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Post By Dancer; HH just found this in his inbox and couldn't sit on it Sun Oct 01, 2006 at 06:41:23 pm EDT |
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Dancer #35: “I can do grim and gritty. See me grit.” | |
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Dancer #35: “I can do grim and gritty. See me grit.” [The scene: Sarah Shepherdson is yet again auditioning in her bid to become a stage dancer] Auteur: Next. Name please? Sarah: Hi! My name is Sarah Shepherdson, and today I’d like to perform… Auteur: Thank you. Next. Sarah: What? But I never even got to audition! Auteur: But you said you were Sarah Shepherdson. Sarah: I mean what, do you have a “niece” in mind for the part? Or at least who’s going to be getting some part? Auteur: You are the young woman who knocked out Solly Bentman, are you not? Sarah: Slimy Solly? Well, there was a minor amount of, um, fistal impact between us, in a sort of me to him direction. But he was being very mean to this girl, making uncouth racist remarks about her skin colour and stuff. It wasn’t so much a hitting-him-on-the-nose incident as a public service for the good of humanity. Auteur: Well, Bentman has blacklisted you. You’ll never work in this town again. Sarah: I never worked in this town before. But this is so unfair. Auteur: Too bad. But I’m not going to cross Solly Bentman. I don’t need my theatre mysteriously falling down in the middle of the night. Sarah: Hmmm. There has been a certain amount of thespian venue structural instability recently. Are you saying that Solly was behind it? Auteur: I am saying “Next”. Next! [Sarah returns to her friend, Miiri of Caph, who has accompanied her to the audition. Always take a friend with you. It’s a nice comfort when you don’t get the job and you can make up rude rhymes about the producer together, and it tends to deter all but the really ambitious casting couch directors.] Miiri (who, for the uninitiated, is a green-skinned ex pleasure slave from a distant planet, now loose on Earth and mother to Visionary's twins): Did you get the role? Sarah: Nope. Miiri: I do not understand why. You are very talented. I speak as a trained dancer myself, although my own training focused rather more on gauzy veils fluttering to the floor and being able to hook one’s ankles together behind one’s head. Sarah: Ah, now here in Parodiopolis we make a distinction between stage dancing and dating. Well, I do anyway. Miiri: Your world is very confusing, although there is a gratifying scarcity of flaying whips. Why did you not get the part then, Sarah? Sarah: Hmmm. Well it appears that theatrical sleaze Solly Bentman has blacklisted me, just for breaking his nose over what he called that poor African American girl who went to his Snow White audition. Miiri: That is not fair. Why do you not get your friend the Probability Dancer to make a nice little stage job fall your way? [Regular readers will remember that few people know that Sarah and Dancer are the same person, by the wonders of Dancer’s improbability powers and a hefty dose of suspension of disbelief] Sarah: That would be absolutely cheating. I want to become a star fairly, on merit, not by using other means involving gauzy veils or probability-altering. But now that you mention it, I might get Dancer to take a look at Solly Bentman’s theatre demolition business… [And so, one phone booth later, as shy downtrodden Sarah is replaced by dazzling, confident Dancer…] Dancer: Sorry sir. I just needed somewhere to change to my superhero outfit. I hope it wasn’t an inconvenience. Carry on with you call. Caller: Urk. [And at Solly Bentman’s sleazy theatre nightclub:] Solly: No really, my dear, you have great potential. I need to see you draped out on this couch to assess your muscle flexibility, that’s all. And the health drink is to help you be limber. Sharri: But Mr Bentman, if I flex I’m going to pop out of this teeny tiny audition costume. Also I have to be home by ten on a schoolnight. Solly: Stardom doesn’t come without sacrifices, sweetheart. Now drink your special fruit juice and… [The door to Solly’s office improbably succumbs to terminal woodworm with a crash] Sharri: Eeek! Dancer: Hello Solly. We need to talk. *spots Sharri* And you need to find a vest. Sharri, wide eyed: Dancer? Wow, I have your poster! Dancer: Good. Use it to wrap round yourself and go find a bus home. If you really want to get on in this business then stay away from sleaze like Solly Bentman. Solly: Sleaze? I could sue you for libel, you interfering, um, angry-looking superhero. Ma’am. Sharri: Can I finish my fruit juice? Dancer: No. You’re allergic to it until you’re 18. Sharri: Really? Only I don’t have any symptoms? Dancer: You mean you really are always this dumb? The symptoms are that every time you take a sip Solly here feels a throttling sensation round the neck. Shall we try it and see? Solly, quickly: Get out of here, kid. Go on. Get! [Sharri runs from the room. Solly looks over Dancer’s shoulder] Solly: You made a big mistake coming here, Dancer. I’m somebody in the show-biz world. I have people. Serious people. Dancer: Are some of these serious people the ones blowing up the theatres that don’t do what you want? Only I’m looking for these people, you see. I want to be serious with them. Solly: And I have serious people to deal with intruders. Boys! Show this interfering woman why nobody messes with Solly Bentman! Dancer, shortly afterwards: So, nobody messes with Solly Bentman because your boys break so easily and ooze all over the carpets? Solly: You don’t scare me. I’m no supervillain. You can’t beat me up because I’m not fighting you. I’m smarter than that. I’ll see you in court. Dancer: Ooh, Solly, whatever gave you the idea in these grim and gritty times that we only beat up super-villains? I’ve teamed up with Messenger and the Dark Knight. Although they prefer not to talk about it. I can do grim and gritty. See me grit. Solly: You don’t scare me, sweetheart! I can tell when you’re bluffing. You’re not that good an actress. Dancer: Okay, now you’re giving me audition flashbacks. But Solly, haven’t you realised I don’t even need to touch you to make your life miserable? I’m the Probability Dancer. All I have to do is make unlucky things happen to you. Lots of people have freak piano accidents happening to them all the time. Solly: But you won’t. Because you’re nice. Because you have no evidence that I made any of those theatres catch fire. Because in just a few days time when I can prove that I’ve got absolute control over every drama venue in Paradopolis I’ll get a mob license to run the East Coast entertainment rackets and then the cops won’t even be able to touch me. So ha! Dancer: So… you’re saying that if you control every drama venue in Paradopolis you get to be theatre kingpin? But if you don’t… Solly: But I do. No theatre entrepreneur in the city is dumb enough to cross me! Nobody can stop me now, Dancer! Nobody! Er… Dancer? Where did you go? Dancer? [And out in the back alley, Dancer is on her mobile phone…] Dancer: Hey, Enty! It’s Dancer. Listen, I need you to loan me about a million bucks to buy the old Parodiopolis Variety Theatre so I can put on a show and have a legitimate reason to kick a villain called Solly Bentman in the reviews. Yeah, that old haunted run down place by Off-Central Park that hasn’t been used for thirty years since the serial murders. Yes, the one that’s ruined, with the secret lake and island underneath it. I want to buy it and put on a show. Thanks Enty. Make the cheque out to my old friend Sarah Shepherdson, would you? Bye. Dancer: There. Now I just need some actors who don’t realise that putting on a show in the old Variety Theatre is certain death, either from Solly Bentman or the Curse. Hmm… Dancer: Hi, Vizh! It’s me. Listen, you know you like to sing in the shower… [To be continued. After all, Vizh isn’t the only Legionnaire who has all kinds of hidden talents  ] |
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