A car pulled up to the entrance gate to Banana-Barberry Studios in Hollywood.
A uniformed woman leaned out the window of the security booth and asked the
driver, "Do you have a badge?"
"No, I don't," said Mr. Read, who was driving. "I'm Dave Read, and this is my son Arthur. He's the new actor for The Bionic Bunny Show."
"Just a minute, sir," said the security woman as she reached for the telephone.
Arthur looked at his father. "Maybe they've forgotten about us," he said nervously. "Maybe we won't even get past the gate."
"Relax," Mr. Read reassured him.
Moments later, the security woman handed Mr. Read a pair of clip-on badges. "You're good to go," she announced. "Wear these temporary badges whenever you're on studio property. If you go in through the main entrance, they'll point you in the right direction."
The gate lifted, and Mr. Read guided his rental car through the entrance.
Arthur fiddled with the badge that read ARTHUR READ, until he figured out how to clip it onto his shirt.
"Don't lose that," Mr. Read advised him.
They drove past one studio building after another, until they came to a large building with a row of glass doors.
"Here it is," said Mr. Read.
They parked the car and went into the building, where they were greeted by the receptionist.
"Read...Read..." said the young woman as she pored over a list of names. "Oh, here you are. I'll let Mr. Call know you're here. Have a seat."
Arthur and his father sat down near a table covered with magazines. Arthur noticed one in particular, HORSE AND RIDER, which had a cover picture of a little girl riding a horse. He picked up the magazine. "This girl looks a lot like Francine," he remarked.
"Still worried about her?" asked Mr. Read.
"I sure am," Arthur answered as he flipped through the magazine. "It's funny. Here I am about to become a TV star, and all I can think about is when I'll see Francine again. If I ever see her again."
"Her family was an asset to the community," Mr. Read observed. "It's a shame they had to break up like that."
"I wonder what she's doing right now," Arthur mused. "She's probably somewhere being miserable."
----
The kids in Ms. Ropeburn's third-grade class were having the time of their lives, kicking a soccer ball back and forth in a Town City park.
"Over here, Howard!" cried Francine to the gazelle boy, who now wore a shirt with the slogan RESISTANCE IS NOT FUTILE. He kicked the soccer ball to Francine, who knocked it past Summer, the other team's goalie, to score the winning point.
"Way to go, Francine!" yelled the kids on her team.
As the kids wandered toward the picnic tables, Francine received one high-five after another. Then Summer came up alongside her and glowered at her.
"You're pretty good, Francine. I may have to clobber you," she said, shaking a fist. The giraffe girl towered about two feet above Francine because of her long neck.
"You know," responded Francine without a hint of fear, "just because I can't reach your face doesn't mean I can't hurt you."
Summer fell back, looking a bit nervous.
As Francine sat at one of the tables and started to munch on potato chips, some of the other kids walked by and congratulated her. Then Minerva, the half-rabbit, half-sheep girl, sat down at the other side of the table.
"I want to talk to you about something, Francine," she said quietly.
"Okay," said Francine, "what is it?"
Minerva glanced around to make sure nobody was within earshot. "I completely agree with you about the way Ms. Ropeburn teaches our class. It's crazy."
"It sure is," said Francine with a mouth full of potato chips. "My old teacher is a rat, too. His name's Mr. Ratburn, and he's really tough."
"I envy you," said Minerva, her rabbit ears drooping. "What I wouldn't give for a challenging teacher who gives out meaningful homework every day. But instead I've got Ms. Angela 'two and two make four only if you feel that they do' Ropeburn. If I want to learn anything, I have to do it on my own time."
"So...what do you study on your own time?"
Minerva smiled. "I'm about halfway through a fascinating text on industrial polymers."
"I know someone you would like," said Francine.
----
"Arthur? Arthur Read?"
Arthur's reverie about what Francine might be doing was interrupted by the voice of an eagle man--Will Call, the casting director he had met during the audition.
"Oh, it's you," said Arthur, then chided himself for making such a rude statement in front of such an important person in the entertainment industry.
"Shall we get started?" said Mr. Call cheerfully. "We've got a long and exciting day ahead of us."
Mr. Call led Arthur and his father into what appeared to be yet another waiting room. "Wait here, Mr. Read," said the casting director, who then led Arthur through a nearby door.
Mr. Read waited and waited. There was no table with magazines lying on it.
After what must have been fifteen minutes, Mr. Call came back through the door, accompanied by a boy who was almost unrecognizable as Arthur.
