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Old 10-06-2005, 07:10 PM   #928
The Pitfall
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Join Date: Sep 2005
Location: Steamboat Willie...'s pants
Posts: 2,655
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Here is my friend's Becky/Jasper fic..don't tell them that I stole it...MWAHAHAHA.

She saved it on my computer..she's stupid.


Zomg!!1! 0-0

“Get it together people, tomorrow’s the big day and we haven’t rehearsed yet! Everyone places! Let’s get a run through.” A few attempts were made to meet these demands; mainly a few blank stares and the occasional prop change. It seemed that however hard Becky tried to get things together she just couldn’t make ends meet.

“Okay, you…dog. Away from the fire hydrant.”

Two plastic googol eyes gave her the soulful I-didn’t-mean-to-do-it look. Apparently the actor had gotten too into his role. Becky only sighed and put a hand on her forehead, exasperatedly waving the other towards the mess, “We’ll need a clean-up on center stage.”

Finally, after that problem was taken care of, all was ready and the rehearsal commenced. They were even able to make it through Act one without incident. But Becky was still having a hard time calming her nerves. In fact, ever since Bonita’s dramatic fall from grace was she constantly frazzled. Before Becky rode on wave after wave of successful record-breaking plays with almost no effort on her part. However, after constant failures did the glory of success fade off along with her health. She knew she had at least lost a few pounds from the stress. And was she turning…blue?

But there wasn’t any time to worry about that now; instead she had to worry about the other million things stopping the show from running smoothly. Like finding the missing script for the final scene when Gloria escaped from her cruel mother to focus on her budding new career. “Oh, its useless anyway.” Becky was talking aloud to herself again. But the others didn’t mind they were use to it by now, “it’d be years before someone found that script and, besides, nothing could help this play.”

“That’s the only sensible thing I’ve heard all day.” A deep and venomous voice snaked its way from the upper decks. Becky really did not feel like dealing with Jasper today. She’d gotten barely any sleep last night and only two cups of coffee this morning. So instead of paying any attention to his last comment, she said, “You don’t look too well today. Gained a few pounds, huh?” she raised an eyebrow.

“Seems like you could use some.” He replied back casually.

“Good one.” She replied looking down at her waist. At that size, it definitely wasn’t healthy.

“Look, you’re making this too easy. You’re going to have to come up with something better than that if you want to make any real impact.” Jasper spat out, “Oh, and by the way, I believe you were looking for this. You really should keep more track of these things if you ever want to help this pile of tasteless dreck.” He produced a script that she was sure she hadn’t misplaced but he instead “found”.
“Thanks, great. Now more lines to remember.” She wasn’t even going to try to match his sarcastic tone. Right now the play had gone through three acts and the young actor playing the part of Gloria Von Gouton was already forgetting her lines, “No, no, no! That’s all wrong.” Becky groaned in exhaustion, “After his lines you say…” but before she could finish the lighting changed from a cheery yellow to an oddly downcasting green. And since last she checked, the costumes weren’t thorny weeds, nor was the background and props so full of…skulls.

“Ah. Now that’s more like it.” That all too familiar voice boomed from above.

“Not helping, not helping.” Becky whispered under her breath, tapping the heel of her shoe nervously.

On stage the actors took on a more sinister interpretation of the script and lines were being delivered with a more poisonous tone. Actually, Becky noted eerily that they were sounding more akin to Jasper than happy-go-lucky flowers. And this change of manner was peculiarly right in time for Bonita’s grand entrance. It seemed that something always went wrong anyway when she came on. Sometimes it was just a loosened floorboard or the chance unraveling of a costume. But lately the mishaps had turned more violent ranging all the way from falling stage-lights to spontaneous combustion. The accidents were all too regular and coincidental for Becky that she was sure they were purposeful attacks with the intent of shutting down the play. The only thing confusing, though, was as to why someone would put in that much effort of destroying the play when it was accomplishing that well enough on its own. Especially with Bonita appearing soon…

“And where would Gloria be without her sunshine-“

“her muse-“

“Bonita Soleil!”

Almost as if one cue, the stage fell flat the moment Bonita showed her face. And just like every other time before that, she ran off crying to her dressing room. Becky didn’t know how many more times they’d have to go through this routine before Bonita decided to never come out of her dressing room again.
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