Dream: Bound and the Bookseller's Potluck
My first dream badly rehashed the events of Bound, which I'd just watched. (It was excellent.) Normally I wouldn't even mention it, but after that:
I stood by the entrance to the small room. sinister_dr_x sat at the round patio table; his narrow associate lurked back a few paces. nemoren stood with her hands on the back of an empty chair; a heavy-set blond womanearly 30's, short, straight hair feathered professionallyoccupied the third seat. She reviewed a script that sinister_dr_x had given her. One of us had just read for the other lead role and returned the second copy to the table.
Nervous perspiration prickled my brow. I focused on sinister_dr_x's shady associate, tried to divine whether he was packing without staring at him, which occupied me enough that I didn't glance at nemoren every couple minutes. She and I had just pulled off the heist from Bound, and I thought we'd gotten away with it until I heard the script.
sinister_dr_x had written the movie's screenplay, or something a lot like it, and he kept asking the blond stranger about the details. "Does this part happen fast enough? Would that work? How long should it take the cops to arrive?" She gave him knowledgeable input, but I could tell she was only a civilian, maybe a writer or a former cog somewhere in the system. sinister_dr_x's questions entertained her, but she was just helping him edit. I could tell from his voice, though, and the from the way his shady partner leaned closer to listen; the two of them were planning a crime. He'd written it out as a draft script to check for problems, but they really intended to do it.
She finished the script and I tensed to dive for cover; would sinister_dr_x eliminate his readers before they pulled the job? He'd shoot the stranger first; maybe nemoren and I could get to the door? Wait, he's still talking. Something about buying it back? sinister_dr_x slid a handful of bills across the table.
"Don't bother," the stranger said charitably. "You can have it. Besides, it's not notarized for IP anyway. You'd have to be the executor, or something; those laws are complicated."
"It is and I am," sinister_dr_x said, flipping over the coversheet. A handwritten statement and a few signature lines encapsulated all the intellectual property rights to the script. "Which means you have to sign it, since you've already agreed."
I tried to keep up while the stranger signed. He's buying back the rights... which she thinks is silly for a mediocre eight-page screenplay. But what he really wants is to keep her from knowing about it, so she can't figure out it was him after they pull the job? Ohhh. And to make sure she can't pull the same job before they do. So, no shooting.
nemoren grabbed my elbow and we excused ourselves from the gathering. We had to get out of town before sinister_dr_x and his associate tried anything and figured out we'd already stolen the money.
We pulled off the interstate for gas. The station hid on a low rise at the back of a broad, circular driveway. Rural stations like this didn't need big signs; everyone knows where they are. The gently convex brick walls and banks of windows hadn't changed since the 30's.
"Practically a fortress," xcorvis said as we walked from the car.
"Looks like a good place to fend off a zombie attack," I joked.
"Help yourself to some dinner," the owner said. His overalls made him look thin. The raggedy red hair and beard as an afterthought said "mechanic." We filed inside, but xcorvis stopped at the door. He'd seen gnfnrf's jeep on the freeway and ran out to flag him down. (We were caravaning for the road trip, and he was following us without directions.)
The large side room held a banquet of church potluck food, minus the spaghetti and jello-based dishes. The bookshelves lining the walls were evenly split between the usual independent fare, comic books, and used high school textbooks. nemoren and gunn helped devilstears find things she could eat. Everyone that passed the huge pot of turkey stew got excited until they figured out it was "meatless," which meant it only had other turkey parts. (Plus carrots, potatoes, parsley, and a lot of black pepper.) devilstears found a plate of small, round pink things which turned out to be books glazed with strawberry juice and powdered sugar. malcubed browsed the comics, some of which hadn't sold since the station opened.
I stood by the entrance to the small room. sinister_dr_x sat at the round patio table; his narrow associate lurked back a few paces. nemoren stood with her hands on the back of an empty chair; a heavy-set blond womanearly 30's, short, straight hair feathered professionallyoccupied the third seat. She reviewed a script that sinister_dr_x had given her. One of us had just read for the other lead role and returned the second copy to the table.
Nervous perspiration prickled my brow. I focused on sinister_dr_x's shady associate, tried to divine whether he was packing without staring at him, which occupied me enough that I didn't glance at nemoren every couple minutes. She and I had just pulled off the heist from Bound, and I thought we'd gotten away with it until I heard the script.
sinister_dr_x had written the movie's screenplay, or something a lot like it, and he kept asking the blond stranger about the details. "Does this part happen fast enough? Would that work? How long should it take the cops to arrive?" She gave him knowledgeable input, but I could tell she was only a civilian, maybe a writer or a former cog somewhere in the system. sinister_dr_x's questions entertained her, but she was just helping him edit. I could tell from his voice, though, and the from the way his shady partner leaned closer to listen; the two of them were planning a crime. He'd written it out as a draft script to check for problems, but they really intended to do it.
She finished the script and I tensed to dive for cover; would sinister_dr_x eliminate his readers before they pulled the job? He'd shoot the stranger first; maybe nemoren and I could get to the door? Wait, he's still talking. Something about buying it back? sinister_dr_x slid a handful of bills across the table.
"Don't bother," the stranger said charitably. "You can have it. Besides, it's not notarized for IP anyway. You'd have to be the executor, or something; those laws are complicated."
"It is and I am," sinister_dr_x said, flipping over the coversheet. A handwritten statement and a few signature lines encapsulated all the intellectual property rights to the script. "Which means you have to sign it, since you've already agreed."
I tried to keep up while the stranger signed. He's buying back the rights... which she thinks is silly for a mediocre eight-page screenplay. But what he really wants is to keep her from knowing about it, so she can't figure out it was him after they pull the job? Ohhh. And to make sure she can't pull the same job before they do. So, no shooting.
nemoren grabbed my elbow and we excused ourselves from the gathering. We had to get out of town before sinister_dr_x and his associate tried anything and figured out we'd already stolen the money.
We pulled off the interstate for gas. The station hid on a low rise at the back of a broad, circular driveway. Rural stations like this didn't need big signs; everyone knows where they are. The gently convex brick walls and banks of windows hadn't changed since the 30's.
"Practically a fortress," xcorvis said as we walked from the car.
"Looks like a good place to fend off a zombie attack," I joked.
"Help yourself to some dinner," the owner said. His overalls made him look thin. The raggedy red hair and beard as an afterthought said "mechanic." We filed inside, but xcorvis stopped at the door. He'd seen gnfnrf's jeep on the freeway and ran out to flag him down. (We were caravaning for the road trip, and he was following us without directions.)
The large side room held a banquet of church potluck food, minus the spaghetti and jello-based dishes. The bookshelves lining the walls were evenly split between the usual independent fare, comic books, and used high school textbooks. nemoren and gunn helped devilstears find things she could eat. Everyone that passed the huge pot of turkey stew got excited until they figured out it was "meatless," which meant it only had other turkey parts. (Plus carrots, potatoes, parsley, and a lot of black pepper.) devilstears found a plate of small, round pink things which turned out to be books glazed with strawberry juice and powdered sugar. malcubed browsed the comics, some of which hadn't sold since the station opened.