Mr. Read gasped in surprise. Arthur now sported a rainbow-colored mohawk and several rings in one ear. He was dressed in a ragged heavy metal shirt, worn-out jeans, and sandals. His glasses had been removed, and his exposed eyes looked like small dots.
"Hi, Dad," said Arthur casually. "Say hello to Cyberpunk."
"Uh...hello...Cyberpunk," said Mr. Read hesitantly.
"I think he looks great," said Mr. Call. "What do you think?"
"Where are his glasses?" asked Mr. Read.
"In a safe place," Mr. Call answered. "Wilbur works without his glasses too, and his eyesight is even worse. Once Arthur gets accustomed to our set, he'll be able to act his part with his eyes closed."
"Which is what I'll be doing anyway," said Arthur, "because the laser visor doesn't have holes in it."
"Mr. Read, you can wait here, or you can wait in the main reception area," said Mr. Call. "It's time to get Arthur in front of the camera."
----
Arthur stood on a darkened sound stage. The fake walls surrounding him made it appear that he was inside of a garage, although he couldn't see well enough without his glasses to know that.
The director, a walrus man named Mr. Clifford, walked up to him and placed an electric guitar in his hands.
"What am I supposed to do with this?" asked Arthur.
"Just pretend that you're playing it," said Mr. Clifford. "And try to make it look convincing. I don't care how it sounds. We'll add the sound later."
"Okay, I'll try," said Arthur.
Mr. Clifford went back to his director's chair at the side of the sound stage. "Now, Arthur, when you see the red light come on, that's when you immediately start playing. Got it?"
"Got it," said Arthur.
"Positions, everyone," Mr. Clifford shouted. "Lights..."
A spotlight suddenly turned on, partially blinding Arthur and making him very hot.
"...camera...action!"
The red light came on, and Arthur started to wave his fingers back and forth across the strings of the electric guitar.
"Stop," said the director. "That's no good, Arthur. Have you ever played a guitar before?"
"Uh, no," said Arthur, "but I've played a piano."
----
Arthur had to struggle through more than twenty takes before he could fake guitar playing in a convincing manner.
"Now we'll put some actual words in your mouth," said Mr. Clifford.
He brought Arthur's glasses and a sheet of paper. Arthur put on his glasses and read what was written.
"Think you can memorize that and say it in front of the camera?" asked the director.
"I think so."
"Good," the director went on, "because when the camera goes on, the glasses come off. Now, here's somebody I'd like you to meet."
Arthur turned and saw a tall, smiling aardvark woman wearing a floral dress.
"Hel-lo!" she said in a sickeningly sweet voice. "How's my little boy?"
The aardvark woman bent over and kissed Arthur on the cheek. He grimaced.
"Makeup," said the director. A makeup person approached Arthur and cleaned up the wet spot where the woman had kissed him.
"Who are you supposed to be?" Arthur asked the woman.
"I'm your mother," she answered. "Well, I'm really an actress."
"Positions, everyone," said Mr. Clifford. "You know what to do, Arthur."
The aardvark woman retired to the edge of the sound stage.
"Lights...camera...action!"
Once again Arthur strummed the electric guitar for several seconds. Then the actress entered the stage, her arms folded.
"Gilbert Sullivan!" she exclaimed angrily. "You stop playing that guitar this instant. You have homework to finish."
Arthur stopped strumming and racked his brain to remember the line he had read. "But, Mom, it's only twenty math problems."
"I don't care!" said the actress. "I won't have you wasting your time in the garage playing that worthless music."
"It's...er, it's not worthless," said Arthur, stumbling over his line. To his surprise, the director didn't stop the take.
"It is worthless, and so are you," the actress continued.
"I'm worthless, am I?" said Arthur. "Then why don't you...uh...volunteer me for a top-secret...uh...government..."
"Stop," said the director. "That's a nice start, Arthur. Now, study your lines some more, and we'll try again."
----
Take after take went by, and Arthur still struggled with the perfect delivery of his lines.
"It is worthless, and so are you," said the actress playing Gilbert Sullivan's mother.
"I'm worthless, am I?" said Arthur. "Then why don't you volunteer me for a top-secret government experiment, and get paid ten million dollars?"
"I think I'll do just that," said the actress.
"Stop," said the director. "That was good, Arthur. It wasn't perfect, but this is just a screen test. We'll expect you back here after lunch."
As Arthur walked off the sound stage, the actress waved after him. "See you later, sweetie pie."
Mr. Clifford rose from the director's chair, and was shortly joined by a dog woman who was the show's executive producer.
"What do you think, Ms. Carver?" Mr. Clifford asked her.
