basket at the blankets edge. She arranged the fruit in a circle around the blanket. She then took out a large ceramic jug that had black stripes running across it. Taking out a water bottle, she filled the jug to the brim with water and placed it next to the basket. Finally she pulled out a travel size sewing machine and placed it in the picnic basket.
“There!” she said, satisfied.
“Andy I want you to sit on the right side cross legged and Sharon you can sit on the left.”
Now I had never sat cross legged before in my life but I didn’t argue with her. I just wanted to get it over with. Ashley moved behind the camera and focused it on Sharon and I.
“Okay looking good you two. And act-“
“Hold on a second! This is the next scene!? A stupid picnic feast? You gotta be kidding me!” Dan yelled.
“You want me to add something to the script Ashley? Well how about this: After Edward spills his guts to the sewing lady they have hot steamy sex on the picnic blanket!” I cracked up. Sharon and Ashley stared at Dan, appalled.
“Daniel! There will be no nudity in this picture. This is not a movie about Edward trying to have mindless sex with a prostitute who poses as a seamstress during the day!” said Ashley.
“Hey it was just a suggestion. I’m sure Edward would be a very happy man if he had sex with Yeldex. I mean if that’s not true happiness I don’t know what is,” he said smiling.
“Dan this is a movie for first graders remember? They’re our target audience.” Sharon said.
“I know that but think about it. If we added in the nudity we could expand our target audience to horny teenagers and adults. The success of our movie depends on it!”
“You really are disgusting you know that? Try to control your sick mind Daniel.” Ashley said. Sharon nodded.
“Well if Andy’s character can’t have sex with Sharon’s character can mine? The big sexy gangster bad boy the ladies love to hate but can’t get enough of?”
“No! Neither Edward the Hobo or Gangster Ron are going to have sex with Yeldex! I’m not going to let you turn my masterpiece into a porno movie!” Ashley screamed.
“Man you wrote me out of all the good scenes. I guess I’ll just shut up and work the damn light switch again.” Dan muttered. Ashley said nothing. I could tell Dan was pushing her closer and closer to her breaking point. It seemed Dan was deliberately trying to tick her off in hopes that he would eventually get more say in what happened in the movie. So far he was doing pretty well at this.
“On second thought Andy and Sharon I can’t have you two sitting on the carpet because we ended the last scene with Edward sleeping on a hill, so Andy you go lie next to the pole here and Sharon don’t come into the picture until I motion for you. Dan you just work the light switch again and try to keep your mouth shut all right?” said Ashley.
She walked out from behind the camera and carefully moved the picnic blanket so it now lay in the middle of the hallway. Somehow she managed to do this without messing up her “beautiful arrangement” of glass fruits. I sat with my back up against the metal pipe. Sharon was standing next to Dan by the light switches. I had a feeling she wanted to slug him after his earlier comments but I couldn’t be sure. Ashley walked back behind the camera.
“Okay Andy, assume a sleeping position. Places everybody, Dan hit the lights. Action!”
I lay there pretending to be asleep until I was nudged by Sharon. I looked up and saw her long brown hair dangling down, nearly touching my face.
“What is your name? Are you looking for something my friend?” she asked.
“My name is Edward the Happy Hobo and I’m looking for happiness.” I said.
“Edward how can you call yourself happy when you are a filthy hobo who just admitted to me you’re searching for happiness?”
“Let’s not get technical lady. I just read the script,” I said. I glanced over at Ashley. No ad-libbing, she mouthed.
“What’s your name?” I asked Sharon.
“I am Yeldex, a mystical seamstress who sells a magical sewing machine.”
“A Magical sewing machine?”
“Yes Edward. A magical sewing machine that is more powerful than any sewing machine you ever used in home ec class. My sewing machine has the power to grant eternal happiness to anyone who buys it.”
“How much does it cost? Ya see I don’t have a lot of money because well--I’m a full time hobo.”
“Edward I’m glad you asked. You could pay up to as much as $299.99 for a magical sewing machine in stores, but thanks to this once in a lifetime magical sewing machine offer, you can get my magical sewing machine, three spools of thread, and eternal happiness, all for just two easy payments of $59.99!”
“That’s amazing!” I yelled.
“But wait there’s more Edward!”
“Really!? No way!”
“Yes there is. And I’ll tell you all about it over a free picnic lunch”
“Awesome. I haven’t eaten in weeks!” I yelled.
“Wait a minute Yeldex; are you just trying to tempt me with food so I’ll buy your stupid sewing machine? Because you’re going to have to do more than that to convince this customer.”
“Oh Edward by the time this is all over I’m sure you’ll be convinced that my magical sewing machine is the product for you. Now let me show you the picnic lunch I have prepared for the two of us,” Sharon said.
Sharon and I went over to the picnic blanket and sat cross legged, just as Ashley had instructed before. I looked down at the field of red and white checkers.
“This is a nice blanket. Did you make it yourself?” I asked. I picked up an orange, banana and apple and started to juggle them while I waited for Sharon to answer.
“Yes I did actually. I’d always wanted to be a seamstress growing up. I sewed quilts for my mother and even learned how to hem my own dresses. At the age of twelve I decided all I wanted to for the rest of my life was sew. Then I hit adolescence and reality hit me in the face. It turned out that despite what my mother had told me, seamstresses don’t make jack money wise, and on top of that I began to develop arthritis at twenty one from all those years hand sewing for my mother.”
“Boy I would hate to be you.” I said.
