(The Last Blunder is a humorous weekly serial detailing the making of a true independent filmmaking catastrophe. I hope all of you who read along find it entertaining and can relate to it to some degree. The names of the participants have been changed. Any comments, suggestions, compliments, or criticisms can be sent to damianATkaverasfilmDOTcom. Enjoy!)
The Last Blunder: Chapter 7 by Damian K. Lahey
Curley Blonde’s tech scout had finally arrived. Biff wanted me there early that morning. When I arrived, he calmly explained that the crew respected him more than me and to simply accept it. This was because they knew full well what the name ‘Biff Frank’ meant in Wilmington. Then he told me that since I “didn’t have shit” and he “did have shit”, that he would be drawing a larger weekly salary from the production since he had a house and a Land Rover. He told me I still needed to pay my dues. I thought that was a pretty crappy way to start the day. But then Balthazar Spankentstein showed up. He had his notebook with him and was dressed impeccably. He was there to impress. Spanky was afraid of Biff, who didn’t bother saying hello, but instead thrust a budget in his face and told him we needed more money. He was right. We did need more money. I could tell that conversation was going to get ugly, but then a panicky Curley Blonde came in for some last minute copy machine use and we were saved.
The rest of the crew arrived shortly thereafter. Everyone except for 1st A.D. hopeful John Gavin, who was day playing on a BMW commercial as their ‘shammy boy’. He was making quite the career leap working on The Last Blunder. Sergio and Tonino Savanti (sound), Karen Hall (art director), Morrison (D.P.) and Terry Heart (gaffer), all made it. Along for the ride were Shifto Jeans, Studs Diamonds, and Billy Bold. I knew Blonde had asked them to come for morale support. Their presence infuriated Biff to no end. But what could he do? They were paying his self-inflated salary. When Curley Blonde was about to give his tech scout introduction, Biff cut him off and apologized to everyone for not being at the first production meeting, that it shouldn’t have been done without him, and that he’d never let that happen again. I figured someone must have made a complaint. I was wrong. Biff just wanted to assert himself as the ultimate producer of the project. That was fine with me. He could take all the credit he wanted. I knew what we were making.
The emphasis of this tech scout was to find a location, or locations, that would serve as the house of the main character of the film, Henry. We were supposed to visit four of these houses. We got through two…
The first possible location was a large three story house in a nice, quiet neighborhood about twenty miles away from downtown Wilmington. We were greeted at the door by an old, fat, bearded hippie wearing a silk bathrobe and sandals. He had a snifter of cognac in his hand. His name was Hugh. The place had wooden floors and was spacious. There were the various Woodstock posters and the like all about, but they were nicely framed. All the furniture was high end. I assumed he’d picked up some sort of inheritance along the way. The place smelled like weed. Hugh was intimidated by how many of us were there, and asked if there would be that many of us around if we shot there. The man was clueless. Biff laughed in Blonde’s face and reamed him out for not properly disclosing production logistics and stomped outside. I didn’t think that was appropriate, and tried to delicately explain to Hugh exactly what having a film crew at his house would entail. He said he would have to speak to his wife about it some more. He had no idea what was going on. I told Studs and Billy to wait outside as to not agitate the gentleman any further. I was going to tell Shifto to do the same, but he was too busy pacing around the house inspecting this and that, all the while chatting away on his cell phone like Mr. big Hollywood agent. Unfortunately, with his frumpy trench coat and fedora he looked more like a poor man’s Colombo or McGruff the Crime Dog than he did a fast talking Hollywood player.
After some inspection, Spankenstein came down the stairs and asked Blonde if he’d read the script, because if he had, he would have realized that the main character’s parents weren’t a bunch of stoner hippies. This offended Hugh, who jerked angrily, spilling some cognac on his silk bathrobe. As he fumbled around on a large oak desk for a napkin, Karen blurted out that her job was to make the place whatever Spanky desired and she had no problem with taking down paintings and moving things around. Hugh turned green. I was starting to feel sorry for Curley. Morrison came down and said extensive work was going to have to be done if they were going to shoot certain scenes. He then began describing in obnoxious detail what he was going to have to do to make things work when Hugh told us to stop. He shook his head and waved his hands in front of his face and told us it wasn’t going to work, we’d have to find someplace else. When the Savantis came down to give their own report on the location, he hurried us out of the house before they even had a chance to speak.