"I like him," said Ms. Carver, rubbing her hands together. "He's good. The aardvark stays in the picture."
(to be continued)
"No, I don't," said Mr. Read, who was driving. "I'm Dave Read, and this is my son Arthur. He's the new actor for The Bionic Bunny Show."
"Just a minute, sir," said the security woman as she reached for the telephone.
Arthur looked at his father. "Maybe they've forgotten about us," he said nervously. "Maybe we won't even get past the gate."
"Relax," Mr. Read reassured him.
Moments later, the security woman handed Mr. Read a pair of clip-on badges. "You're good to go," she announced. "Wear these temporary badges whenever you're on studio property. If you go in through the main entrance, they'll point you in the right direction."
The gate lifted, and Mr. Read guided his rental car through the entrance.
Arthur fiddled with the badge that read ARTHUR READ, until he figured out how to clip it onto his shirt.
"Don't lose that," Mr. Read advised him.
They drove past one studio building after another, until they came to a large building with a row of glass doors.
"Here it is," said Mr. Read.
They parked the car and went into the building, where they were greeted by the receptionist.
"Read...Read..." said the young woman as she pored over a list of names. "Oh, here you are. I'll let Mr. Call know you're here. Have a seat."
Arthur and his father sat down near a table covered with magazines. Arthur noticed one in particular, HORSE AND RIDER, which had a cover picture of a little girl riding a horse. He picked up the magazine. "This girl looks a lot like Francine," he remarked.
"Still worried about her?" asked Mr. Read.
"I sure am," Arthur answered as he flipped through the magazine. "It's funny. Here I am about to become a TV star, and all I can think about is when I'll see Francine again. If I ever see her again."
"Her family was an asset to the community," Mr. Read observed. "It's a shame they had to break up like that."
"I wonder what she's doing right now," Arthur mused. "She's probably somewhere being miserable."
----
The kids in Ms. Ropeburn's third-grade class were having the time of their lives, kicking a soccer ball back and forth in a Town City park.
"Over here, Howard!" cried Francine to the gazelle boy, who now wore a shirt with the slogan RESISTANCE IS NOT FUTILE. He kicked the soccer ball to Francine, who knocked it past Summer, the other team's goalie, to score the winning point.
"Way to go, Francine!" yelled the kids on her team.
As the kids wandered toward the picnic tables, Francine received one high-five after another. Then Summer came up alongside her and glowered at her.
"You're pretty good, Francine. I may have to clobber you," she said, shaking a fist. The giraffe girl towered about two feet above Francine because of her long neck.
"You know," responded Francine without a hint of fear, "just because I can't reach your face doesn't mean I can't hurt you."
Summer fell back, looking a bit nervous.
As Francine sat at one of the tables and started to munch on potato chips, some of the other kids walked by and congratulated her. Then Minerva, the half-rabbit, half-sheep girl, sat down at the other side of the table.
"I want to talk to you about something, Francine," she said quietly.
"Okay," said Francine, "what is it?"
Minerva glanced around to make sure nobody was within earshot. "I completely agree with you about the way Ms. Ropeburn teaches our class. It's crazy."
"It sure is," said Francine with a mouth full of potato chips. "My old teacher is a rat, too. His name's Mr. Ratburn, and he's really tough."
"I envy you," said Minerva, her rabbit ears drooping. "What I wouldn't give for a challenging teacher who gives out meaningful homework every day. But instead I've got Ms. Angela 'two and two make four only if you feel that they do' Ropeburn. If I want to learn anything, I have to do it on my own time."
"So...what do you study on your own time?"
Minerva smiled. "I'm about halfway through a fascinating text on industrial polymers."
"I know someone you would like," said Francine.
----
"Arthur? Arthur Read?"
Arthur's reverie about what Francine might be doing was interrupted by the voice of an eagle man--Will Call, the casting director he had met during the audition.
"Oh, it's you," said Arthur, then chided himself for making such a rude statement in front of such an important person in the entertainment industry.
"Shall we get started?" said Mr. Call cheerfully. "We've got a long and exciting day ahead of us."
Mr. Call led Arthur and his father into what appeared to be yet another waiting room. "Wait here, Mr. Read," said the casting director, who then led Arthur through a nearby door.
Mr. Read waited and waited. There was no table with magazines lying on it.
After what must have been fifteen minutes, Mr. Call came back through the door, accompanied by a boy who was almost unrecognizable as Arthur.
Mr. Read gasped in surprise. Arthur now sported a rainbow-colored mohawk and several rings in one ear. He was dressed in a ragged heavy metal shirt, worn-out jeans, and sandals. His glasses had been removed, and his exposed eyes looked like small dots.
