PenPals

Pen Pals Pointless Postings
#3: Director's Production Diary
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Hello, I am acclaimed theatrical director Lars Griffindur. Although I was reluctant to keep a diary of my work on Pen Pals at first, I am now very glad that I did; it will soon be used as evidence in the 3 civil suits I have launched against Holm Bradwell and Andrew Patterson, the “performers” of this upcoming “production”. I hope you enjoy reading this log as much as I enjoy daydreaming about the sweet release of death.

Day 1: I had my first meeting with my two actors. They showed up 45 minutes late and dripping in what smelled like a combination of cheap vermouth and lighter fluid. They sincerely apologized for their tardiness, explaining that their streetcar was, at first, late and then spontaneously caught fire. Sadly, we had almost no time to practice. The moment I handed out scripts, Holm had to leave for an emergency eyebrow waxing while Andrew simply passed out on floor where he intermittently snored and wet himself.

Day 5: The rehearsal process has proved slightly more challenging than I first anticipated. Holm insists that he should be in roller-skates for the entire show. While he justifies this choice through what he claims is a ‘nuanced understand of my character and shit’, I’m almost certain he simply does not know how to get his skates off. For the sake of harmony, I would be willing to give in; however, it appears that Holm has no idea how to skate. I’ve started having a small cocktail after practice to calm my nerves.

Day 9: Andrew cannot remember his lines. This is, I believe, primarily because he has yet to read them. He feels that lines are too constricting and don’t allow for authentic emotional creation. It seems his idea of authentic emotional creation consists of running round the stage, asking the other actors to pull his finger. When I asked him if he could take at least one look at his script, he accused me of ‘karmic rape’ and would not stop crying until I brought him a club sandwich. I have started drinking a bottle of red wine before each rehearsal to calm my nerves and a bottle after to forget.

Day 13: Both Holm and Andrew have stopped coming to rehearsals. They sent a couple of homeless men in their place. While initially alarming, Stabbin’ Mike and Dr. Prozac turned out to be much more capable actors than my original twosome. Despite repeated psychotic breaks and one stabbing – you got me, Mike – we got a lot accomplished. After rehearsal, Dr. Prozac and I split something that looked and tasted like windshield wiper fluid. I can’t feel my left foot.

Day 17: So cold….So very cold…..BATS!!!

Day 24: I called a general meeting today so I could set things right with my cast. I told them that if this show was going to work they need to follow orders, show up on time, learn their lines and stop acting like a couple of spoiled babies. I think we’ve finally turned a corner. There was a moment, somewhere between them slamming my head against a wall and tossing me through a plate-glass window, that I really felt I had gotten through to them. Of course, that could just be the Demerol talking.