“The bruises and broken bones on the stunt crew say different.”
Walter flushed a dark red. “This is pointless,” he said with real heat. “If you’re not here to support me, then go away.” He waved to the security guard. “Don’t make me ban you from the set.”
Bing sighed. He’d overplayed his hand. If he pushed any more now, Walter would have security drag him away. He could take care of a rent-a-cop, but that wouldn’t help his cause.
He stood up and backed away. “I really hope this works out the way you think it will,” he said with sincerity. But of course the doubt was also clear in his tone.
Walter shot him a glare. “You’re such a dick.”
Yeah, he was. He stepped back into the shadows and prepared to watch his best friend fail. There was no way Walter could perform the scene right. He didn’t have the acting skills. But when Bing stepped back, he accidentally bumped into someone who was lurking between a couple of set pieces.
“Sorry,” he muttered, annoyed with himself for not realizing anyone was back there. And now that he looked, he wondered exactly how he had missed him in the first place.
The man was big, dressed in jeans and anI’m with StupidT-shirt. He grinned happily at Bing while he took a sip from his camel backpack. It was beer. Bing could smell it clearly, even without his werewolf nose.
Bing looked around. “Are you with the crew?” He already knew the answer. This guy was a hanger-on, likely a friend or relative of one of the crew.
“Kind of,” he answered. “Hey, can I get a selfie?” He hauled out his cell phone, and Bing reacted out of habit, leaning in and smiling for the camera. Any publicity was good publicity. “You’re supposed to be Red Wolf, right? Instead of that guy?” He gestured to where Walter was getting final touches on his makeup.
“I was the original Red Wolf, yes,” Bing hedged, well aware that this guy’s voice carried like a bullhorn. “Who exactly are you with? Maybe we should step away from the filming.”
“What? Oh yeah, yeah,” he said as Bing ushered him back from the set. “Are you here to get the role back?”
“What? No,” he lied. “I’m here to help out.”
The man eyed him skeptically. “Are you sure? Because that guy doesn’t look like he can handle the job.”
Bing bristled. He didn’t like anyone insulting Walter, even though that was exactly what he’d been thinking a minute ago. “Maybe he’ll surprise you,” he said.
“Doesn’t look like it, but hey, what do I know? I’m just a customer.” Then he laughed really loudly before taking another pull from his beer pack.
“Shhh,” Bing said. “They’re getting ready.” Walter had finished with makeup, and people were taking their places. There was some discussion going on between the director and the DP, but it wouldn’t be long now until the cameras started rolling.
“This is exciting,” the guy said, his voice still booming loud. “I’m Gator, by the way. And this here’s my Gator-aid,” he said as he held out the straw for his beer pack. “Pleased to meet ya,” he chortled as he shoved out his hand nearly straight into Bing’s ribs. Bing took his hand, as much in self-defense as anything else. He shook the man’s meaty fist in a distracted way as he watched what was going on. He’d been on sets his entire adult life, so he knew what to look for. As far as he could tell, everything looked good. Now Walter just needed to perform.
Meanwhile, Gator threw a thick arm around his shoulders. The beer breath was bad, and the acrid body odor was worse, but he couldn’t exactly throw the man off without causing a scene. He tolerated it because at that exact moment, the director snapped, “Action!”
Bing held his breath, leaning forward as he watched the scene unfold. He wanted to be wrong about Walter. He really hoped his friend could pull this off. But when the scene was done, he sighed. “Not good enough,” he whispered. Not bad, he admitted. Certainly better than he’d feared. But Walter hadn’t been up to giving the scene what it required. And worse, everyone, including Walter, knew it.
The director frowned, obviously wondering if he should say something. He didn’t need to. Walter held up his hand.
“Let me try again.”
They did six takes as Walter tried to give a performance he wasn’t trained for. Unfortunately, he hadn’t a clue how to do it, and it showed. Meanwhile, Gator kept up a running commentary low in Bing’s ear. “Oops, he shouldn’t have said it that way. Did he trip? Was that on purpose or really bad acting? Dinner theater is better than this.”
It didn’t matter how many times Bing shushed him, the man kept talking. Bing kept waiting for security to haul the obnoxious ass out, but apparently everyone was too busy doing their jobs. Bing didn’t want to call attention to the situation because he’d likely get tossed out as well, so he kept shushing the man and even murmured a few “Yes, it’s bad,” statements to shut him up. But he also didn’t disagree. The more takes they took, the more desperate and panicked Walter became. His performance was going from bad to worse, and the sweat that glistened on his face was evidence of how anxious the man felt.
“They should put you in there. You’d do this in a snap, don’t you think?”
“Yes, I would,” Bing grumbled, because that was the truth, but mostly because Gator was wearing him down, irritating him enough that he spoke his real thoughts rather than moderating them.
“’Course you would—”
“Be quiet!”
“Okay, okay. You don’t have to get so angry.”
“I’m not angry,” Bing lied. “You’re too loud!” Which was absolutely true. It was also spoken right when everyone else had gone silent. That meant everyone looked at him, including Walter, who turned a violent shade of purple.