"Hi, Dad," said Arthur casually. "Say hello to Cyberpunk."
"Uh...hello...Cyberpunk," said Mr. Read hesitantly.
"I think he looks great," said Mr. Call. "What do you think?"
"Where are his glasses?" asked Mr. Read.
"In a safe place," Mr. Call answered. "Wilbur works without his glasses too, and his eyesight is even worse. Once Arthur gets accustomed to our set, he'll be able to act his part with his eyes closed."
"Which is what I'll be doing anyway," said Arthur, "because the laser visor doesn't have holes in it."
"Mr. Read, you can wait here, or you can wait in the main reception area," said Mr. Call. "It's time to get Arthur in front of the camera."
----
Arthur stood on a darkened sound stage. The fake walls surrounding him made it appear that he was inside of a garage, although he couldn't see well enough without his glasses to know that.
The director, a walrus man named Mr. Clifford, walked up to him and placed an electric guitar in his hands.
"What am I supposed to do with this?" asked Arthur.
"Just pretend that you're playing it," said Mr. Clifford. "And try to make it look convincing. I don't care how it sounds. We'll add the sound later."
"Okay, I'll try," said Arthur.
Mr. Clifford went back to his director's chair at the side of the sound stage. "Now, Arthur, when you see the red light come on, that's when you immediately start playing. Got it?"
"Got it," said Arthur.
"Positions, everyone," Mr. Clifford shouted. "Lights..."
A spotlight suddenly turned on, partially blinding Arthur and making him very hot.
"...camera...action!"
The red light came on, and Arthur started to wave his fingers back and forth across the strings of the electric guitar.
"Stop," said the director. "That's no good, Arthur. Have you ever played a guitar before?"
"Uh, no," said Arthur, "but I've played a piano."
----
Arthur had to struggle through more than twenty takes before he could fake guitar playing in a convincing manner.
"Now we'll put some actual words in your mouth," said Mr. Clifford.
He brought Arthur's glasses and a sheet of paper. Arthur put on his glasses and read what was written.
"Think you can memorize that and say it in front of the camera?" asked the director.
"I think so."
"Good," the director went on, "because when the camera goes on, the glasses come off. Now, here's somebody I'd like you to meet."
Arthur turned and saw a tall, smiling aardvark woman wearing a floral dress.
"Hel-lo!" she said in a sickeningly sweet voice. "How's my little boy?"
The aardvark woman bent over and kissed Arthur on the cheek. He grimaced.
"Makeup," said the director. A makeup person approached Arthur and cleaned up the wet spot where the woman had kissed him.
"Who are you supposed to be?" Arthur asked the woman.
"I'm your mother," she answered. "Well, I'm really an actress."
"Positions, everyone," said Mr. Clifford. "You know what to do, Arthur."
The aardvark woman retired to the edge of the sound stage.
"Lights...camera...action!"
Once again Arthur strummed the electric guitar for several seconds. Then the actress entered the stage, her arms folded.
"Gilbert Sullivan!" she exclaimed angrily. "You stop playing that guitar this instant. You have homework to finish."
Arthur stopped strumming and racked his brain to remember the line he had read. "But, Mom, it's only twenty math problems."
"I don't care!" said the actress. "I won't have you wasting your time in the garage playing that worthless music."
"It's...er, it's not worthless," said Arthur, stumbling over his line. To his surprise, the director didn't stop the take.
"It is worthless, and so are you," the actress continued.
"I'm worthless, am I?" said Arthur. "Then why don't you...uh...volunteer me for a top-secret...uh...government..."
"Stop," said the director. "That's a nice start, Arthur. Now, study your lines some more, and we'll try again."
----
Take after take went by, and Arthur still struggled with the perfect delivery of his lines.
"It is worthless, and so are you," said the actress playing Gilbert Sullivan's mother.
"I'm worthless, am I?" said Arthur. "Then why don't you volunteer me for a top-secret government experiment, and get paid ten million dollars?"
"I think I'll do just that," said the actress.
"Stop," said the director. "That was good, Arthur. It wasn't perfect, but this is just a screen test. We'll expect you back here after lunch."
As Arthur walked off the sound stage, the actress waved after him. "See you later, sweetie pie."
Mr. Clifford rose from the director's chair, and was shortly joined by a dog woman who was the show's executive producer.
"What do you think, Ms. Carver?" Mr. Clifford asked her.
"I like him," said Ms. Carver, rubbing her hands together. "He's good. The aardvark stays in the picture."
(to be continued)
