[RODNEY RANDY, a buff bald-headed man, stares at a door that says “Stage 12.” He knocks, hesitantly, and hears the sound of shuffling feet and locks unclicking. KYLIE ANDERSON, indie film director (wire-rimmed glasses, flannel, and all), opens the door. She eyes him skeptically.]
RANDY: I'm so sorry, my phone was on the fritz. I drove in circles for around -
KYLIE: You weren't supposed to be here until nine. You always come so early?
[Randy is offended.]
RANDY: No, I don't. Not once in my professional career.
KYLIE: Well, it's good that you did. We set up early too.
*[Kylie goes inside, and Randy follows behind her. The set is a small, humble livingroom – the kind you see in sitcoms – and a professional looking film crew stands in front of it, fiddling with equipment. A pretty, blonde girl is sitting on the prop dining chair with make-up artists all around her.] *
KYLIE: I'm assuming the agent already sent you the script, right?
RANDY: Yes, I know all of my lines.
KYLIE: Good, good. So, you're going to enter the room – look at Camera One – and deliver your monologue. Okay?
[Randy nods, hesitantly.]
KYLIE: I want to see passion. This woman *broke your heart. * The words shouldn't just come out, they should come out hot and fiery, l-like General Tso's chicken. Can you give me that? Can you give me General Tso's Chicken?
RANDY: Sure, yeah, whatever. When do I pound her?
KYLIE: Ah, yes, I was getting to that. Immediately after she responds to your monologue, you go in hard. The cinematographer is going to pay up the angles, so don't actually hurt her, of course. Then the child -
RANDY: What about the velociraptor costume?
KYLIE: The what?
RANDY: You know, the costume I'm wearing.
KYLIE: Are you trying to be funny?
[Randy looks at her with a dumb, perplexed look. Then nods forcefully.]
RANDY: Right, yeah, I'm stupid. You're probably just going to CGI it on or somethi-
KYLIE: Shut up and get behind the door. Cameras roll in a minute.
[Randy nods, and gets behind the door. He starts undressing down to his bare 9 inch dick, out of view of everyone else, while Kylie Anderson barks orders.]
RANDY: (whisper to himself) Is it, “time to jurassic fuck” or “jurassic fuck time”? Shit, I should have asked to look at the script one more time. Shit.
KYLIE: Okay Brock, you're on in three seconds.
RANDY: (whisper to himself) Brock?
[Randy puts his hand on the door, and it flies open. The lights, the cameras, the eyes of the director – all are focused on him.]
RANDY: HEY BABY, IT'S TIME TO FURASSIC JERK.
[The camera crew is silent. Kylie Anderson is watching with her mouth ajar. His beautiful, blonde coactress is completely stunned. Randy has his hands up and his dong hanging out in front of him in a typical “witness me” pose. Awkward silence.]
RANDY: Fuck, I said my line wrong, didn't –
KYLIE: WHY. ARE. YOU. *FUCKING NAKED?***
[Silence. Randy looks around confused, his hands now down. He coughs.]
RANDY: This is – uh – this is Jurassic Fuck 3: Rise of the Velocicocktor right?
[Kylie leans back in her chair with a blank stare, and her mouth open. Several members of the camera crew start to burst out laughing. Even the coactress is laughing. Randy sighs heavily amid the laughter,.]
Randy: I'll just – uh – go out the backdoor then. Sorry to trouble y'all.
[Randy bolts out the room, still naked, and Kylie Anderson starts crying.]
KYLIE: This was my life's work! It's all gone now!