A week later, I was flying out to California with Father at my side to make sure things went well. We had gotten all the legal stuff worked out, and the people at Schwippes seemed very delighted with me then pushing their products. It only took us an hour to reach our destination, Los Angeles in the two-person version of the Fantasticar that Father and I usually frequented the most. As we got out, Father asked me.
"Mary, are you ready for your big moment today?"
"As ready as I ever will be Father. This is really no big deal for me, since I have been up in front of a lot of people before."
"True, my child, true. But please keep in mind, this not just a crowd in an auditorium, but the whole United States of America. Possibly the world."
"Yes Father, but the way I view it, all the world is a stage. And the people who turn on their televisions, and see me on the screen are all just part of a huge audience."
Father was silent after I said that. We walked on to a huge building nearby, and entered. The moment we came in, a man who looked half crazed, along with a very short man ran up to us, and shook our hands as they spontaneously introduced themselves.
"Good day Mr. and Ms. Richards! It is a pleasure to meet one of our state's finest natives Mr. Richards. But, it is an even BIGGER PLEASURE to meet our future star!!"
The lunatic of a man said as he began to shake my hand harder and firmer. Father commented.
"Sir, pardon me for even mentioning this, but you do not seem to look well."
"DO NOT LOOK WELL? I FEEL GREAT! I just stayed up all night coming up with the scripts for this, my MASTERPIECE!"
I could not help, but interject at this point.
"Sir, this is just a ginger ale ad. It's not like we are going to make Cleopatra, or 2001: Space Odyssey."
"JUST A GINGER ALE AD?! Our goal today is to make elegance very prominent in the eyes of America! Look at you and your father, you two are the true symbols of elegance. The rich blue of your dress, and his sportscoat. Why you two have got to be the best looking father and daughter pair in all of America!" The half-insane man let out.
"Mr. and Ms. Richards, you will have to excuse Mr. Peterson here. As you can see, not getting enough hours of sleep can get to his head sometimes. Other than that, he is usually a very reasonable man. And, I forgot to tell you my name, it is Mr. Edwards." The short man said in a voice that seemed very similar to the little man on Fantasy Island.
"Now, one of our scripts involve having your father sit nearby you. Is that ok?" Mr. Edwards asked.
"I guess it would be ok, if he does not mind. And by the way, he is my stepfather, not my father."
"YOU ARE NOT RELATED BY BLOOD?! DON'T YOU REALIZE THAT'S GOING TO TAKE AWAY FROM THE MAGIC OF ONE OF MY IDEAS?!" The supposedly sane Mr. Peterson belted out.
"What kind of idea is this?" Father questioned.
"You see, he came up with this cute idea that you and her would sit in front of a backdrop of a front porch of a real fancy mansion. And, she would do all the talking, while you sit by her remaining quiet. Kind-of like those Barnes and Johnston Wine Cooler ads." Mr. Edwards answered.
"I see..." Father replied, sounding perturbed, which I did not blame him at that moment.
"I don't think I like that idea. Don't you think there may be matters for a copyright infringement law-suit if we go through with that?" I asked.
"Yeah, you got a point Miss. I agree, screw that idea." Mr. Peterson said, much more calmly.
Like Mr. Peterson, things began to ease off then. For a rather boring two hours, we went over which scripts and ideas I liked, and three gentlemen who joined jotted down notes during this process, which took place in a tiny meeting room. Once we were done, it was time to get ready for the shooting. And even though Mr. Peterson seemed like a Ravencroft convict, he actually changed for the better thanks to getting at least an hour's worth of sleep during the script revision meeting. So, he was a little more fit in the head to direct the ads.
"Mary, are you ready for your big moment today?"
"As ready as I ever will be Father. This is really no big deal for me, since I have been up in front of a lot of people before."
"True, my child, true. But please keep in mind, this not just a crowd in an auditorium, but the whole United States of America. Possibly the world."
"Yes Father, but the way I view it, all the world is a stage. And the people who turn on their televisions, and see me on the screen are all just part of a huge audience."
Father was silent after I said that. We walked on to a huge building nearby, and entered. The moment we came in, a man who looked half crazed, along with a very short man ran up to us, and shook our hands as they spontaneously introduced themselves.
"Good day Mr. and Ms. Richards! It is a pleasure to meet one of our state's finest natives Mr. Richards. But, it is an even BIGGER PLEASURE to meet our future star!!"
The lunatic of a man said as he began to shake my hand harder and firmer. Father commented.
"Sir, pardon me for even mentioning this, but you do not seem to look well."
"DO NOT LOOK WELL? I FEEL GREAT! I just stayed up all night coming up with the scripts for this, my MASTERPIECE!"
I could not help, but interject at this point.
"Sir, this is just a ginger ale ad. It's not like we are going to make Cleopatra, or 2001: Space Odyssey."
"JUST A GINGER ALE AD?! Our goal today is to make elegance very prominent in the eyes of America! Look at you and your father, you two are the true symbols of elegance. The rich blue of your dress, and his sportscoat. Why you two have got to be the best looking father and daughter pair in all of America!" The half-insane man let out.
"Mr. and Ms. Richards, you will have to excuse Mr. Peterson here. As you can see, not getting enough hours of sleep can get to his head sometimes. Other than that, he is usually a very reasonable man. And, I forgot to tell you my name, it is Mr. Edwards." The short man said in a voice that seemed very similar to the little man on Fantasy Island.
"Now, one of our scripts involve having your father sit nearby you. Is that ok?" Mr. Edwards asked.
"I guess it would be ok, if he does not mind. And by the way, he is my stepfather, not my father."
"YOU ARE NOT RELATED BY BLOOD?! DON'T YOU REALIZE THAT'S GOING TO TAKE AWAY FROM THE MAGIC OF ONE OF MY IDEAS?!" The supposedly sane Mr. Peterson belted out.
"What kind of idea is this?" Father questioned.
"You see, he came up with this cute idea that you and her would sit in front of a backdrop of a front porch of a real fancy mansion. And, she would do all the talking, while you sit by her remaining quiet. Kind-of like those Barnes and Johnston Wine Cooler ads." Mr. Edwards answered.
"I see..." Father replied, sounding perturbed, which I did not blame him at that moment.
"I don't think I like that idea. Don't you think there may be matters for a copyright infringement law-suit if we go through with that?" I asked.
"Yeah, you got a point Miss. I agree, screw that idea." Mr. Peterson said, much more calmly.
Like Mr. Peterson, things began to ease off then. For a rather boring two hours, we went over which scripts and ideas I liked, and three gentlemen who joined jotted down notes during this process, which took place in a tiny meeting room. Once we were done, it was time to get ready for the shooting. And even though Mr. Peterson seemed like a Ravencroft convict, he actually changed for the better thanks to getting at least an hour's worth of sleep during the script revision meeting. So, he was a little more fit in the head to direct the ads.