Disclaimer: I don't own Trigun, or any of the characters. Yasuhiro Nightow does own it, but I don't think he'd mind it if I borrowed his genius for a bit. Myaa!
Oh yeah, I recently found this saved on an old disk. I wrote it a few years ago, and decided to fix it up. Seemed wasteful to let it just sit there collecting dust. Enjoy!
Backstage PassNicholas D. Wolfwood sat on a rock in the desert, his cross punisher leaning up against him. He raised a lit cigarette to his mouth, looking serious and deep in thought. He took a deep drag.
Suddenly he tossed the cigarette down and hunched over, coughing and gasping for fresh air. "Dammit! Not again!"
"CUT!" cried the Director. He stomped over to Wolfwood, who was still red in the face from coughing. "That's the third scene you've blown today!"
Wolfwood was handed a bottle of water and he took a drink and swished it in his mouth. "I just can't do it anymore! This role ain't worth getting cancer over! I've smoked so many damn cigarettes that I'm having trouble walking!"
"Hey, buddy," the Director warned, his finger within an inch of Wolfwood's bloodshot eyes. "You're the one that signed the contract. It clearly states that the character you're going to play is a chain smoker. If you can't handle it, we'll just get someone else to do it and pay them instead. Hajime Saito from the Rurouni Kenshin series seemed quite willing to stop by for an audition. . ."
"W-wait!" he cried, grabbing the Director's legs as he started to walk away. "I need this part!"
"Well, you just have to ask yourself what's more important. Your health, or the money?"
"Don't ask me a ridiculous question like that!" yelled Wolfwood. "Of course money is more important! Fine, let's try this again! Make-up!" A few women scurried over to him and began powdering his face.
"Ok, 'Wolfwood Smoking In The Desert'," announced the Director, waiting for everyone to get into place. "Take 4. . . and. . Action!"
Wolfwood was in front of the exact same desert backdrop, cigarette at the ready. Just as he was about to lift it to his lips, a loud slam filled the studio. "Goddamn it!" he screamed, kicking some of the set props with his heavy boots. He stepped in the center of a prop donut and it got stuck on his foot. "I'M AN AR-TIST! How the hell do expect me to work with all of these interruptions?! Where the hell is my agent!!" He lifted the cardboard cross that was next to him and hurled it at the stage crew.
The Director approached Wolfwood's fuming form cautiously, bowing apologetically. "We're sorry Mr. Wolfwood. We'll continue again in 10."
Wolfwood sat down moodily in a cloth chair that had his name on the back, pulling the prop donut off his foot and chucking it behind him. "Hey!" he yelled at some passing workers. "Can I get some coffee and donuts over here already?" They mumbled something hastily and went off to do his bidding. "Idiots! What does a star have to do around here to get a little attention?"
"What's the matter, Nick?" asked Vash the Stampede, his fellow actor. He sat down on a throne with his name set in gold lettering on the back, letting a woman place a crown on his head and a scepter in his hand, "Care to talk about it?"
"I dunno," Wolfwood said, sipping his coffee and recrossing his legs on his ratty, stained, torn cloth chair. "I just feel like I'm the only one here being underpaid and overworked. No one else gets distracted when they're filming. And no one else is being forced to smoke themselves to death."
"Awwww, I know how you feel pal," Vash replied, having one of his butlers pat Wolfwood on the back reassuringly.
"You do?" Wolfwood asked hopefully.
"Oh yeah, totally!" Vash nodded. "The last movie I was paid to do I got $$30,000,000. They're only paying me a lousy $$25,000,000 for this series. Pisses me off."
Wolfwood's jaw dropped to the floor. "You get paid THAT much?"
"I deserve more." Vash took a sip of wine from the diamond-studded goblet he was handed. "Plah, take this away! You gave me only cheap $$3,000 wine? Do I look like a savage to you?"
"I only get $$22 an hour! I don't even get paid breaks!" whined Wolfwood, standing up and pulling his hair out. "This is such a rip-off! I should have known something was fishy when they made me share the janitor's closet with Rem Saverem instead of giving me my own dressing room! I cannot believe this!"
Vash started laughing, spraying wine everywhere in the process. "Hahahaha. You should be happy they actually gave someone like you work! I heard that they were going to give Midvalley the Hornfreak your part and have you play child number 6 in episode 22. The producers are still considering Midvalley."
"Hey! Who told you that? They were going to, and still might, give that hack job Midvalley MY part?! He's been playing casinos for the past twelve years!! They picked him up at a lounge in an airport for Christ's sake!" Wolfwood started dancing angrily in place.
"Milly Thompson told me," replied Vash calmly, looking over his manicure. "She's been trying to get rid of you since you started. . .You know, talking to executives and the Director."
Wolfwood stormed off, cursing incoherently. "Well, looks like I'll be having a talk with Ms. Thompson." He stomped down to the hallway where all the cast dressing rooms were located. "Let's see...Meryl Stryfe...Legato Bluesummers....Millions Knives...Kuroneko?! They gave the damn cat its own room?! Jeeeesus! Here we are, Milly Thompson." He pounded on the door a few times.
A sweet singsong voice greeted him in reply. "Come innnnn! The door is open!"
Wolfwood opened the door and slammed it behind him. "Ms. Thompson!" he started, balling his fists up. "I just want to sa-"
"Oh dear," she interrupted, rushing past him and to the door. "I'll be right back! I forgot to tell Meryl that we have to film in an hour. Oh Meeeeeeeryl!!"
