I’m Back.

Today’s Music: Hello – Back In A New York Groove

(The other bookend from my break begun here.)
FADE IN

Interior – A STUDIO is a hive of activity. Stats, plug-ins, links scroll over large HD monitors mounted on the walls. Several ENGINEERS fiddle with switches and slides on their starship-like consoles.
A TECH moves to a microphone

Tech: Sibilance. Sibilance. Check. One two three. Sibilance
Engineer: Hold on Tommy. George! Check out the cabling on mic 1. Something ain’t right.

GEORGE picks a cable off the floor and traces it thorugh it’s connections. He stops, unplugs and reseats a connection, giving a thumbs up to the engineer.

Engineer: K, try it again.
Tech: Sibilance. Sibilance. One two three.
Engineer: Sounds good. Where’s Guap?
George: In his dressing room, I think.

“DAMMIT!!!!”
All heads turn to the dressing room door. It flings outward, a terrified INTERN rushing from the room.
EL GUAPO exits, resplendent in a freshly ironed Hawaiian shirt, of the finest polyester, his boats shoes scuffed and bent in the way only the most comfortable shoes become.
El Guapo: I said halfcafdoublespresstriplefrappvanillachino with skim milk. THIS IS ONE PERCENT!!!
He hurls the offending cup where it splatters iridescently against the wall.

Engineer: Uh, Guap…we gotta record the blog promo. WordPress expects us back on the air soon.
El Guapo: Effin corporate overlords.
He strides to the mic. Pausing only to slick back his hair and adjust his imitation plastic Ray Bans, he begins speaking as Today’s Music swells on the speakers behind him

“Hi there! Remember me? Well, I’m back! Nanny nanny boo boo!”

Dude, this makes you look like a pezhead. You’re an idiot, not a pezhead.
But…
Seriously dude. Redo it.

FADE IN

EXTERIOR – a rundown roadside inn at night, in the rain. A flash of night shows us several horses hitched to the railing post in front as the camera moves through the swinging door to the INTERIOR. The patrons cower in a corner. three outlaws watch the crowd over the barrels of their guns.
their LEADER paces back an forth in front of them.
Leader: I don’t understand this misplaced affection you have for him. He abandoned you. How can you defend him now?
Patron: He didn’t abandon us. He just took a short break.
Leader (scoffing) Just tell us where he is.

A sound comes from the bar. The leader and his men whirl. There sits EL GUAPO, his brown leather outback hat dripping rain water, a tall glass of tequila in front of him.
El Guapo: This blog ain’t big enough for the both of us, Overlord.
He stands up.
The LEADER faces him.
Leader: Ok then. *his hand moves toward his holster* POST!
A flash of light and noise, bits blazing across the ether. El Guapo holds up his tablet and presses Post.
Leader’s hand clutches his chest and he falls to the floor
Leader: Always knew the…Poetry Slam…would…get me…
Leader dies.
Patron: You’ve saved us!
Comely Buxom Patron:How about a naked bar dance, Guap?
El Guapo turns to the camera and waggles his eyebrows.

Waggles his eyebrows? Dude, this is even worse. You’re gonna lose followers.
Sigh.
Yeah yeah, just do it again.And be straight with em.

FADE IN
INTERIOR – El Guapo sits back, laptop in…well…his lap. He types the following and posts.

I’m back! Still fighting the corporate overlords, but it’s too much fun here to stay away. See y’all later this week, and the first round’s on me.

FADE OUT