Lake Stab (TG Horror Stories) (Incomplete)

[fakenameyfakenamey]

Hey all!

I am a bit new to this forum, but wanted to share the stories I've been posting on deviantart here. You're welcome to browse my gallery there...

I'd like to start posting the sections from my ongoing series, "Stab Lake" here. I love feedback!

Stab Lake is TG Horror. Some chapters have more horror, some chapters have more TG.

I hope you enjoy! It starts with the Opening Scene TG.

[fakenameyfakenamey]

Opening Scene TG

The priest approached the bed. He knew this was going to be the climax. They had exhausted all other options?medical science and prayer alone were not enough.

He had to exorcise the demon from Samuel Proctor, before it was too late.

As he opened the door, and walked in, he knew he would win. He could feel the armor of god protecting him. No matter what the demon threw at him, he would make it out of that room alive.

He grasped the handle of the door without hesitation. It was freezing cold, and opened with a long, slow screech. The smell of rotting fish seeped out.

Rain and wind blasted against the window. A flash of light?and then thunder.

From Samuel's bed came whimpers. The priest turned and looked down at the bed. It was hard to see the boy in the darkness, but from what he could see, Samuel lay on the bed upside down. The priest could not see the boy's face. Despite this, he wanted to reassure the boy. "Samuel, it is time."

Only whimpers, and another flash of lightning. The door slammed shut.

"Samuel, I'm going to begin now," the priest said, stepping forward. A branch slammed against the window. It cracked. Rain began to drip in through the cracks.

"Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on us," the priest said.

Thump. Thump. Thump. The bed slammed against the wall.

"Thy kingdom come, thy will be done."

Hisssss. The priest turned to the window and looked down. The rain that had crept in through the window had turned to snakes. Looking down, he could see them slithering to him.

The priest thought three things:

First:

Wow, those are really good special effects.

And then:

They are just an illusion, I need not be afraid.

And finally:

I mean, in the context of the movie, my character believes they are just an illusion. I should show no fear.

He turned back to Samuel, intent to carry on with the ritual, illusions be damned.

"On Earth as it is in heaven," the priest said, holding his bible above the boy.

Samuel rolled over on the bed, but the priest did not see Samuel.

He saw a pale woman, with soft cheeks and lowered eyes. Her head was covered with a white scarf. A blue shawl covered her shoulders, and red silk covered her demure body and petite breasts.

The woman spoke: "Come, father. Bow down to me. You can see there is no demon here. It is only I--"

"NO!" the priest screamed. Lightning flashed again. In the back of his mind: knock it off with the lightning, guys. It's starting to get campy. Well, campier, anyway. But it gave him time to get a quick breath, so he could bellow his next few lines: "Do not speak the words! Do not defile her name! You are NOT the Virgin Mary!"

She grinned, her lips turning redder with each passing moment. The priest couldn't let her delay him more... he did not feel the armor of god weakening, but this being before him grew stronger as the boy's health faded. If the beast devoured Samuel's soul completely, there would be nothing he could do.

"Give us this day, our daily bread..." It was like the girl on Samuel's skin was being covered in honey. Was her neck growing longer? Her lips were certainly gaining volume. I thought we were going to add these effects in post-production... how are they even doing this?

"And forgive us our trespasses..." The white scarf vanished, and her hair formed into layered tresses.

"As we forgive those who trespass against us..." The blue scarf sank into the bed, and the fabric of her dress began to roll up. This is amazing, I really need to shake Bobby's hand after this is all done.

"Lord Jesus Christ!" The dress formed into a strapless black bra. It looked like her skin was covered in moisture, the type of eggshell composure you'd see in some well-done photoshop.

The lighting flash and thunder distracted him, so he stood his ground said it again: "LORD JESUS CHRIST!" Hopefully the writers don't whine about the repetition.

"Because he hopes in you, my God!" He could watch the breasts growing before his eyes. A dark shadow crossed her smoothly curved eyes.

She spoke: "Don't you mean, 'she hopes in you,' priest?"

"Send him help from the holy place, Lord!" It is still Samuel I am praying for.

"Look at me," the woman said, sliding forward on the bed. "Isn't it time YOU confess, father? You want me, don't you." She jutted her chest out, giving them jazz hands to boot.

"Give him heavenly protection!" He had to maintain the prayer. His hands already reaching for the holy water.
The snakes hissed at his feet. He glanced down for but a moment, and when he saw them, he could see they were real. Really real.

"Back!" he snapped at them. "The grace of God protects me!"

