The Director

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: April 20, 2018

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Submitted: April 20, 2018

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“I’ve seen a lot of things in my lifetime,” the sheriff says with a nod. “But this has to be the most messed of them all.”

At the feet of the sheriff lies the mangled corpse of a child, barbed wire running down and out of his nose like mucus. The stench of decay fills the cabin.

“Let’s take a look in the basement.”

He slowly approaches the basement, the clinking of chains coming from within.

“Deputy Carl.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You can go in first.”

Very slowly but surely, he begins to open the door to the now-silent basement, but in the last second he steps back, pulling the gun from his holster.

“No, Sheriff, I insist that you do the honors.”

The sheriff slowly approaches the basement once more, carefully lifting the lid until a wrinkly claw wraps his ankle, pulling him down to his death. “I fucking told you to go down these fucking steps first!”

The heavy metal riff of a little known band plays in the background, and the actors walk off of the set.

“Cut! Great work, people! Funny scene!”

Jerry walks off of the set, a crew of ghost writers mucking about behind him.

“Sir, that was not a funny scene!”

“You need to let us do our job, no, your job!”

He ignores them for just a bit more, until finally exploding out a verbal barrage of obscenities. Well, that’s what he intends to do, but a simple phrase of two words do well in substituting them.

“Fuck. You!” Storming out to his car, he heads out to the mansion. “Fucking ‘ghost writers’, he mutters as he speeds off in his gorgeous sports car. “Keep telling me how to do my job…”

His thoughts are interrupted by one of the tires of his car popping, and the car flips and tosses about until landing upside down in a ditch, a fallen tree branch impaling his stomach. “Holy fuck!”

“Cut!”

He jolts back to reality, and a strikingly familiar film director walks onto the set. “That’s not your line, you fucking twat! Alright, one more try, everyone!”

 


© Copyright 2018 Zach Reynoldson. All rights reserved.

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