The next place we looked at was owned by a Mr. and Mrs. Hawthorne. They were a lovely couple with a lovely home and a lovely daughter. A lovely daughter that wanted to act in the film, too. I thought why not. Curley had already told the Hawthornes he couldn’t promise anything, but was sure the kid could at least get an audition. This was further evidence to Biff that we were all unprofessional incompetents. He stormed outside and spent the remainder of the time laughing and calling people to let them know what amateurs we were. Part of me couldn’t blame him. But part of me felt his behavior wasn’t helping matters either. The house was nice, though. There was plenty of room for Morrison and Karen to play. I also thought the kid should’ve read for the part of Henry’s sister. Shifto was against this, as he was already in discussions with some girl in Montana for the part. Spankenstein felt the house was wonderful and agreed that we should at least read the girl to humor the family. I could tell Blonde was getting excited. He thought he’d found a keeper. Despite everything, I was happy for him. He’d done a lot of work and deserved some reward. He also wanted to get one up on Biff, and so did I. Then Spankenstein decided to do something truly remarkable. We were standing in the Hawthorne’s older son’s bedroom, discussing how great it would work as Henry’s bedroom when Spanky, lost in a moment of bliss, jumped up onto the bed and began rolling around, a look of pure nostalgia on his face. “Oh, my god,” he moaned. “This is just like Henry’s bed!” And then he continued to wiggle and writhe on the bed, while the Hawthornes looked on, absolutely horrified. After what seemed like an eternity, Spanky rolled off the bed, panting and giggling and declared “We’ve got it! We’ve got Henry’s house”. I thought Mr. Hawthorne was going to throw down with Spanky right then and there, but his wife held him back.
I walked outside to smoke a cigarette and let Curley Blonde deal with the sticky situation. Outside, Biff, Studs and Billy were milling around in the driveway. Biff looked miserable. I could understand. Billy, 42 ounces of vodka and cranberry into the day, was regaling them with one of his ribald tales of frat house glory. Studs clapped his hands when he saw me. He knew his boy had found us a winner with this one. Then the troops slowly marched out of the house, Mrs. Hawthorne following behind them. She apologized, but said that she was frankly embarrassed by what had transpired in the bedroom. Spanky stood still, staring at the ground. The rest of the crew looked deeply humiliated. Karen glowered at Spanky. I apologized. Mrs. Hawthorne asked that we not contact her again. Spanky said that if it was any consolation, he would still consider her daughter for the part. Mrs. Hawthorne shook her head in disgust and walked inside.
We stood outside in shame. Finally, Blonde cleared his throat and said his maps to the next location were in the car. Biff said we weren’t going anywhere till somebody told him what happened in the house. I decided to call off the rest of the scout. We’d reschedule for another day. Everybody walked to their cars and drove off. I told Biff we’d talk about it when we got back to the office.
(I want to thank everybody for reading and hope you continue to read as the misadventures of The Last Blunder continue next week…)
(The Last Blunder is a humorous weekly serial detailing the making of a true independent filmmaking catastrophe. I hope all of you who read along find it entertaining and can relate to it to some degree. The names of the participants have been changed. Any comments, suggestions, compliments, or criticisms can be sent to damianATkaverasfilmDOTcom. Enjoy!) The Last Blunder: Chapter 6 by Damian K. Lahey
My strategy for the first production meeting was simple - get in and get out. I wanted everyone to get their folders, their contracts and their schedules. I didn’t want to answer a lot of questions. I wanted to keep things as broad as possible. The meeting was to be at six o’ clock. Phil Lately, always looking for a free production meal, was trying to get me to purchase some catered chicken wings and cheese platters to schmooze the crew. I had to admit it wasn’t a bad idea, but our budget being what it was – it just wasn’t feasible. This didn’t stop him from spending a good part of the day getting quotes from different caterers and grocery stores in town.