They slithered around him. Screams filled the room, a high-pitched girls scream. It felt as though the room were spinning, and suddenly the lightning wasn't just flashes of light. Strobe lights: pulsating from the window, throbbing with a hum in each moment. It was trying to drown him out.

He could see less and less of the young man Samuel before him. The priest looked at her on the bed; he could only barely make out her face, her eyes glowing red. Another flash of light, and another pulse. Now she was standing before him?but in each moment, it seemed she was standing still. Another flash of light, and another pulse. She was nose to nose. He could not but stare into her deep, dark eyes.

"May the Lord be with you," the priest said. It was barely a whisper.

Her mouth opened, jaws bearing wide. She screamed, and he could feel the spittle blasting into his face, smell the stench of vomit. It looked like she could eat him.

He was crying?he didn't know when, but he was crying?and he sobbed: "And with your spirit."

And then he fell to the ground, his body shaking.

It was like the room had been set on fire. The snakes slid up onto his chest, staring down into his face. And then, as he watched, they erupted in flames, and then instantly smouldered into dust.

It looked as though the walls were on fire, the bed burning.

And there before him, standing, shaking, was the young man: Samuel Proctor.

He wanted to call out?come to me, my boy. That was the line. But he couldn't muster it, he could only pant, whimpering really.

His hand reached out for the boy, and as the pillows exploded behind them, the boy took his hand.

And he felt human. The demon was gone.

The room went black.

He could feel the boy holding on, gripping him tight.

And then the room lit up and someone cheered.

The boy and the priest remained on the ground, holding each others' hands, while a clap filled the room around them. When the room had been filled with shadows, he could not see it all: the mics, the lighting equipment, or even the honest-to-god film (read: not digital) camera they'd shipped in the week before just for this scene.

The lighting guy and the rain guy helped the priest to his feet. He felt dazed; weak. Something turned off, and he could feel the armor of god receding from his body. No longer a priest.

"Michael!" His name was Michael Forestor. Actor. And then he thought: The exorcism is complete.

"James!" The young boy's name was James Atwill. Actor. And then he thought: The exorcism was a success.

"Where's Bobby," Michael heard himself saying. "Those snakes creeped me right the Hell out."

"Dude that wasn't even me! It was all lighting!"

"Lighting?" the lighting guys asked. "I thought it was animatronics."

Everyone was laughing. Michael felt nervous. "No, really, Bobby," Michael said, trying to push away from the crowd of shaking hands. "How did you do those effects? How did you make James seem to be a woman? How did you make him transform before my eyes?"

"Mikey, Mikey... the films over! We're done! Cut with the drama, brother!" Bobby shoved a beer into Michael's hand.

"That's a wrap!" the director called from "the hallway."

"But... but..."

Michael didn't really care about the effects, actually. He wanted that feeling back. The feeling of having the armor of God.

He turned to James. They'd shoved a beer into his hands too, and then he'd sat on the bed. Suddenly everyone was leaving him alone, backing away, having their own chats. The movie was over. It had been a long shoot, and a long shoot on a low budget meant a lot of work for a little pay. They wanted to get drunk.

Michael walked over to James, James who had turned into a woman before his eyes, and sat on the bed beside him. He could still smell the smoke in the air from the exploding bed. "James..." he whispered. Here, sitting with him, he could feel the sense of being the priest again. Here, sitting right in front of the camera, right where everything was pointed.

For a moment, Michael wondered how James felt. If I could feel God's armor when we were shooting, what did James feel? "James, how did they do it?" Michael asked. "How did they do all the special effects in one take? I thought we were doing everything in post production."

James turned and looked up at him with those big, beady eyes that had won him the role in the first place. There was a hint of tears in those eyes. "We won, right?" the boy whispered. "Did we win?"

At first Michael wanted to ask: Did we win what? But then it was all too clear. The boy had felt it too... the boy had been it.

"Yes," Michael said, wrapping his arm around the boy. "We won."

[frice2000]

I wouldn't say this is a 'tg story' really. Sure it had a transformation in it but not really a TG story not enough exploration of that. However, it was a very well written little short story. Quite nicely told and very nicely vivid. Great work. I look forward to seeing what else you do in the future. I'll definitely be checking out your DA account.

[fakenameyfakenamey]

Originally Posted by frice2000

I wouldn't say this is a 'tg story' really. Sure it had a transformation in it but not really a TG story not enough exploration of that. However, it was a very well written little short story. Quite nicely told and very nicely vivid. Great work. I look forward to seeing what else you do in the future. I'll definitely be checking out your DA account.

