__07.04.2003 @ 12:27_______
Nutbar was bored. He had been sat in this trailer for hours and nothing had happened. His owner, Val Kilmer had not even popped his head round the door to see how he was getting on. It had been like this for over a week now. Val had taken an acting job on a period science fiction piece about a mutant coffee table and this particular phase of filming was taking place in the middle of the sahara desert. Nutbar wasn't quite sure why they needed to build a full scale replica of Detroit in the desert but that was what they had done. He half suspected it had been Val's idea and the hollywood suits had been too afraid to say no.
The trailer was pretty nice Nutbar had to admit. There was a jacuzzi in the corner and a big entertainment system with some very comfy sofas for him to lie on as he watched reruns of the littlest hobo. Nutbar knew he had no real right to moan but he didnt let that stop him.
Nutbar was getting bored of the littlest hobo. In this morning of viewing alone the dog had saved four small children, befirended three old men and refused to stick around with any of them. What exactly was the dog looking for? why couldn't he stick around in once place? In Nutbar's estimation the dog was a fool.
Nutbar had had enough. He didn't need to see the rest of this episode. He was pretty sure that the littlest hobo was going to help young jimmy conquer his fear of heights. Nutbar got up and wandered out of his trailer and onto the set. It really was a rather impressive site. If you ignored the fact it was all made from plywood then you could easily fool yourself into thinking it was the real Detroit.
Val was in the middle of filming a scene. His clothes were all frilly collars and flowery designs. In Nutbar's view he looked an utter knob. Nutbar was right too.
"Come quickly! Follow Me!" screamed Val making his best attempt at emoting and pointing at a blank space where special effects would be added later. He grabbed the actress doing the scene with him. "Look my dear, the coffee table has bred. We must get out of here!" They then both ran off down the street screaming.
A man stood up at the front of the set and shouted "Cut" into a bullhorn. It was Francis Ford Coppola. Clearly slumming it to pay some bills. Val jogged back up the set to talk to him. "was that ok Mister Coppola? I liked that one." he asked eagerly.
"Yeah yeah. It will do." said Coppola with a sigh as he brushed Kilmer aside to go talk to his director of photography.
Nutbar ran up to Val to try for some affection. He was here stuck out in the middle of the desert so he thought the very least Val could provide would be a bit of belly rubbing from time to time. Val saw him and greeted him with a smile.
"did you see that boy? I think this is the one i'm going to get my Oscar for. I mean the acadamy must know its time i was rewarded for my efforts. I am after all the greatest actor alive today." said Val with worrying seriousness.
Nutbar looked at him quietly for a moment. Then bit him in the balls and ran off.
The End.
Inspiration For This Tale: none really. although the detroit bit comes from hearing the white stripes interviewed on the radio earlier.
Sensory Input For This Tale: Letfield - Leftism
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