Wolfwood exhaled angrily and put a hand on his hip. He surveyed the room before him. Piles of flowers and fan letters cluttered most of the corners. Open pudding boxes littered the floor. Bags with $$ signs were piled to the ceiling. ::Boy, I never get any fan mail. . .or flowers. . .or pudding. . . Hell! They even buy my costumes at Good Will! My cross punisher is made out of cardboard for God's sake!::
The door reopened, and Milly quickly dashed inside, followed by a swarm of fans. They tried to get inside the dressing room with her, but she slammed the door just in time. "Whew, I'm baaaack!" she chirped happily, wiping the back of her hand across her brow. "I'm sorry I took so long, a pile of fans wanted my autograph. Of course, you know what it's like." She missed his irritated look. "What can I do for you, Mr. Wolfwood?"
Wolfwood gritted his teeth as he spoke. "I heard that Midvalley is trying out for my part. Vash told me you had some sway in this."
Milly beamed, "Well, of course! I couldn't stand to see you injure such a great character!"
"Injure?!" howled Wolfwood, grabbing a can of pudding and squeezing it. "What the hell do you mean? You know what? You're a lot nicer in the series. I had no idea you were so evil and cunning outside of work."
"Hm? What Mr. Wolfwood? I'm sorry; I can't talk anymore right now. I have to practice my lines," Milly replied, sitting down and opening a can of pudding. "I only wish Mr. Midvalley good luck in the screenings today. I sure hope he gives them heck! You should wish him good luck as well. Let's see now, was it "Meryl?" and then eat some pudding or was it eat some pudding and then "Meryl?". Those scripts are so darn confusing. . ."
"Screening, eh?" Wolfwood walked out of Milly's room and made his way back to the main set, being careful to avoid E.G. Mine in the narrow hallway. He pushed the set door open and nearly had a conniption. Midvalley was on stage doing the exact same take he has messed up on only earlier. Midvalley was also dressed in the exact same outfit he had on and was about to take a drag of 'his' cigarette. Wolfwood couldn't watch the scene play out before him any longer. . . Midvalley was just doing too damn good of a job. "FIRE!" he yelled, causing everyone on set to panic.
The Director raised his eyes to the ceiling when he saw who had caused the disturbance. "CUT!" he yelled, and the entire cast and crew moaned when they saw that the shot was now ruined.
"Just whatinthehell do you think you're doing?" Wolfwood walked up to Midvalley, getting all in his face and poking him in the chops. "And what the hell is this about?" He gestured to the four glued on pieces of stubble adorning Midvalley's chin. Wolfwood yanked them off, causing Midvalley to flinch.
Midvalley winched as he rubbed his injured chin. "Hey! That smarted! Why did you do that for?"
"You're stealing my part, you jerk!" retorted Wolfwood.
"Am not!" Midvalley shot back.
"As a pretend priest, I sentence you to burn in hell!"
"You can't do that!"
"Wanna make a bet? Part stealer!"
"Are you insane Wolfwood? I'd never steal your part!"
"You just DID!"
The Director ambled up to them, shaking his head. "Wolfwood, you've got it all wrong. Midvalley is just going to try out as your stunt double. Who ever told you that he was going to replace you?"
"S-stunt double?" stammered Wolfwood, his mouth hanging open stupidly.
"Of course, stunt double." The Director crossed his arms impatiently. "Unless you'd like to do all of the dangerous parts all by yourself. . . I have a particularly dangerous one involving quicksand if you'd like to--"
"No no no! My bad! Sorry!" Wolfwood apologized, bending over and picking up the stray hairs. He spit on the ends and tried to reattach them to Midvalley's chin, but they just fell to the floor again. "But didn't Milly speak with the executives about getting me replaced?"
"What? Oh heavens no!" cried the Director. "Ms. Thompson was afraid of you injuring yourself so she went out of her way to try to convince us that you needed a stunt double. It really was quite nice her of. She is such a considerate young girl, just like her big sister."
"I'll have to send her a thank you card then," muttered Wolfwood.
Vash walked past at that exact same moment. "Hey everyone!" he waved, a grin on his face.
Wolfwood looked up, "You told me that they were going to replace me!! Come back here, Spikehead!!" Wolfwood tackled him roughly, Vash's arms flailing about.
"Get offa me Wolfwood! Hey! That tickles! Ow! That didn't! St-ha-ha-ha-ha-op it!" Wolfwood had Vash in a headlock and was giving him noogies.
"Why the hell did you lie for?" demanded Wolfwood. "Say uncle! Say uncle!"
"UNCLE! UNCLE!" whined Vash, whimpering when Wolfwood finally let him go. He stood up and brushed the dust from his tangled red coat and straightened his flattened hair, "You took the last donut this morning. So I made all that stuff about me getting paid more and Midvalley taking your job away to get back at you."
"Because of a donut?!" yelled Wolfwood, smacking his forehead. "You moron!"
"H-hey," Vash said, pouting. "You don't have to yell at me! Donuts are really important you know. They make the world go 'round and 'round and 'round!"
Wolfwood rolled his eyes, "I can't believe HE got the lead in this series. They should have given the damn cat his part!"
"Myaa?" Kuroneko blinked twice and cocked its head to the side. Next to it a random Legato, Meryl, Knives, and group of Gung-ho guns popped up from behind a piece of scenery, waving happily.
Note to readers: the author felt bad because they didn't appear in the following production. I believe that this makes up for any disappointed fans.
The end!
Please read and review. :-)