Yeah I know the TG elements in the first section weren't too drawn out, but the series as a whole builds the themes and structures of transformation at much greater length and detail. I'd love to hear what you think of the other sections in it.

[fakenameyfakenamey]

Here's the next chapter:

Audition TG
http://fakenameyfakenamey.deviantart...n-TG-188793134

"Ever seen 'Stab Lake'?" Julian asked.

"No, what is that, some pun on 'Swan Lake'?" I asked.

"No, it's not. I'm glad you haven't, Alex. We're taking auditions for the remake, and the rule is that no one in a lead roll has seen the original movie."

"On what budget?" I asked. "Last time I checked you were stealing toilet paper rolls from public restrooms so you wouldn't die from lack of toilet paper."

"Didn't you hear man? We won the contest from International Studios! They're giving us five grand, equipment, and the rights to shoot at the ORIGINAL Camp Stab!"

"So what, this is gonna be a slasher?"

"Kinda," Julian said. "So you really know nothing about the movie?"

"Nah. Listen, I guess I'll think about it. You just gotta promise me something."

"Yeah, what's that?" Julian asked.

I said, "I am gonna make you guys sign it in print: I want to be the one that says 'Get outta there!'"

"What makes you think that's a line in the movie?"

"Dude," I said, betraying my Californiaese, "You gotta say 'get outta there.' It's the rule."

"Whatever you say, Alex. I'll see you at the theater at 5:30!"

________


I suppose before agreeing to audition, I should have asked what part I should be auditioning for. Or to see the script. I suppose I just naturally assumed I was going to be "Guy victim #3." I didn't really think it would matter what role I was auditioning for. If I wanted to be involved in the production, I would be. Julian needed all the help he could get, and with a budget of five grand to make a feature length film, he needed people who would work cheap. Half the time in jobs like this, you ended up half-producer, half-actor.

During the afternoon, I work tutoring athletes. As it was, I got a text from the defensive line telling me they "have to cancel; hungry." AKA practice had run over and they hadn't received their vital nutrients of the day.

So, I decided to go to the audition a little early. I hopped on my two-wheeler (yeah, I ride a bike... the pedal-powered kind) and headed down to the Monroe Theater.

Julian's dad's Camaro was in the lot, as were a few others... some I didn't recognize. Man, a measly 5k budget and suddenly everyone wants a piece of the "action." Yeah, it's better than a no-budget, but come on!

A couple guys in trench-coats (it was 95 out) were leaning against the back doors. Campers. "Hey guys, I really dig the 'columbine' look!" I absolutely didn't say. After all, you never knew about guys in coats. Maybe they really were about to go Columbine, and were just waiting for someone to call 'em on it.

So I walked around to the front door and let myself in. God bless staff keys. I've worked the ticket booth enough the manager just gave it to me one day after a showing of Waiting for Godot.

Voices were coming from the auditorium. I knew the deal. The director and the producers and the whips would sit on the stage, the lead actors would sit in the front row, and everyone else would scatter in rows 2-5, or further back if they were doing homework, sleeping, or drunk. Sometimes rehearsals could go long.

But this was pre-production, so it should only be... well, the people making the casting decisions.

I went through the side doors to the backstage. I could open the door here and listen without them seeing. That's what I could do. But I was going to one-up myself, and sneak onto the stage and look at them while they talked to.

Off came my shoes, as I slipped open the door and slid behind a fake tombstone.

There was Julian, with his back to me. I could tell by his long, silky-black mullet. I guess somewhere in his mind he always wanted to be John Stamos.

"Damn it," Julian said, turning to a young man standing in on the stage. "Aaron, listen. We want to make money with this, we gotta be SAYING or DOING something, you feel me? Besides, if we stick to the story of the original movie--"

Aaron--he was one of the popular writers on campus. His play about surfer cannibalism did very well last year. He had curly, dirty-blonde hair and huge, thick glasses, and his left hand had a tendency to shake violently while he spoke. He also was the only person that could get away with calling Julian "Juli" for short.

"Yeah, I feel you, I really do," Aaron said. "You wanna make waves for the mainstream. That's cool--the problem is, the chances of us ACTUALLY getting known are slim to none. If you want to be GUARANTEED to make money, make the campiest, goriest, straight-up slasher flick. It's not like the studio is REALLY going to release this in theaters--they didn't promise that. The point of the festival was to advertise International Films. Just because we won doesn't mean anything--five grand is junk to them. If we--all of us in this room--want to make any money on this, we should direct is straight to DVD, and get it in blockbusters, netflix, all the direct to video stuff. At least there's a real audience for that. I'm telling you, we get a big-breasted girl who can scream as the lead, and we will be set. People will watch it, just because they looked at the cover and said, 'yeah, I want to see her die in a strange, sadistic way.'"

