Whatever The Weather
Irene started spinning in her swivel chair. Her office was perched up over the skyline like a bird. The streets were once again empty. The time showed 9:26, but only half a dozen staff members even entered the studio since eight.
“Come here, Ricky,” Irene called out to the empty lounge area where a hoodie-fitted male sank back onto the round felt chair.
She grabbed a chair and pulled it close to the coffee table.
“You’ve eaten yet?” Irene placed the coffee cup inside the electric mixer, where it poured in the milk and sugar automatically before violently whisking it away with steel stirrers to a brown liquid. The light on the machine turns green, and the glass flap that stops anything sloshing out opens.
“I did.” Ricky took off his cap and tossed it casually onto the table. “I had one of those big English breakfast meals because they are doing a 10% on that, and I haven’t had one in ages. Where is everybody?”
The temperature indicator read 82F. Irene glanced at it before taking a sip, confirming that it is the correct amount of sugar.
“No idea, I received no calls. It's not like today is exactly busy anyway." The cup goes on the table.
"I don't know. I heard it was a firestorm last night, I mean, the President announced this proclamation and everyone is freaking out. I gave Janet a call and she was all up-in-arms about how the government is not giving her freedom, it's all very unimportant now. Wasn’t she ladling soup last week to the homeless?"
"So what you're saying is, everyone was absent because of this curfew thing?"
"I honestly have zero idea. I woke up at 6:30 today, didn't know about this at all. Went for breakfast, and then when I was eating, I turned on the hologram, like everyone else in the place, and, bam, we're under duress now."
There was the sounds of a previous shoot leaking out of the door of the editor room on the wall their back is facing.
"I didn't know Carl came in."
"Oh, he's just sorting the dailies and fixing some sound they say it didn't come through." Ricky peeked through the small window. "Yep, there he is."
The doorbell rang at the door.
Irene opened the door. It was a courier.
“Sign here, ma’am.” Her finger scrubbed her signature into a small piece of glass he was holding in the other palm. “And the fingerprint.”
The director pushed down on the glass. The edges of it turned white.
“Right.” The courier handed her the card-wrapped packages from his other hand while he stuffed the authenticator back into its pouch affixed to his belt.
Irene went back inside, and plopped the stacks of brown-colored blocks onto the table.
Ricky grabbed a pair of scissors to cut through the nylon ties. “What’s this?”
“I think it’s the editor sending back the script.”
The ties were broken and the paper covering the contents was unfurled, revealing stacks and stacks of neatly-bind physical copies of the script. A block of text vaguely similar to this was laser-blasted onto the cover of each.
Untapped (Tentative)
Screenplay
Second Draft
What followed was a red textual indicator indicating the individual versions of the same work. PROOF for the unadulterated original, MARKED for a version with its corrections or rewrites highlighted in the same red as the indicator itself, SECTIONED for a version with each character individually highlighted, and a small divider between scenes. And finally, two with DIRECTOR emphasized stage directions, audio instructions, and included every single feature of every version before it.
“Let’s see,” Ricky flipped open one of the DIRECTOR copies. “There is a lot of stuff that was cut out. So we have these two people pouring out of a keg, and there was a sequence of them arguing with the owner on how they have the freedom to pour it when ultimately they are going to pay up— this part.”
TOBY
What do you mean we aren’t entitled?
OWNER
I said you’re not!
The owner angrily snatched the glass out of his hands. Toby looks surprised.
“There we go. But the thing is they are out. You can look over the script, of course.”
“Heh, yeah.”
Irene walked over to the tiny setup at the far end of the room, where a green screen was casually draped over the wall, and it extended onto the floor. She turned on the lights, and walked into the frame. The stationary camera engages.
“Right here.” She stared up the top-left of the camera’s field-of-view. “Toby can stare up at the eye of God, and then God can smack him down with a ‘no’.”
“Who’s playing God, again?”
“Nathan. Pretty sure it’s Nathan.” Irene walked off the set back to the table.
“He should be in the booth about a week after we wrap this up. Get him next to the microphone, and ask him to use that deep voice to really bring it home.”
“Let’s just add this in the digital copy." Irene's line rang up. "Sorry."
