In its nearly 22,000 years of existence, the city of Burbank sat as a barren heap on the Los Angeles basin. They say that the natives used it as a staging ground for child sacrifices, senseless slaughtering of enemies captured in meaningless disputes lost to history. Since man began sowing the fields of Eden, Burbank remained a godless land where even the most savage beast dare not tread. When the white man came, those conquistadors found acres of cow shit and rivers fouled with the funk carcasses rotted. There it remained for another hundred years before a movie executive saw fit to build a studio there. Nothing has changed in the time since. Still the stench and ghosts of men long dead shout aloud in its halls. At the very center of this ghastly haunt is Trainwreck Productions which sits as a Caesar watching over its forsaken wasteland. No one dares challenge him. For what king would be foolish enough to lay claim?
That’s when I graced its halls. Perhaps for the last time I thought.
Pablo was waiting on me in the lobby. He was more alert than usual. “I don’t know why but Kat and Jimmy aren’t talking to me,” he explained.
“That’s okay. Dan is taking care of contract negotiations,” I said.
He was flummoxed. “Well, am I still your agent?”
“I haven’t fired you yet,” I shrugged.
“Goddamnit,” he said. “Then let’s get this day over with.”
Kat joined us moments later. “Great news fellas!” she exclaimed.
“What’s that? I’m finally getting back pay for my work on This Tastes Like Ass?” I ask.
She cocked her head. “No. The elevator is finally working. So no more crawling up the air ducts.”
It wasn’t much but it was something. Perhaps a sign of things to come. After all it only took 30 years. So the three of us crowded into the cramped elevator, Kat more chipper than usual. “Did you remember to bring your script notes?” she leaned forward to ask me.
“You should know me by now Kat,” I told her. “When have I ever taken notes?”
TO BE CONTINUED…
The Internet Ruined Everything 