"Come on!" Julian snapped. "Haven't you even seen the original movie? Stab Lake did NOT have a bimbo for the lead role--and it is a CULT CLASSIC!"

"Yeah, okay, I get that too." Aaron was pacing now--and there went his hand, shakeashakeashakea. Julian twirled his mullet. Then, Aaron kicked the stage and spun around, pointing. "Yeah, but this ain't the 80s, brah! You know what happens with every passing decade? The lead characters graduate one letter up! A to B to C to D, man! You didn't see no Sarah Michelle Gellars in lead roles, I tell you that. They were all flat chicks, Jamie-Lee and Sigourney Weaver."

"What are you talking about," Julian muttered, standing up himself now. He tended to point at the ceiling in conversations like this. "Jennifer Love Hewitt looked totally flat in I Know What You Did Last Summer."

"What are YOU talking about!" Aaron was nearly screaming now. "Dude, Jennifer Love Hewitt is f'n racked! Are you HIGH?!?"

"Ahem." This came from a guy I didn't recognize in the audience. White dress shirt, a tie picturing Starry Night, and a Josh Harnett haircut. I might have thought he was Josh Harnett, except he looked younger.

"James! Spit it out!" Julian shouted down. James? I looked at the guy again. Was that... James Atwill? The kid from EXORCISM? I knew he'd been around but... wow, seeing him in person.

"Why not just make it a totally open casting call," James said. "Guy, girl, whatever. Whoever plays the part the best, they get the role, we work from there."

"Ack!" Aaron sounded like he was choking. "Come on guys, I want to make a serious, legitimate B movie here. I can't believe you two are even CONSIDERING casting a GUY as the LAST GIRL!"

What the Hell? Is that what Julian wanted ME to audition for? To be THE LAST GIRL?!?

"I mean, come on Julian," Aaron said. For the first time since I'd known him, both of Aaron's hands were visibly shaking. "I know you want your buddy Alex to be in the movie, but we can find another role for him! I mean, come on, there's no way that casting a tall white guy as a chick isn't going to turn this SLASHER into a damn COMEDY!"

Julian laughed and turned to the audience. "Karen, you gonna let him talk 'bout you like that?"

Karen was the costume girl. She tended to sit a few rows back so I couldn't even see her, since they were just using stage lights. When she spoke, her voice tended to go the opposite of where you'd expect it to go; it gets higher when it should get lower, gets lower when it should get higher. Still, I think her voice is cute: "Julian asked me if I had the skill to make a tall guy look like a hot chick. I took it as a personal challenge. I've seen Alex, and I bet I could make him smexy."

Now wait a minute here, I thought. I'm smexy now! I'm a smexy guy! I'm tall, yeah, I'm white, yeah, and I got a goatee. I'm a smexy guy, but I don't know how I could be a smexy girl. I was tempted to agree with Aaron. Casting me as a girl would make the movie a comedy. Now there's nothing wrong with that--I would love to be the star in a comedy. Even a cross-dressing comedy. It worked wonders for Jack Lemmon. But, deep down, something in me knew that EVERYONE in this room wanted to make a slasher film. Including Karen. Especially Karen, actually. Damn that girl loved splatter effects.

"And you know," Julian said, trying to go in for his killing blow, "men have acted as women on stage for CENTURIES. Every Juliet in R&J for hundreds of years was played by a boy. Shakespeare, man. And you know, F. Scott Fitzgerald played a convincing woman in his own day as well."

"Yeah," Aaron said, "but you're saying that Alex is as good an actor as all that. I mean, come on. When we say Julian can sell tickets, we mean at the front door--not because he's the one on the stage or the posters. None of us really thinks he could do Shakespeare, do we?"

Oh. Oh no he di - n't. This just got real.

I slipped back to my shoes, didn't care if they could hear the door close behind me. Aaron just convinced me. I was going to audition for this part. And I was going to ROCK THE HELL OUT OF IT.

______

There were a couple of problems here though. First of all, I was going to be going up against, you know, actual women. I was absolutely sure some of the theater and film regulars were going to be turning out for this audition no matter what, just to be screamers or victim #5. Then, there were the guys... but I had one up on them. They were probably like me ten minutes ago. They didn't know they were auditioning for the part of a girl.

