sighed.
“What’s the matter?!” She poked the script again. “Her beauty is
muted
and appearances don’t concern her?! And you ask me
what’s the
matter
?!”
“There’s no need to raise your voice, Anushka. I keep my voice at a very low level and my communication skills are heralded from Burbank to Mar Vista.”
“But why am I just getting this rewrite this morning, Max? Didn’t you say we’d get it last night to look over?”
“I did, but the writer wanted to burn the midnight oil so it would be perfect before any of you read it.”
Corliss, who was standing nearby with a big dollop of zinc oxide on
her
nose, knew this was a big lie. She was amazed Max could tell it without flinching. His behavior so far today did not bode well for the daily job evaluation she’d promised herself. Not to mention the Trent and Tanya experience the night before, which still made her feel dirty.
Anushka put her hand on her hip and looked Max straight in the eye. “By ‘the writer,’ do you mean that dude with the raccoon eyes?”
“Anushka,” said Max in his most condescending whisper, “that’s not respectful. The writer’s name is—is—”
“Petey,” Corliss chimed in, rescuing Max.
“Whatever his name is,” said Anushka, poking the script like it was someone she really didn’t like, “I am
not
going to say lines like ‘I have a special surprise, Travis!’—barf—and ‘Let’s hang out and do homework!’ I don’t play characters who do homework.”
“I understand,” said Tanya. She was standing nearby in a fierce yellow bikini that could be blown off with one sneeze. “Characters who have homework don’t ever seem to have as much fun as characters like my character, Tessa, who doesn’t even seem to go to school much.”
“Exactly,” said Anushka, looking Tanya up and down and then inspecting her own costume. “And why am I wearing a burlap sack, Max, when everybody knows my character Alecia is h-o-t-t hot? I should be wearing a bikini so small it makes Tanya’s electric yellow butt floss look like an evening gown!”
Max then turned to Corliss with a helpless look in his eyes.
Seeing it, Corliss had a startling insight.
Oh my God, under all that bluster, Max is just a lost little boy. One of the deeply troubled Hollywood people Uncle Ross told me about! How can I resist helping anyone with such a big case of arrested development? I’ll help him through this, but then set firm parameters—just like I did with Legend.
Corliss pulled Max aside and thought fast. When she told Trent and Tanya how fabulous and important they were, they were putty in her hands. “Appeal to her ego, Max. Tell Anushka that because she’s
so
well-known and
so
supremely talented, her audience wants to see something new from her on
The ’Bu
.”
“Huh,” Max said as he considered this.
“Or, you know, just tell her she’s so hot, she could make a pee-pee stained baby blanket look good.”
“Corliss, that’s completely gross.”
“Sorry, I’m just riffing here…”
“But your first suggestion is right on the money. These actors think they are expressing themselves, but they are really people suffering from—from—”
“Narcissistic injuries,” Corliss said.
“Exactly. I have to pretend each one is the center of the universe when in fact
I
am the center.”
“Uh, something like that, Max, yeah.”
“Corliss, if you keep up this kind of painful brilliance, you might very well end up as a
paid
assistant. Minimum wage, of course.”
Corliss saw her opening. She took a big breath, resolved to clarify exactly what her job entailed. “Max, I do think it’s time we set firm parameters about what exactly—”
Max made a close signal with his hand. Corliss obediently shut her mouth.
“The thing is, Anushka,” said Max, suddenly directing again, “this role is going to be a stretch for you. It is the shock of the unexpected! The 180 hairpin turn that leaves audiences breathless. They
“What’s the matter?!” She poked the script again. “Her beauty is
muted
and appearances don’t concern her?! And you ask me
what’s the
matter
?!”
“There’s no need to raise your voice, Anushka. I keep my voice at a very low level and my communication skills are heralded from Burbank to Mar Vista.”
“But why am I just getting this rewrite this morning, Max? Didn’t you say we’d get it last night to look over?”
“I did, but the writer wanted to burn the midnight oil so it would be perfect before any of you read it.”
Corliss, who was standing nearby with a big dollop of zinc oxide on
her
nose, knew this was a big lie. She was amazed Max could tell it without flinching. His behavior so far today did not bode well for the daily job evaluation she’d promised herself. Not to mention the Trent and Tanya experience the night before, which still made her feel dirty.
Anushka put her hand on her hip and looked Max straight in the eye. “By ‘the writer,’ do you mean that dude with the raccoon eyes?”
“Anushka,” said Max in his most condescending whisper, “that’s not respectful. The writer’s name is—is—”
“Petey,” Corliss chimed in, rescuing Max.
“Whatever his name is,” said Anushka, poking the script like it was someone she really didn’t like, “I am
not
going to say lines like ‘I have a special surprise, Travis!’—barf—and ‘Let’s hang out and do homework!’ I don’t play characters who do homework.”
“I understand,” said Tanya. She was standing nearby in a fierce yellow bikini that could be blown off with one sneeze. “Characters who have homework don’t ever seem to have as much fun as characters like my character, Tessa, who doesn’t even seem to go to school much.”
“Exactly,” said Anushka, looking Tanya up and down and then inspecting her own costume. “And why am I wearing a burlap sack, Max, when everybody knows my character Alecia is h-o-t-t hot? I should be wearing a bikini so small it makes Tanya’s electric yellow butt floss look like an evening gown!”
Max then turned to Corliss with a helpless look in his eyes.
Seeing it, Corliss had a startling insight.
Oh my God, under all that bluster, Max is just a lost little boy. One of the deeply troubled Hollywood people Uncle Ross told me about! How can I resist helping anyone with such a big case of arrested development? I’ll help him through this, but then set firm parameters—just like I did with Legend.
Corliss pulled Max aside and thought fast. When she told Trent and Tanya how fabulous and important they were, they were putty in her hands. “Appeal to her ego, Max. Tell Anushka that because she’s
so
well-known and
so
supremely talented, her audience wants to see something new from her on
The ’Bu
.”
“Huh,” Max said as he considered this.
“Or, you know, just tell her she’s so hot, she could make a pee-pee stained baby blanket look good.”
“Corliss, that’s completely gross.”
“Sorry, I’m just riffing here…”
“But your first suggestion is right on the money. These actors think they are expressing themselves, but they are really people suffering from—from—”
“Narcissistic injuries,” Corliss said.
“Exactly. I have to pretend each one is the center of the universe when in fact
I
am the center.”
“Uh, something like that, Max, yeah.”
“Corliss, if you keep up this kind of painful brilliance, you might very well end up as a
paid
assistant. Minimum wage, of course.”
Corliss saw her opening. She took a big breath, resolved to clarify exactly what her job entailed. “Max, I do think it’s time we set firm parameters about what exactly—”
Max made a close signal with his hand. Corliss obediently shut her mouth.
“The thing is, Anushka,” said Max, suddenly directing again, “this role is going to be a stretch for you. It is the shock of the unexpected! The 180 hairpin turn that leaves audiences breathless. They
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