I had called Curley Blonde the night before to let him know he wouldn’t be needed at the office. I’d let everyone at the meeting know about his tech scout, but he could take the day off. I could tell I hurt his feelings, but I didn’t care. I was the boss. And I wasn’t going to spend the day of our first production meeting trying to pry him off the copy machine.
I got a lot of calls from Biff Frank, who was trying to micromanage things from afar. He told me I had to get Balthazar Spankenstein to make an appearance. I called Spanky and Midriff answered. I tried to disguise my voice, but she knew it was me. I could tell from the tone of her voice that she was still bent out of shape about being fired. I dropped the niceties and told her to put Spanky on the phone. She told me he was busy. I could only imagine. I told her to get Spanky to call me when he was freed up. I had a feeling the only thing that was keeping him busy all day was banging Suzy, but I hoped he was pursuing some investment leads. That was probably wishful thinking. Biff called every five minutes to see if I’d heard from Spanky. Eventually, I turned all his calls over to Phil. I was contacting everybody to confirm they were going to be there. I was glad everyone was going to be able to attend. There were no cancellations.
The only person I wished would cancel was Shifto Jeans. He showed up and wanted to speak to me in private. I told him there was no need. Phil Lately didn’t care what was being said either way. Shifto told me he wanted to speak to the crew after I was done with my business at the meeting. I asked why he wanted to involve the crew with his casting stuff. Shifto told me that he would represent the investors of the film and give an impassioned speech, letting everyone know how much they appreciated their underpaid hard work. I told him that was a bad idea and also something I felt was highly inappropriate. Shifto didn’t take that well. He told me he was hurt by my comments and though he normally wouldn’t do it, he was going to go over my head and call Biff Frank directly about the matter. I told him to go ahead. Shifto grabbed one of the production phones and made the call. As I sorted through some paperwork, I could hear Biff ripping him a new one. Shifto politely got off the phone and excused himself. I asked if I needed to allocate some meeting time to his investor speech. Shifto shook his head and left the office. I was glad to be rid of him so I could get back to work.
The meeting was nice and brief. Essentially, all the Keys were there. Morrison, our cinematographer; Terence Heart, our gaffer; Patricia Salami, our wardrobe person; Karen Hall, our art director; John Gavin, our tentative 1st A.D.; Toby Horace, tentative second A.D.; and Sergio and Tonino Savanti, our twin Italian sound guys. There were positions to be filled, of course, but this was a solid foundation to build on. These crew members of The Last Blunder will be discussed in more detail in upcoming chapters.
I passed out the paper work, said my bit, and let everyone know about Blonde’s tech scout. Everyone seemed impressed with the folders I’d put together for them, and to my relief, Shifto didn’t show up. I stood up to close the meeting and thank everyone when the door opened and Balthazar Spankenstein came stumbling in, stoned and drunk. Everyone turned. Spanky plopped down in the chair next to Patricia Salami. He stared up at the ceiling with a dazed smile on his face. Not knowing what else to do, I introduced Balthazar Spankenstein to our crew. He either ignored or didn’t comprehend the introduction. He continued to stare off into his own personal independent film land of Oz. Everyone began to shift uncomfortably in their seats. I told Spanky we were wrapping up and asked if there was anything he wanted to add. He opened his mouth as if to say something and then began laughing like a moron. Any faith the crew may have had in our little-engine-that-could production was being sucked dry by the stoned black hole that was Balthazar Spankenstein.
