And yet another shot at the title (part xxxvii)

“I just don’t want you to kill me like you killed Christian Bale,” Ryan Duckling told me before start of shooting. He put on about 100lbs for the role, per my instructions of course, which naturally caused him to like shit.

“Don’t worry about Chris Bale,” I said to comfort him. “You see, Chris had an Oscar before he died. But you, you’ll never win one. And that’s because you’re afraid to take risks. That’s what I’m trying to change, you see. Look what happened to Brandon Frasier. He became a fatass and they handed him an Oscar. That’s what it takes. That’s what I want for you.”

I figured that I had him convinced when Greta rudely interrupted my pep talk. “Goddamnit James,” she screamed, “Pablo told me that you threatened him with physical violence when he dropped me off this morning!”

“Ohhhh yeah, I did,” I told her. “Sorry about that Greta. Don’t worry about it though. That’s how I usually end meetings with agents.”

“He said that you threatened him over me!”

I nodded my head. “That’s true.”

“And you banned him from the set?!”

“Sure did.”

Greta rubbed her forehead, likely due to an impending tension headache. I’ve seen this look hundreds of times from Kat. After taking a deep breath, Greta finally told me “James, I’m telling you this for your own good: we will never be together. And Pablo is no longer your agent. If you’re going to get upset over us dating, then this will be a long shoot for you. If you want, Kat can meditate between the two of us if you think that will make things easier.”

“Yeah, sure,” I said. “I agree with you Greta. I should be an emotionless automaton. That will make me suck as a director and the film will suffer as a result. But you’re right…”

“I didn’t say that you fool…”

“…I heard you loud and clear Greta. In fact, I’m not gonna say shit for the rest of production.” Then I looked to Ryan. “Sorry Ryan,” I told him, “if you want any more direction, go talk to my grandson Cornelius. He’ll know what to do.” Then I directed my ire back towards Greta. “You’re a great problem solver Greta,” I said sardonically, “you’re gonna make a wonderful picture!”

Then I shouted over to Cornelius who was scratching his ass by the women’s bathroom. “Cornelius!” I said, “Have you ever directed a movie before?!”

TO BE CONTINUED…

another Shot at the Title (part v)

After Christian (Bale’s) funeral, I began lamenting some of my decisions at the production studio. “Maybe I shouldn’t have asked him to gain 150lbs,” I said.

“You’re one arrogant son of a bitch,” Jeffery Greco said.

“Don’t blame me for his death!” I replied. “Chris could’ve turned down the role!”

Kat was two sheets in the wind when she spoke up. “I’m finished in this town,” she said. “Because of you, I’ll never work again.”

“Lay off the sauce, Kat,” I said. “Now pour me a drink.”

“There’s no way we can release the film now,” Kat continued. “$7 billion down the toilet!”

“Now calm down!” I interrupted. “We’ll just have to do some reshoots. I’ll step in for Chris’s role. I’m an Academy Award-winning actor too, ya know?”

“Hold on there bucko,” Greco said. “There ain’t no way the studio will let you back on the set. Not after the lawsuit with Dallas and killing your leading man. That’s to say nothing about the numerous investigations into your international holdings!”

“If the film’s gonna be completed,” Kat said, “then your assistant, Pee-Wee, will finish production.”

“Well that Machiavellian son of a bitch,” I said. “I knew he had an ulterior motive.”

“Since we are 90% finished with filming, we’ll use CGI to complete Chris’s scenes,” explained Kat. “That will considerably jack up the budget, but we have no other choice.”

“Then I guess I’m fired,” I said as I stood up. “But I still want full credit for directing this picture.”

“Not happening,” Kat replied.

“Kat, you’ve crossed me for the last time,” I said. “I’m going to the Director’s Guild. If you want a court battle, you’ve got one sister!”

TO BE CONTINUED

another shot at the Title (part iv)

“Are you sure you don’t want to do another take?” Christian (Bale) asked.

“Nope, one is enough,” I said.

Jimmy Del Greco spoke up. “Chris is right,” he said. “You need to do more takes. At the rate we’re going to be seven months ahead of schedule.”

“Hey Jimmy,” I replied, “the donuts are over there. Why don’t you manage the crew while I handle the directing, okay?”

“Do another fucking take,” Kat interrupted. “We’re already $3 billion over budget. We built sets, you rewrote the script, tore the sets down, and now we’re in Bidwell Park with a one-man cast, no sets , and a minimal crew. We could’ve shot this thing for $1 million! Let’s get our money’s worth out of this thing!”

“Kat,” I replied, “you’re the money person, I’m the artist. I know what I’m doing, mmmk? Trust the process.”

Pee-Wee the Production Assistant came running up to me. “Dallas San Antonio Houston is here to see you sir,” he said.

“Thank you Pee-Wee. You’re the only one that listens around here.”

I excused myself to the production trailer. Dallas was pacing back and forth. “What the hell is going on?” he asked.

“Relax Dallas,” I said. “Take a seat.”

I offered him a glass of brandy, which he declined. I drank both glasses myself.

Dallas was livid. “Why is a 350lb Christian Bale running around naked in Bidwell Park?” he asked. “This was supposed to be a courtroom drama. My magnum opus! You completely re-wrote the script!”

“So I took some creative liberties with the script,” I replied. “I might’ve changed it from a courtroom drama into a man-against-nature story a la The Naked Prey. But ask yourself this: what’s the difference between a story about truth and justice and a story about one man’s survival in the woods while his cock flops around? They’re the same thing thematically! It’s still your script.”

“I think you’re trying to abuse the system for your own gain.”

“Dallas, I have more money than I know what to do with. I own governments that I didn’t even know about. Did you know that the EU is investigating me for extorting the Russian government? Can you believe that shit? So what’s $2.5 billion to me?”

“I’ll go to the Guild about this.”

“Listen to me. You don’t want to do that. If you do, that will delay the release and a lot of people’s money and careers are dependent on the success of this film. I’ll tell you what, I’ll cut you a check for $500,000,000 right here. Or how about Trinidad and Tobago? I’m not offering you a trip there, I’m offering you the country of Trinidad and Tobago.”

“You’re disgusting. You think you can bribe me out of this?”

“Yes”

Before Dallas could respond, Pee-Wee ran into the trailer. “Christian (Bale) collapsed!” he yelled. “Call an ambulance!”