Unfortunately, there was Jared. A few years ago he'd been an emo/scene kid, and now I was pretty sure he was gay. I mean, homogay. I mean, whatever. Anyway, I could see him sitting on the stairs by Fey Hall, smoking a cigar. He was wearing black dress pants and his hair was slicked back. I didn't know what he was going for, but, being not-hetero, I was worried he'd be on even ground with me.

I needed to come up with something, and fast. As soon as anyone that wanted the part would hear "slasher" they'd probably assume they needed to be a screamer. If this all came down to a scream, I wasn't going to get a chance to show acting at all. In a contest against girls, that just wouldn't do.

I needed to be a different sort of woman. Maybe I should take my pants off? That could work!

No, that was a terrible idea. I slapped myself. It hurt, but I deserved it.

I tried to think back. What did film theory say?

I could remember back to five hours ago, when I was in P. Clover's film theory class. What did she say. "A figure does not cry and cower because she is a woman; she is a woman because she cries and cowers." The more I thought about it, the more I realized Clover was a total genius. If I was a zombie, I would go for her brain first, cause that was the good stuff.

It's like, the first girl in Scream. What's the whole point of her? It's that she DOESN'T scream... cause she gets her lungs stabbed. But the same thing is in like every movie. It's the (lol) Scream Fail that makes the top-billed girl the top-billed girl.

I needed to master the Scream Fail. I had ten minutes to do so.

The tricky part, as I instantaneously found out, was that it was really hard to make it come off as a scream, and not as simply a gasp. I knew it still needed to sort of be a scream. If I did a low-pitched scream, it just sounded really fakey and hokey.

I ran past Jared, up into Fey Hall, and into the first floor guy's bathroom. There, I began practicing, as best as I could, the scream fail. It was harder than I could have possibly expected.

Maybe if I got to the underlying principle, it would make sense... I tried to imagine the point of a scream fail. All I could think of was sex. So then I tried to think of a woman thinking of sex. And that's when I got it.

Michael Jackson.

All at once, I spun around, spread my legs, reached behind my butt, grabbed my balls, and pulled backward. Then, I let out my most-Michael failscream.

Oh, the sound of my failed scream was pure ecstacy to my ears. I knew it. I had this part DOWN.

I kissed my fingers and raised them to the air (technically the ceiling of the bathroom but whatever) and said in my best falsetto: "Thank you, MJ."

______

I walked in right on time. Just like I liked it.

I didn't realize Julian was so punctual--I hadn't even noticed that Jared was gone when I got out of the bathroom. But there he was now, just walking down off the stage. None of the crew seemed too dismayed. Was there any way--did he rock that performance?

No turning back now. I couldn't hold anything back.

"Hey, Alex!" Julian called to me from up on the stage. "Come on down. Listen, since the script is still... 'in flux' let's say... this might not be exactly what we do for the climax in the movie. That's not to say the script won't be done--DONE DONE--very soon. But you know how it is, we gotta get everything going ASAP before school gets out."

"I feel ya," I said, jumping up on the stage. "So, what is this, a blank read?"

"Yeah man. Okay, I'll walk you through it."

Julian walked over to the edge of stage right. "You stand here, okay? And then you say... wait for it... 'No... no... he's right behind you... GET OUTTA THERE!'"

I nodded my approval.

"Then," Julian said, and began to walk backward. "You step back here, and THE VILLAIN is gonna appear there. Now, you trip," he kneeled down on the stage, "and of course, you don't try to get up. Instead, you scramble around, looking for a weapon. You find a box, you throw it at him. Now for the tricky part. You find this camera. You hold it up to him. He pauses. He steps forward with his baton--"

"The killer is gonna use a baton?" I asked. "Like, you mean, like what a cheerleader uses?"

"No, man, use your brain. What a cop uses. The club."

"Oh okay, yeah sorry."

Julian sighed. "Okay, as I was saying..." He hated being interrupted, so much. That's probably why I loved interrupting him. "And he is going to hit you with it, when you run forward and smash it on his head."

I looked on the stage, and there was some ancient film camera. "We're gonna use the real deal for the rehearsel?" I asked.

"Yeah, the studio gave it to us. We were going to shoot everything in digital, I think they gave it to us as a joke."

"I thought you people were FILM majors," I muttered.

"Hey!" Julian snapped. "I didn't say break the damn thing. I'm gonna be the monster, don't REALLY hit me with it! Don't break the camera, OR ME."