I thanked everyone for coming and told them I’d be in touch. Suddenly, Spanky let out the battle cry “let’s make a movie!!!” and then let his head fall back and laughed hysterically. After this embarrassing display came to a close, I thanked Spanky for his inspiring words and closed the meeting. When everybody left, Spanky remained at the table, looking like he was about to pass out. I sat down and went through some paper work. I had nothing to say to him. Every couple minutes or so, out of the corner of my eye, I would notice him chuckle to himself while staring off into that endless void. Biff Frank called and asked how the meeting went. I filled him in and then told him Spanky arrived and wanted to talk to him. I handed the phone to Spanky, who proceeded to slobber, blather, and giggle his way through what I gathered was a terse conversation with Biff. After a couple minutes, Spanky hung up the phone, looking a little more sober and somber. He slowly stood up from the table and staggered out into the night. I was about to head on out when Biff called me back. He said he’d definitely be there for the tech scout on Friday and if Spanky hadn’t shaped up by then, he was gonna walk.
(I want to thank everybody for reading and hope you continue to read as the misadventures of The Last Blunder continue next week…)
(The Last Blunder is a humorous weekly serial detailing the making of a true independent filmmaking catastrophe. I hope all of you who read along find it entertaining and can relate to it to some degree. The names of the participants have been changed. Any comments, suggestions, compliments, or criticisms can be sent to damianATkaverasfilmDOTcom. Enjoy!) The Last Blunder: Chapter 5 by Damian K. Lahey
Getting ready for our first full blown production meeting was becoming problematic. Balthazar Spankenstein, still sulking at the bunker, wasn’t going to show. I was too busy getting ready for the meeting to interview people for the Assistant Production Office Coordinator position, so in the meantime, I gave Morrison and my jack-leg roommate Phil Lately a day-playing gig at the office. Phil Lately was a professional adult bum. He needed the money because he couldn’t pay rent. Like most of these types, he fancied himself some sort of writer. I hired him to take some of the pressure off of Morrison and myself. In Wilmington, there were a number of senior citizen age characters that were mentally unstable and got monthly checks from the government to pay their bills and to not make any real attempt to become part of society. While good intentioned, they were hard to be around because they were crazy. Phil liked to have them over to the house where he would grill out turkey dogs and wax poetic. He thought it was great they didn’t know enough to flush the toilet after taking a dump, rambled on about improbable inventions they wanted to build in their basements, and treated the place like one big garbage can. Getting cornered by one of these guys was dangerous. They also got real mouthy when you disagreed with them. I told Phil not to invite any of them over to the office. I could tell he was disappointed, but needing the gig, he decided not to press the issue.
Around this time, Shifto and I had a meeting about his and Spanky’s casting decisions. They’d decided to cast the film with all out of town talent and that aside from a couple conference calls, there would be no rehearsals. We couldn’t afford to put anyone up for any sort of rehearsal period. I was going to once again recommend we cast locally, but bit my tongue. I’d already been burned on that score. As a first time director, I know I would want some rehearsal time. Shifto told me they would know their lines and be ready to go when they arrived. I was starting to wonder how Spanky was going to be spending his time on set. Meanwhile, Biff Frank was asserting his authority from the other film set he was working on. He made lots of phone calls wanting to know what was going on. He was also getting increasingly irritated with Spanky’s bunker mentality and how it was slowing down our progress. He also loathed Studs and wanted me to limit his involvement as much as possible. He too had been involved in Monster In My Boxers.
The last thing I wanted to do was change the date of the meeting. It was important to me that we stick to it. While the crew certainly knew this was a low budget affair, I wanted things to remain somewhat professional. I felt if we couldn’t even stick to the scheduled time of our first production meeting, we had no reason to expect our crew to take us seriously. It was as simple as that. With Shifto, Spanky, and Studs, it was already going to be a difficult task. Biff was going to be working late on his other production and wanted the meeting pushed. He felt if he wasn’t there, it didn’t count. However, I knew some of the gory details of his show. I believed the chance of a reschedule date being pushed was too great. We were going to have the meeting anyway. Aside from passing out contact lists, crew contracts, day-out-of-days and giving a rough schedule and answering any questions, it wasn’t going to be that in depth. I felt I could handle it.
Curley Blonde was getting ready for what would be the first of many tech scouts. This was to take place two days after our production meeting. He was upset that the meeting was taking priority over his tech scout. I didn’t understand what he wanted from me. All he had to do was set up the times with the locations and print out some maps. He liked to make his presence felt at the office by hogging the copy machine as much as possible. It was annoying considering all the copying that needed to be done getting ready for the meeting.