“Yeah I was pretty upset about the arthritis. I became severely depressed when people stopped coming by and asking people to sew things for them. I blamed my whole situation on my mother. I couldn’t take it any more. I wanted to die. Then one night after crying for hours, I looked at myself in the mirror for the first time in three years. I was amazed. Adolescence had treated me well, for I become a very good looking woman. I began to think, why am I wasting my life as a seamstress? I could develop and sell magical sewing machines and use my sex appeal as a selling point. I mean don’t you think I’m the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen Edward?”
“I don’t know if it’s fair to ask me a question like that. I hang out in the city slums so most of the women I see on a daily basis don’t have all their teeth. Or breasts.”
“Yes I forgot who I’m dealing with here,” Sharon said. “But I used to be like you Edward. I would hang out in the slums looking for potential customers to sell my sewing machine to. But no one was interested in me and what I had to offer.” Sharon crawled over to me and whispered into my ear:
“In fact you’re the first person to show an interest in me and my sewing machine in a long, long time,” The hairs on the back of my neck stood up.
“But I can’t possibly pay you for the sewing machine. I-I don’t have any money,” I stammered.
“I’m not interested in your money Edward. I’m interested in you,” Sharon whispered.
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t worry. I tell that to all the guys I pick up off the street. Just listen to what I’m telling you now. You and I could be very happy together. I could stuff you full of rum chocolates and whisper dirty suggestive things into your ear like this for the rest of your life.”
“Listen Yeldex I’m just interested in the magical sewing machine. I don’t know what the heck you’re trying to tell me by whispering in my ear.”
“Don’t play dumb with me Edward. You know darn well what I’m trying to get at. Now come on, how much money you got?”
“I don’t have any money! I’m a hobo! How many times do I have to tell you that!?”
“Never mind I’ll give it to you for free,” Sharon whispered.
“Give me what-exactly?” I asked. My heart was racing.
“The sewing machine you idiot! What the heck did you think I was talking about?” Sharon yelled. I stood up.
“Oh nothing Yeldex, just something I haven’t had in a long, long time,” I said laughing nervously.
“Here, just take the machine and be happy Edward. And don’t bother me again you bum!” Sharon yelled. She hurled the sewing machine at my head. Luckily I caught it.
“Oh thank you Yeldex! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” I took my prized sewing machine and ran out of the picture.
“Cut!” Ashley screamed.
Ashley walked onto the picnic blanket and glared down at Sharon, who was laughing so hard she couldn’t move. She just sat there defenseless as Ashley towered over her.
“You all think this is sooo funny. So damn funny to make fun of my movie and script. Hell you don’t even follow my script. You improvised that whole scene. You turned Yeldex the good hearted seamstress into a desperate hooker for crying out loud! I’m sick of all this crap you’ve put me through!” She turned and kicked one of the glass oranges. It flew through the air and shattered into a million pieces against the wall, missing Dan by inches.
“Whoa Ashley calm down!” he yelled.
“No!” she screamed. She hurled another fruit against the wall and kicked the picnic blanket itself. This caused all the fruits to become unstable and they shattered in a million pieces on the floor. She grabbed the jug of water and, walking over to her script, doused it in water. The script was ruined, its soggy pages now unreadable.
“What are you doing?” Dan shouted.
“Ruining the script. There never was one for this movie anyway,” she said.
“But now we’ll fail the project!” he protested.
“Oh like you ever cared about it to begin with. You made a joke of it from the very being, deliberately trying to bug me and provoke these too to goof off!”
“I have not!”
“Do you think I’m stupid? You’re the one who said, ‘Hey how about after Edward spills his guts to the sewing lady they have hot steamy sex on the picnic blanket!’ You’re the one who gave them the whole idea in the first place!” she yelled.
“Yeah but I didn’t think they were actually gonna do it. I never wanted them to use my idea. I feel ashamed for having said anything.”
“Oh you are so full of it. I saw you. You were panting like a dog the whole time it was going on.”
“But they have such great chemistry together, you can’t deny that. It was such an intimate moment.
“It was intimate all right. The only thing that was missing was some candles and sweat soaked bed sheets,” she snapped.
“Ashley!” Dan exclaimed.
“I quit. You guys can shoot the final scenes without me. I don’t care what grade you guys get now, but Ms. Song might give your movie a bad rating, in which case it wouldn’t even have a chance of being shown to her class.”
“Wait, Ms. Song is going to rate our movies?” I asked.
“Yes. The rating system is listed on the back of the project sheet, but I’m sure you didn’t read it did you?”
“Why didn’t you tell us about that?” I asked.
“I figured if you guys don’t care about the project why should I?” Ashley took off her glasses and wiped her forehead.
“Because we would have taken this more seriously if we had known about it,” Dan blurted.
“Well it’s too late now. I’m leaving.”
“What are you going to tell Mr. Branzel? That you quit on us?” I asked.
“I’m going to tell him you three tested my patience too often. One F isn’t going to hurt my GPA.”
She turned and walked down the hallway, presumably to here next class. We just watched her go, none of us saying a word. Small pieces of glass were everywhere and the picnic blanket lay rumpled up in the middle of the hallway, covered in scuff marks. The water jug lay on its side and water began to trickle down the hallway. Ashley had left a wave of destruction behind her. The janitor was going to have a field day cleaning it all up.
“Boy she sure knows how to throw a tantrum huh?” Dan remarked.

 

 

Copyright © 2004 Steven T
Published on the World Wide Web by "www.storymania.com"