I took this fic like a million years ago for alterations and never got around to reposting it. I was too excited about the election to sleep last night so I put in the finishing touches at about 2 o'clock this morning and now here it is:

Disclaimer: I don't own anything D:


Minutes felt like hours as Susie Arquette and Preston Bluell waited outside the screening room of Zelman and Associates Production office. Susie paced nervously back and forth, annoying herself with the swishing of her dark brown hair as she turned.

"How much longer can they be?" She asked, exasperated. Preston shrugged.

"It's nine reels; it's going to take a while." He reminded her. Susie sighed and looked up at the clock on the wall. Bored, she began nibbling on her nails. Moments later, Carl Denham, Preston and Susie's employer, stepped out of the secluded room.

"So?" Susie asked. Carl ignored her and pointed to Preston's glass of water.

"Gimme that." He said. The meek man handed over the glass.

"You won't like it," Preston told him. "It's non-alcoholic."

"You two have a lot about to learn about the film business." Carl threw the contents of the glass into a nearby plant and held it to the screening room door, pressing his ear to it. When the director's face fell, Susie knew he couldn't have heard anything good.

"Susie, go get the coats, Preston get the reels, we're leaving."

Susie grabbed the three coats and dispersed them to their owners once Preston returned with the film reels. "What are we going to do?" She asked, buttoning up as they stood in the elevator.

"We've got to get out of here; they're not going to scrap my picture." Carl said. There was a soft 'ping' and the elevator door opened to the lobby. The trio walked briskly out of the building and on to the busy New York sidewalk, Preston stumbling with the reels. "I want the ship to leave within the hour."

"We can't do that," Susie began. "We don't have the camera, the film, the actors, a script-"

"Tell them the producers pushed for an early departure." Carl pressed.

"We can't do this, it's not ethical!" He protested. "Besides, we have no visas, no paperwork, no foreign currency; we haven't got currency of any kind!"

"That's where you and Susie come in." Carl said, hailing down a cab. He nudged Preston in and looked over his shoulder to see the three producers hurrying out of the office, looking for them. Parker, one of Zelman's associates, saw them and began running toward the partially filled taxi. Carl pushed Susie along and quickly squeezed in after, slamming the door.

"Go! Go!" He shouted urgently as he tried to close the window on a struggling Parker. As the taxi began moving, defeated, Parker released his grip on Denham.

"You're finished Denham!" He howled after the cab. "Finished!"

Carl leaned back in his seat with a smile. "Don't worry; I'm real good at crapping the crappers." He told his assistants. "Now, we're going to need two dozen of Mr. Walker's finest, Red label, 80% proof to be in a crate marked, 'lemonade.'"Preston sat hunched over, writing in his notepad feverishly. "You got that? And tell Maureen she doesn't have six hours to put on her face. If she wants to be in this picture, she's gotta be on that boat!"

"She doesn't want to be in this picture." Preston mumbled without looking up from his notepad. Carl gave him a confused look. "Maureen pulled out yesterday, don't you remember?"

"Did you tell her we're shooting in Singapore?" The director asked. Preston looked at the floor.

"But we aren't shooting in Singapore."

"All you had to do was look her in the eye and lie." Carl said exasperatedly. "Who's available? Clara Bow? Myrna Loy?"

"Busy, they're all busy." Susie told him. "And she's got to be a size four, we can't get new costumes."

"Fay's a size four."

"She's doing a film with RKO." Preston interjected. Carl ran his fingers through his hair then tapped the back of the driver's seat, signaling for him to stop.

"I'll find a girl, I promise. Susie, get Bruce, and Preston, call in the crew and tell Jack I need that goddamn screenplay." Carl said before exiting the cab. Before either could respond, he was out. "Failure is always momentary."

The pair sat in an astonished silence for a moment. While they knew their boss didn't always make the wisest of decisions, this one was downright impossible.

"Excelsior Hotel, please." Susie sighed, rubbing her temples.

"I can get Bruce if you don't want to." Preston told her. But she shook her head.

"Nah, I'll get him." The next 10 minutes until Susie stepped out of the taxi were spent in another awkward silence. "See you at the docks."


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