I made the mistake of taking one of my pitiful paychecks and buying the Bruce Springsteen Live In New York CD a couple days before the meeting. While putting everybody’s production folders together, I listened to the album. Shifto came in after what looked like a hectic day of who knows what. Trying to make pleasant conversation to avoid the growing tension that was slowly but steadily eclipsing the production, I mentioned my music purchase. Shifto, waiting patiently behind Curley to use the copy machine, made a comment about how nice it must be to afford things as frivolous as a Bruce Springsteen CD during these hard won days of sacrificial independent filmmaking. He then mentioned the ‘sacrifices’ he and Spanky were making in their lives so that The Last Blunder could take flight. I told Shifto in a not so diplomatic tone that I would spend my money on whatever the fuck I felt like and it wasn’t any of his goddamn business. I wasn’t an investor in the film. I was a paid employee and a poorly paid one at that. If Shifto wanted to give someone a hard time about spending frivolously, he could take it up with strip club junkie Studs. I was there to do a job and do it well. I wasn’t planning my retirement around the film’s performance. Curley Blonde took a break from dry humping the copy machine to mention he didn’t appreciate me speaking poorly of his mentor, Studs. Then Shifto muttered something about me having no respect for certain members of the production. I said forget it. I’d get to the office early in the morning to continue getting ready for the meeting when I had the place to myself.
(I want to thank everybody for reading and hope you continue to read as the misadventures of The Last Blunder continue next week…)
(The Last Blunder is a humorous weekly serial detailing the making of a true independent filmmaking catastrophe. I hope all of you who read along find it entertaining and can relate to it to some degree. The names of the participants have been changed. Any comments, suggestions, compliments, or criticisms can be sent to damianATkaverasfilmDOTcom. Enjoy!) The Last Blunder: Chapter 4 by Damian K. Lahey
I want to start off this chapter by pointing out that the “production office” I’ve been referring to was in fact my co-producer’s house. His name was Biff Frank, not to be confused with the hot dog. Biff was in his thirties and was a real journeyman. He was a meats and potatoes kind of guy but highly efficient in the day-to-day mechanics of production and all things crew related. He was also very blunt. I was good cop and he was bad cop, and we worked well together that way. During this period, Biff was working long nights as the production office coordinator on another film in town, and didn’t come in until the office was closed for the day. We will talk more about him later.
The firing of Suzy Midriff had created a bunker mentality amongst Balthazar Spankenstein and his loyalists. Spanky would only hold meetings with Shifto and Studs at his garage apartment where a scantily clad Suzy would drape herself over him. Shifto and Studs would then meet me at the office to discuss what they had discussed with Spanky. It was a poor way of getting things done and it certainly showed because…nothing was getting done. So we had two production offices running. Since all official business was being run through mine, it didn’t make much sense. At the same time, we were trying to prepare for our first production meeting with the entire crew in little under a week. I could tell Curley Blonde wished he could be part of the bunker crew, but he was stuck with me. There was more than enough work to go around and I was doing all of it myself. At the bunker, Studs was doing his own schedule and breakdowns. One of his girls from the club had an interest in film and he was paying her to do it. Shifto felt I had handled the affair with Suzy unprofessionally and thought I was picking on her. I just wanted to move on. Despite our differences, if we didn’t start working together, we wouldn’t be making a movie. Period.
It’s time that I introduce the cinematographer of The Last Blunder: Morrison McCarthy. Morrison had worked with me on another independent feature and a music video. He was also my roommate. Morrison had a great eye, good instincts, and was a lover of all things film. He was one of the few people who supported me when I first moved into town and that meant a lot to me. Preliminary meetings he’d had with Spanky before pre-production had not been very inspiring. And I felt bad that we had to bring him in during this awkward time. Morrison had to meet with Spanky and company at the bunker. Morrison already didn’t like Shifto Jeans or Studs Diamonds after an experience he had with them on a short film they’d made called Monster In My Boxers. That had been a true Studs Diamonds production. For the premiere of this short, a four story bar/restaurant had been rented out with kegs and an open bar. That was where Morrison and I first met. Morrison had been disgusted by the obscene amount of money being spent on the premiere party for this fifteen-minute short when the production itself had been done as cheaply as humanly possible, with the crew treated like slave labor. Studs’ crass plantation rich lifestyle offended Morrison’s more humble southern sensibilities.