"Gotcha."

"Alright," Julian said. "Now, my character is gonna say some stuff, and then you scream."

Son of a--

"I'm ready to go," I said.

Julian shrugged and headed off stage. "Whenever you're ready, Alex."

I walked to where he'd been standing, and took a deep breath, in and out, then tried to shrink down to half my size.

No time to waste. This was it.

I let out my best fail scream, and reached out, struggling--like I'd been hit sometime earlier--and then did another fail scream. MJ didn't have junk on my screams. I panted, and called in a damn good falsetto, if I do say so myself: "No..." I stepped back even now, and followed, "No! HE'S RIGHT BEHIND YOU!" This was a falsetto yell. I tried to keep it well toned; if you give it too much snap you sound like a fruitcake. Really, a lot of heroines are deep-voiced anyway... so really, you can sort of sound like a guy and still do it fine.

I took two more steps back, and Julian stepped on to stage. It was so hard to feel afraid of the mullet. To look away, I stumbled and fell.

There is, of course, an art to falling. And THE LAST GIRL's fall has a special character all it's own. If you're not doing it like Barbara from Night of the Living Dead, you're doing it wrong. It's right foot way forward, left arm up, right knee bends, left leg comes up, full body face forward. I could hear in the background of my life: Flawless faceplant. 100% gold stars.

Now for the scramble. The trick is to first, roll partly over, and then look over your shoulder at the villain. There was Julian, slowly walking toward me. I turned back around, left leg pushing forward, right arm reaching out--grabbing the box left there. I turned and tossed it at him. It didn't make sense, but then that was the point. It was just a distraction.

There, past where the box had been, was the camera. I got up to my knees to grab it.

As I did, I heard a click and a whirl. The damn thing must have turned on. Hopefully I wasn't going to break it, moving it around like this.

I turned back around to face Julian again. This time, I had to face him.

Somehow, in the time it had taken Julian to walk three steps forward, he had managed to become a way better actor. I guess he suddenly decided to try, because now his eyes looked dark and sunken; his body was rigid, stiff. He suddenly looked like a force.

I felt different too. With each step he took toward me, I was making a point to cower. I didn't know how I did it, but as I shuddered before him, it felt like I really was shrinking, like I really was at his mercy. I mean, in a way, I was--the baton, after all, was real. I couldn't even see Julian's mullet any more; suddenly, all I could see were his muscles. Never before this moment had I thought of Julian as tougher than me, but right now, I had no doubt he could beat me to death.

When I held the camera up, I pressed my chest out. To my surprise, this worked much better than I expected. I have no idea how I did it, but it was like my pecs were melting. I really felt like I had boobs pressing out against my shirt. This acting stuff can get psychosomatic, you know what I'm sayin?

Julian read his lines. I never new he could voice act, but his voice was deeper and darker than anything I'd ever heard before.

"Oh, you're going to enjoy living with me so much. I know you are. I've always wanted a little girl... just like you."

The camera was growing heavier in my hands. I was acting less and less. I really was shaking now. And I wasn't thinking of Michael Jackson when the next fail scream came out of my lips.

He was going to take me, and keep me. He was going to make me his little girl.

My mouth opened wide, and I stepped forward, I don't know what sort of sound I was making. But I was bringing the camera down, I was going to stop him. I was going to kill Julian.

Julian's left hand grabbed mine as I came down for the blow. His right hand still held the baton. He stopped me. His palms felt ice cold, and trying to bring the camera down on him was like trying to struggle against a rock. This wasn't what he'd said we were going to do.

Julian was really going to kill me.

Somebody was screaming, and in another moment I realized it was me--but it was the highest-pitched scream I had ever mustered. I didn't even recognize myself.

As I struggled to hit him with the camera--I really was trying now--my finger must have hit the button again. I heard the whirr of sound stop.

Suddenly I was looking into Julian's eyes again, and they were Julian's.

"How the hell did you do that thing with your chest?" he asked, grinning. "Holy hell man, it really looked like you had boobs."

"Dude," I said. "Don't question genius." Especially when I don't have the answers.

Karen called from the audience, "Yeah, I can work with that."

"Did I do better than Jared?" I asked, still in my falsetto voice. I don't know why, I just was having a hard time switching out of it.

"Jared?" Aaron asked, jumping up on the stage. "He wasn't even auditioning for this role. He demanded to be a tough guy or a cop or something."

"How many more people are you gonna audition?" I asked.

"A few more," Julian said. "But hell, they're just girls. You have nothing to worry about." He winked.