A Dress the Color of the Clouds -- Bloopers



As Caramon was just shoving the bread into his mouth, there was a knock at the door. He got up, his mouth still full of bread, and pulled open the front door.

"Hi," said the girl.

Caramon choked on his bread. He doubled over, lungs heaving uselessly, his hands grasping at his own throat.

"Hey, you idiot, that's not in the script!" Raistlin called from off- camera. The girl jumped around behind Caramon and performed the Heimlich maneuver. A piece of half-chewed bread flew across the room. Caramon coughed a few times and blushed sheepishly.

* * *

"Would you like to come with me for a walk by the lake, m'lady?" Caramon asked, giving the girl – who he guessed to be his own age or just a bit younger – a charming smile.

She blushed and giggled prettily. "Gee, Caramon, I'd love to! Pick me up at eight?"

"CUT!!" Raistlin yelled quickly.

* * *

"It isn't fair!" Raistlin growled, leaning his back against the railing of the little back porch. He pounded his fist on his leg, and at that same moment, the porch railing gave a tremendous CRACK and broke. Raistlin tumbled off backwards. "Aaahhhhhhhhhhhh—"

THUD.

* * *

"You..." he gasped, staring at her, laughing until tears formed at the corners of his eyes. "You... a magic-user...!" He was forced to grab at the rail to keep from tumbling over it in his merriment. Unfortunately, the action didn't do him much good – the rail emitted a loud cracking sound. Raistlin groaned. "Not again…" he muttered as the handrail gave way and he went flying off the porch again.

* * *

In desperation, he took a deep breath, squeezed shut his eyes, and kissed her.

The girl's eyes rolled back in her head and she fell to the porch floor in a dead faint.

Raistlin sighed. "It's so hard to find good costars these days…"

* * *

Caramon sat down on his bed with a THUMP, shaking the whole house. He pounded his fists on his knees so hard the muscles knotted. "Raist isn't supposed to like girls!"

"Would you rather I like boys, Caramon...?"

Caramon shrugged. "Well, last week I DID catch you backstage with Sturm last week, and I just thought—"

Raistlin blushed crimson red. "CUT!!"

* * *

"Hey, Raist...?" he asked, a shadow falling across his normally cheerful, handsome face. Raistlin regarded his twin intently.

"Yes, my brother?"

"…I just forgot my line."

* * *

"You are absolutely correct, Caramon!" Raistlin said softly, his tone bitter and sarcastic. "You're the perfect hero to save the 'damsel in distress.' After all," he continued, his eyes flickering, "What army of goblins could ever hope to stand against the might of a teenaged boy boldly brandishing his wooden sword?"

Caramon stared at his brother, his eyes slowly filling up with tears. "I can't help it! You never did understand me, Raist!!" he cried, running off stage, sobbing miserably.

"Cut," Raistlin sighed.

* * *

"Pick it up like this." Raistlin pantomimed in the air with his right hand.

Caramon imitated his brother, gently taking the knife in his own right hand. "Like this?" he asked.

Raistlin nodded. "Very good, Caramon. Now, hold down the vegetables—no, not like that, you dolt!! Like this—Caramon, watch where you swing that knife! No, don't do that! Caramon, don't – AAAAAARRRGH!!!

"Um… Cut," Caramon said sheepishly.

* * *

"Shut up and go skin the rabbit, you dolt," Raistlin said crossly.

"Okay, Raist," Caramon said. He sighed and took the knife and the rabbit out on the back porch to skin. A moment later, a loud CRACK sounded from the direction Caramon had vanished. "AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH--thud."

"Cut," Raistlin said with a smirk.

(end bloopers)