When Morrison arrived at the bunker, he wasn’t impressed. He didn’t particularly like having meetings with Spanky, former employee Midriff, and two associate producers—one with a stripper doing script breakdowns. I wondered how they all fit in there. After some cajoling, Spanky gave his heavies the day off and sat down for a meeting with Morrison. But it didn’t go well. Spanky seemed distracted by Suzy, who, oddly enough, had more ideas about how to structure the film visually then Spanky. Of course, some of this can be attributed to Spanky’s belief that he needed to be stoned to dive into the visual nuances of his film. Unfortunately, marijuana didn’t open Spanky’s mind, it shut it down. Hard. With his eyes half open, Spanky giggled and talked about ordering pizza. As Morrison patiently tried to walk him through scenes, Spanky began incoherently blathering about shots he wanted for scenes they’d gone over twenty minutes before. Eager to assert herself and prove her worthiness after being fired from the production, Suzy would interject at every possible moment, eliciting looks of doped up lust from Spanky and driving Morrison up the wall.
Morrison decided this was no way to work. He and Spanky would work alone at our house, while I was at the ‘Production Office’. They needed to focus and stay on task. There was a lot of work to be done and not a day could be wasted. While thumbing through Papa John’s coupons, Spanky reluctantly agreed. The next day when the elite production squad gathered at the bunker before heading over to the office, Studs explained that his ‘girl’ hadn’t worked out with the breakdowns and scheduling. She wasn’t up to the task. Spoiled by the easy drugs and easy money of stripping, she just didn’t have the discipline for serious production work. Studs Diamonds decided they should just stick with the work I had done. Shifto agreed. Of course he did. I was doing all his paperwork while he was sucking up to Spanky, running his mouth about me. The bunker was falling apart.
Spanky then headed over to our house for his one on one with Morrison. After what Morrison would later describe as ‘an excruciatingly painful experience’ it was decided that he would direct all camera movement for the film and Spanky would focus on the actors. Spanky was totally cool with being relieved of half his duties as director after his second meeting with the D.P. But he still wanted to be kept in the loop, so they agreed to meet once a week at our house to discuss things.
(I want to thank everybody for reading and hope you continue to read as the misadventures of The Last Blunder continue next week…)
(The Last Blunder is a humorous weekly serial detailing the making of a true independent filmmaking catastrophe. I hope all of you who read along find it entertaining and can relate to it to some degree. The names of the participants have been changed. Any comments, suggestions, compliments, or criticisms can be sent to damianATkaverasfilmDOTcom. Enjoy!)
The Last Blunder: Chapter 3 by Damian K. Lahey
A sweaty and nervous Balthazar Spankenstein walked into the office and slumped down in the couch, looking depressed. He was followed by a swaggering Studs Diamonds. Billy Bold, Studs’ fat and jocular sunburnt lawyer came next. Spanky was upset because a certain actress he’d wanted to cast in the film from Beverly Hills 90210 had turned him down. Suzy rushed to his side and began giving him a back massage. I stayed focused on doing my breakdowns of the script and tried to ignore my surroundings. Studs told Spanky not to worry. Even though the actress had a name and had been in a hit TV show, they could save money and find a better looking girl with his strip club connections. Billy was sitting at the table nursing a 42 oz margarita he’d mixed up in one of those huge gas station to-go cups. At 27, he had the ruddy, blistering red face of a 50 yr old drunkard. He and Studs had been out on his daddy’s boat with some girls from the club when a panicked Spanky had called with the news. But all was not lost yet. Shifto Jeans, investor-turned-associate producer-turned-casting director was on his way to save the day. I mentioned that we should cast the role with local talent as we really didn’t have the money to be messing around with name talent and agencies. Spanky sharply told me that wasn’t part of my job description. This was followed by a round of smug chortling from Studs and Billy, who approved of Spanky putting me in my place.
