"No one needs anyone

They don't even just pretend.

Nu nu nuh, n' nuh n' nuh

Johnny's in America."

-Nine Inch Nails w/ David Bowie, "I'm afraid of Americans".

The scream filled his ears, ringing, prodding, piercing.

All he could do was sit and stare at the sight below him, binoculars in hand, disbelief dragging across his face.

Though his eyes could not be seen, his open jaw and raised eyebrows were enough to let it be known that horror was in his being.

Then, came the silent voice of a timid woman: Timid, but still audible, causing the binocular bearer to look down.

"I-...it's dead," Wearing a polka dotted dress lined with white lace, a short woman with dark read hair folded an napkin in her hand nervously, staring out away from the horrid sight. "It's been strangled...its neck is broken."

He watched, his binoculars not pulling away, but slowly shifting away to another woman, dressed in a robe and pink slippers, making her way down the stairs with a fierce look in her little black eyes.

"Which one of you did it?" Said the robe clad woman, still making her way down the stairs. "Which one of you killed my dog?"

Her voice pierced his ears even more than the shrill scream. It burned as she spoke the words of scold.

"You don't know the meaning of the word 'neighbor'. Neighbors like each other and speak to each other...they don't care if anyone lives or-"

"HOLD IT!!" Came another harsh voice from farther below.

Geoff rolled his eyes and looked down at the lowest row of the ampa-theater. Another mess up, another screw loose. Eli was prepared to come up the steps once again.

And up he did come, wearing his black suit with the red tie. Black leather shoes with silver tips made the familiar noises of an upset man.

This was true, Eli was upset.

This was the fifth time this night that the scene was run through, and poor old slipper lady forgot that the "Don't" was indeed a "Do."

"Samantha, darling," Eli began, his frosted long hair coming loose from his low hung pony tail. Little strands dangled in front of his black eyes. "I know you are tempted to say 'don't'. Lord knows I was when I went through the read-out with Jonah. But after a few times we got it down pat. Hun, you're brilliant, you really are. And I know you can do this darling. Just please, this last time, say 'do'...remember, the neighbors do care that your dog died. They love you, they would do anything for your dog."

Samantha smiled sheepishly, her middle aged face wrinkled with the contortion.

"Alright, brilliant!" Eli said, turning about face and placing a hand near a strand of hair to move it out of the way. He turned around once more however, and Geoff noted that his face was a lighter shade of copper than before. Was he going pale? "Now, one more time ladies and gents. Let's do this like Brutis!"

Everyone returned to their places.

Samantha walked up the steps that were made of cheap wood, her slippers occasionally slipping off her little feet.

The red haired woman moved back to the fake dead bundle of fluff that lay near the Styrofoam garden.

And Geoff wheeled back to his original position on the small platform that would represent his apartment.

"Okay, one more time, then we'll call it a night," Eli said, a slight shrivel of hope in his tone. "Ready? And..."

Everyone turned their head as they heard the heavy pounding footsteps approach from the upper stands of the audience seats. Geoff wheeled forward a little and winced to see who decided to crash the rehearsal.

"Excuse me sir?" Eli's voice was slightly irritated. "Can I help you?"

Geoff only saw what seemed to be a behemoth of a man.

Seven feet tall at the least, bulking muscles in a tight gray shirt and black jeans. Geoff could not make out his face however, but did note that his frame was very square.

Other than that, even with the binoculars, he could not make out any distinctive features. No mouth, no nose, no eyes, no individualistic marks...nothing.

"Why, yes," A deep rumbling voice emerged from the hulking man. "I'm looking for the director of this play."

"Ah well, it's not just one person," Eli began calmly, brushing more of his strands of out his face and smirking a little. "It's me and my cousin, Jonah. We're both directing Alfred Hitchcock's 'Rear Window'. Lovely story really...is there something you needed?"

"Actually, I can come back later. What I needed isn't here, thank you anyway."

And that was that. He walked away, bulking arms and all.

Not one person said a word as Mr. Muscle stomped up the seat/steps of the ampa-theater and made his way to the dark red Corvette at the very top of the railings.

The car drove off, leaving dark skid-marks on the pavement.

Still, no one attempted to verbalize.

Though, Eli found it in his stomach to speak.

"Well," He started, now looking even more anemic-like. Geoff felt bad for him. "I think, it's safe to say we can just call it a night. I'll call Jonah and tell him how it went, but I would appreciate it if no one told him that the muscle man was here for him. Is that alright"

Everyone nodded, even the members of the cast on their break showed acknowledgment.

Some held coffee in their hands while some were stuck pouring sugar into their tea, and a few were even in the middle of a magazine, allowing the light draft to push a page or two.

"Thank you ladies and gents...until tomorrow."

Eli clapped his hands, and everyone broke off to get ready to go home.