Ricky sat back down and fumbled with his laptop while the director talked in the corner.
“Hey.” A female voice rang in her earpiece.
“Hey, Angel. Hope you and Alex are safe. I just checked, and both of your absences are excused.” Irene looked off at her co-worker. “I don’t think I should be here anyway, considering what’s happening?”
“Yeah, this is why we are, um, calling you.” Irene froze. “You should go home. I don’t think the shoot’s happening.”
“Carl is in. Just leftover scraps. Couple voice lines he needed to fix.” She looked at the door to the recording room. “I’ll be home soon. Don’t worry.”
“That’s great, watch this though.”
A white bar interjected itself from the top of the phone call screen.
Angel sent you a news snippet
President Johnson Declares State of Emergency For California
“Did you see it?”
“Yes.”
“Okay— I’ll wait here while you watch.”
The mic auto-muted and the video auto-played.
The same lengthy and heavy speech by the President once again rang through the room. Irene’s hand shook, and she helped herself to the cup of coffee and popped a few tranquilizer capsules before she was taken away by her own body again. She stabilized, the video stopped, and Angel’s voice returned to her earpiece.
“Are you going home soon, Irene? We have a lot of stuff— maybe you and Kevin can come and crash at our place— Alex won’t mind, I won’t mind. We stocked up on a lot of snacks, maybe you’ll like them— Are you coming? We can all weather this together for the time being.”
“Hold on one minute, Angel.” She turned to Ricky, pointed to the film with her left arm stretched out, then dragged two fingers of her right hand across her neck as a gesture.
Ricky pointed to his mouth before stopping it to wait for her response. Irene nodded.
“Me and Ricky will be grabbing lunch. Are you up?”
“Alex!” Irene heard her calling for her lover. Her voice returned after a few seconds.
Angel decided to share her voice with you. Her sentences may be processed and has been boosted in volume.
“Irene says she’s going for lunch with Ricky. Should we go?”
“The script supervisor? But it’s 9:40.”
“Yes.”
“That depends on what we’re eating.”
Irene looked at Ricky again.
“Mexican. I don’t know about their breakfast menus.”
“Is Mexican food okay with you guys? We’ll go pick up a few burrito wraps and I’ll come up. Ricky, you can go home after that if you like.”
“Great! I’ll arrange the address— Oh, oh! Would Kev like to have brunch with us— I’ll go snap his line in.”
The call display added in Kevin’s ID and he picked up soon after.
“So how’s the gang doing—“
“Did you go to work today?” Irene asked him. “I didn’t know and I just stumbled on there. Almost no one is here today, and I’m stuck in the office fixing a last couple things.”
The screen turned to show a party planner featuring a slew of start times and arrangements.
Brunch for 10 am
Party of 5 - You, Ricky Hefner, Angel Vernon, Alex Fritz, and Kevin Chase
What you’re seeing currently is different from theirs - Look at their display
Your Way There
Leave now and you’ll be there in around 15 minutes
Summary
Maple Avenue to Irvine City
94.1 miles - 48 minutes
Arrive by the next 6 minutes
9:18 am
Sync Metro California
Special Coach
Light BLUE Line Stop 7
Los Angeles City
Three stops
Shorter route blocked today as trains cannot pass Anaheim Central under any circumstances
1 Arrive at Stop 8 - Riverside Intersection Point - estimated 9:23
2 Switch to Purple Line and get to Corona City Stop 12 - estimated 9:42
3 Arrive at Irvine Intersection Point Stop 13 - estimated 9:55
Leave Irvine Intersection Point via Exit 13A City Center
Estimated 9:57 am
Arrive at Uncle Tommy’s Mexican Kitchen - Suggested location
Estimated 10:00 am
"Do we have a plan?” Kevin got a bit of a kick out of it.
“Is Uncle Tommy fine with all of you?”
“That’s what we got.” Alex added himself to the conversation. “Check the ratings, Kev.”
“It says here that it’s 86% and it starts at around $15.”
“Wait, what is the $15 item?” Angel was too focused on the pre-drawn route to check herself.
“Some disgusting cheese and lettuce taco that looks like it’s made out of wet newspaper. Here, check it out.”
The five people gagged at the rather awful-looking meal.
“Something else…?”