Shifto came into the office a couple minutes later and was clearly in damage control mode. Something had to be done. They needed a name actress for the lifeguard. There was no way around it. Shifto was also a little miffed because one of the reasons he’d become an associate producer on The Last Blunder was because of this 90210 actress. I watched as Spanky tried to explain how there was some sort of contractual loop hole they’d found, and that if only he had the money for a lawyer he’d sue their asses off and that all this was just another example of big, rich, Hollywood working over the little guy. We all knew he’d been raising money falsely advertising that this actress was going to be in the film, but nobody wanted to bring this up. What was done, was done. Studs and Billy got up and excused themselves. They would leave this matter in the confident hands of Shifto. Their job here was finished. They left discussing an amateur porn site they wanted to put together with autographed panties and naked girls doing keg stands.
His power massage ended, Spanky joined Shifto at the table for what I assumed would be a delusional conversation about what A-List actresses they could try to get to act in the film for free. But then Molly Wire came bursting into the office freaking out. Her dad was thinking about pulling out his money. He wanted to have a face to face with Spanky as soon as possible. Spanky turned pale and started shaking. Shifto sorted through his paperwork and pretended not to hear what was going down. I was sure he was beginning to have his doubts. I glanced over at Midriff, who was glowering at Wire. I told Spanky to tell old man Wire that we’d be shooting for six weeks, alternating between five-day and six-day weeks, a total of thirty-three days with three pick-up days if needed. And honestly, with our budget looking the way it was, this was very much an impossibility. I’d been hiding that grotesque fact from Spanky, counting on him to raise more money so we could get there.
As Spanky stared off into space, Molly Wire informed us that her dad was waiting at a café down the street for either affirmation we were going to make the film or to give him his money back. Shifto said he’d go along and be the voice of another investor. One who was in for the long haul. One who knew that The Last Blunder was destined to make them all filthy rich. I volunteered to stay at the office and Suzy wasn’t invited, and Spanky didn’t say goodbye to her as they rushed out to their emergency meeting. Suzy rushed to the window and watched as they crammed into Shifto’s Mercedes and peeled off. As soon as they were out of sight, she let out a blood curdling scream, picked up a couple copies of the script, and hurled them across the room. She then paced around for a bit, cursing Spanky up and down. She jumped up on the couch and began tearing head shots off the walls and ripping them in half. After exhausting herself, she collapsed on the desk and began sobbing her brains out. She tried calling Spanky a few times, but he wasn’t answering. She must’ve forgotten the importance of their meeting. It was around the time that she grabbed a beer from the fridge and started chugging it while crying hysterically that I decided that she needed to be fired. I grabbed the beer out of her hand and explained to her that given the dramatic circumstances involved in the production and her inability to handle them, it would be best if she stayed away.
Suzy lay on the couch and wept silently while I waited for Spanky to return. When he did, he didn’t look well. They’d kept the money, but it had come with a price. Molly Wire looked like she’d been crying and Shifto looked despondent. I gathered that a larger percentage of the film’s gross had been forfeited to hold on to Daddy’s money. Shifto would have to downsize the boat he was thinking of buying. Of course, what they didn’t know, but what I DID know—as I had all the paperwork—was that Spanky had already promised about 325% of the film, pulling a ‘Producers’ so to speak. I gave Spanky credit for trying to put a good face on what was going on, but it was rough. When he noticed Suzy crying on the couch, he asked what was wrong. I told him the situation. I was then berated for being hard on the girl, but I held my ground. I’d have someone else there in the morning. Shifty sat with her on the couch and consoled her. Spanky told me the timing for Suzy’s firing wasn’t what he needed after a stressful day. Molly Wire quietly exited and soon enough, so did everybody else…
(I want to thank everybody for reading and hope you continue to read as the misadventures of The Last Blunder continue next week…)
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