Chapter 43c: The Majestic Bird
This is ridiculous.
Utterly ridiculous.
That's all I manage to think as I disappear off the side of the stage again. Yeah, there is blondie again, this time having 'helpfully' moved the damn table with Colin's things away from the privacy screen.
Do you REALLY think we will need the emergency exit right now, bitch? Do you really think I am not on to you?
Maybe she's getting revenge, but they fucking started it.
Still, I just hurry off towards the the screen, already loosening the tie and glasses that I can get an early start on. The less of a show I can give these women, the better. Seventy fucking seconds. Lunacy!
"Don't forget the cuffs." she whispers as I pass her.
"Fuck off." is my hushed reply to which she offers a muted giggle. See? She knows EXACTLY what she's doing.
The tie I throw carelessly over the privacy screen. The glasses get a light toss towards the table; it isn't like there's actual lenses in them anyways. Then the jacket comes off, as do the pants. Hurry hurry, fifty seconds.
I allow them to crumple and fall on the floor. She wanted the spot as my wardrobe assistant, so she's going to get to work hard for it. Stupid cow.
And now I'm left in my underwear. Yeah. I'll get back at you for this, stupid cow.
I dart out quickly to the table to get the pink-dyed wig and pink shirt that are waiting for me there in a neatly folded fashion. This isn't what I left the shirt looking like ten minutes ago at all.
She could make a decent housewife I suppose. Good job on one thing at least, blondie. For a moment I consider pulling the table closer to the privacy screen, but if the table screeches over the ground the entire theater is going to hear it. Nope. Can't risk that.
I dart back behind the privacy screen to get dressed in these shitty clothes.
After I have put the shirt on, it is time for the wig. Oh fuck, hairnet first. Damn. Where is it? Where?
"Hairnet!" I hiss.
"Left." she replies calmly. Of course she doesn't go out of her way to hand it to me. Damn this trollop.
I found it. Left corner of the table. Somewhat hidden underneath the pants. Of course they are. Probably to make sure I have to spend more time at the table to find it. It has been a while since I wanted to punch someone, but for it to be a girl is a first.
Quickly I dart out, and spot at least four girls glancing in my direction expectantly as I pick up the hairnet and dart back. Bitches, all of them. I quickly put the hairnet back on wig back on, I fucking hate this outfit even more. That damn hair just itches my neck.
While I dart out a few more times to pick up the rest of my costume, I cannot help but feel bamboozled.
My strong disagreements to being a cuddle and kissing practice puppet were finally received when I threatened I was going to quit over this damn one-sided treatment.
So in the end we aren't doing a play where I have to kiss or be overly physical with any of these idiots. Which makes me quite happy, because I really did not want to do some stupid role where I have a cute wife and a hot secretary and some overly bubbly environmental activist lady living across the street. Fuck no.
I'd rather have quit or died than be subjected to such pulpy material for weeks on end!
So then they decided on this play instead. I've got four roles and need to change outfits a lot, courtesy of the lack of male members in our group. This is why the blondie exists to make my life miserable in this manner.
I just finished up as John, an elementary teacher with a slight drinking problem. The others are Pete the sad garbageman and Kevin the know-it-all, but they won't appear again. So I don't mind them. But Colin is by far the worst of them all.
"Twenty seconds. Hurry."
Oh, shut up bitch. I know what I'm doing.
I finally slip into my new shoes, and my outfit is complete.
They are all waiting again. Of course they are. Some thumbs go up, there is a wink, and were it not for the requirement of silence and order, there'd be catcalling. I guarantee it.
"Looking hot, Mr. Pink."
Blondie of course can't help but to open her claptrap again. Of course she has to refer to the fact my biggest and shameful role tonight is to be a damn hippie dressed like a flamingo.
"Can't say the same of you. Go clean."
It is exactly the right time; I can see the director motioning me to hurry towards the stage, which allows me to ignore her hurt expression even more easily. Still, that felt good. Before I forget, I take the briefcase from the table and hurry along.
The lights fade and the last actor on the stage passes by me with a sympathetic smile. Then, I move onto the scene, passing by one of the few decent people in this production. He plays Carl.
These lines I am about to utter are still the most shameful of them all. I sigh gently, opening the door that stands on the set.
"Caaaa-aaaaa-aaaarl...! Are you hooo-oooome? I am soooo gooooing to rip your clothes off and maaa-aake your day into a starlit night where alllll those wishes of yours come true!"
I want to puke making those sounds with my own voice.
Setsuka begged me so many times to find a way for her to come watch me perform. I denied her at least a dozen times just the last time I saw her.
I'm sorry for saying no, but not sorry for not letting you.
Were you to see me play this gay flamingo role, then I'd really die of shame tonight.
Those fucking trollops!