(no subject)
Okay.
Okay, so maybe running away from Los Angeles to Ithaca, New York the weekend before production on the show after the Christmas break was to start up again wasn't such a good idea. But Matt thinks he's atoned for that by now. Really, this has gotten ridiculous. He's got no laptop, no studio, no deadlines, no nothing -- except for Danny, who is still in Jordan withdrawal, and Harriet, who has yet to believe that Milliways is something more than a new set she's gotten locked into.
So, obviously, it could be worse, but Matt is getting cagey. Actually, forget "getting" -- Matt has been pacing the same circuit through the Bar for so long he's lost track of the days completely. The rounds always include stalking past the empty wall where the door out should be, and hurling his tennis ball at the blank spot before cursing and moving on. It's been that way for weeks, month, years, he doesn't even know anymore. It's gotten to be routine, the prisoner and the jailer taking out their revenge on each other.
The thing is, today, something's off. The ball cracks against a door. Matt stands there staring as the ball bounces and rolls under a table and out of sight. He rubs his eyes for a minute, then gives the handle a tug.
Cold, parched Upstate air blasts him where he stands.
He doesn't even take the time for triumph. Matt barrels back to the guest rooms and throws open Danny's door without knocking. "It's back! Now's our chance. Come on, we gotta go!"
Okay, so maybe running away from Los Angeles to Ithaca, New York the weekend before production on the show after the Christmas break was to start up again wasn't such a good idea. But Matt thinks he's atoned for that by now. Really, this has gotten ridiculous. He's got no laptop, no studio, no deadlines, no nothing -- except for Danny, who is still in Jordan withdrawal, and Harriet, who has yet to believe that Milliways is something more than a new set she's gotten locked into.
So, obviously, it could be worse, but Matt is getting cagey. Actually, forget "getting" -- Matt has been pacing the same circuit through the Bar for so long he's lost track of the days completely. The rounds always include stalking past the empty wall where the door out should be, and hurling his tennis ball at the blank spot before cursing and moving on. It's been that way for weeks, month, years, he doesn't even know anymore. It's gotten to be routine, the prisoner and the jailer taking out their revenge on each other.
The thing is, today, something's off. The ball cracks against a door. Matt stands there staring as the ball bounces and rolls under a table and out of sight. He rubs his eyes for a minute, then gives the handle a tug.
Cold, parched Upstate air blasts him where he stands.
He doesn't even take the time for triumph. Matt barrels back to the guest rooms and throws open Danny's door without knocking. "It's back! Now's our chance. Come on, we gotta go!"