BAD MOVIES is the faux movie star memoir of a sex change (in denial) who is now a z-movie star ...
It is the third novel in my Tinseltown Trilogy.
It got dark enough for my favorite scene. I was to do the primal fire spirit dance of universal womanhood, the dance of me to myself the Fertility Goddess of Creation, a true source of sexist box-office profits, or something like that. While waiting, I held myself, shivering, amazed at how quickly the desert cooled down after being so cruelly hot.
"Are you sure you don't need any blow for this?" Candy Cane asked, now wearing a jacket.
I shook my head and made a "stinky" face. He looked at me like he didn't take me seriously. So I said, "That stuff is really rude."
"When you fall of a horse, you jump back on."
"I'm acting, right now," I told him. "Acting doesn't need coke. I did without it all day. I don't need it now."
"Whatever." He put the envelope away and then went and lit two big fires to illuminate the scene. A few torches were also lit in the background, to give the shot some depth. Otherwise the background desert at night is rather dark and that doesn't show up well. I stood between the bonfires and waited in my warm place, breathing deeply, trying to meditate my mind to a primordial place of righteous matriarchy. My bones ached from running around in the sun all day but I couldn't allow myself to show that in front of an uncaring camera. I had to seem immortal.
"Action," the cameraman shouted. Though we were now all dead tired, he sounded interested for once. I shot off like a cannon ball, jumping and thrusting and gyrating. I screamed like a mad woman. I twirled. I bravely kicked at the fire. I vibrated and shimmied so my butt-cheeks wiggled. I threw sand up into the air. When I ran out of things to think to do I fell to my butt, gasping from exhaustion. "Cut."
For my effort, I receiving a well-deserved applause from the cameraman, caveman co-star, and Candy Cane, as I fell the rest of the way back on my back.
"Zowie you jumped!" Candy Cane gasped. "That was serious! Wow! You all right?"
"I bit my tongue," I admitted to him. "I hate it when I do that."