And now for something completely different...

"Get over here, wrench" the man said to Gwen.

She looked up at him and started laughing.

"What? What did I say?" the man asked.

"You blew your lines again, Harry!" she said, still laughing. "It's supposed to be wench, not wrench!"

He looked up at her, completely clueless. "Are you sure about that, Ophelia? Let me see the script!" He looked over the script. "Bloody typos! I wish Kestrels would get it right the first time!"

A man walked out on to the set. He was a portly fellow with long hair and a gray beard. He was dressed in jeans and a "Bad Ernie" tee shirt, and was also wearing a Pittsburgh Steelers bandanna on his head. He lowered his bifocals to look at Harry. "Let me see the script, Harry" he said. Harry handed him the script. He looked it over for a bit, then took a pen and started to scratch out some lines while rewriting others. He handed the script back to Harry.

"What is this?" said Harry as he read the changes. "We're supposed to have sex! I'm supposed to pop her cherry! These changes make me look like a total knee biting jerk!"

Ophelia walked over. "Let me see the script, Harry." She took the script, and read the changes. Ophelia smiled, and threw her arms around Kestrel's neck. "I love the changes!"

Kestrels looked into her violet eyes. "Does this mean we're still on for tonight?"

"Mmmm," she said with a naughty smile. "Tonight, and every night!"

Harry, still upset over the changes, continued to argue his case. "But I'm the ****! Rapists ****! They don't put their face in their hands and cry, while their potential victims get dressed and walk out the door!"

Kestrels glared at Harry. "Listen, your part is a bit part. She's not supposed to lose her virginity to someone who has a bit part. The original author of the story would rather have her lose her virginity to one of the main characters. Either Lance or Arthur. It hasn't been decided yet which one. I'm sorry, but that's just the way it goes. At least you get some exposure in this story, and maybe some other writer will give you a bigger part in their next story. Probably as a whiny little crybaby who doesn't get laid, if you keep this up."

"All right, Kestrels, I see your point. Besides, the changes do show off my diversity as an actor."

"Exactly, Harry. Why don't we break for lunch, everyone? We'll get back to this later."

Ophelia sauntered off the set, following Kestrels to the writer's room. As she entered the room, many voices were heard hooting and whistling. One writer yelled out "Now that's a well written body!"

Harry sat down on the bed on the set, opened his black lunch box, and unwrapped a sandwich. "Baloney again!" he said with a sigh.