I'm not even paying attention. It doesn't matter. What could this amount to besides maybe a headache? I see everything that's in front of me moving around. Those scary eyes. The talking. The resets. I can see those lips moving and pausing. I can't help but think that I'll be having sex with her tonight. This isn't what I came here for. The producers are surprised, up in a little room with their spit-coffee and reflections bouncing off glass and then back again off of their shiny heads. A confrontation somehow turned into an outdated experiment. Some people say a lie is a lie is a lie. Whatever it takes not to listen. That would pull the plug on the whole deal. I'm not in charge. I have to answer to my boss. He whispers a foreign language that my brain translates into simple urges. Keeping in mind everything that's in front of me, moving around. The resistance causes less dizziness if you stay as close to the center as possible. Not wanting to cause a scene amongst the absence of extras, I wear expression #57, with tone #2 and body language #19. It's having the expected effect. Audio is fading in as an interesting man begins to speak to me, the right half of a whole. He says he's rewritten the bible twice, speaking mostly in rhymes. He won’t stop talking and the booming voice in my earpiece is threatening to reveal itself.
We lose audio and a hush falls over the studio audience as the little blonde girl and the lanky white kid exit the scene, walking down the street, like they did last week.
No comments:
Post a Comment