The big Hollywood producer looks up from the papers on his desk and recognizes the writer across from him. From behind the producer’s desk, a large painting of Mr. Big smiles down on the two of them. Being new to the Hollywood scene, this is the writer’s first meeting with a Mr. Big. He sits stiff in the chair and hopes this will be his big break.
“Sam?” Mr. Big says. “I can call you Sam?” Without waiting for a response, the producer continues. “Just bought a Broadway hit. Think you can handle the adapt?”
Sam starts to say yes. Before he can, Mr. Big goes on, “A fellow named Shakespeare wrote it. Ever hear of him? Me neither. Well, we paid big bucks for the play. It’s called Macbeth and it’s got everything. We think it can be one of our blockbusters next summer.”
“No problem,” Sam says. “I can handle it.” He takes out his small notebook to take down his orders.
“Of course you can. That Pulitzer you won last year says it all. Anyway, Sammy Baby, we need some changes.”
“The play starts off with three witches. Well, witches aren’t in this year. Wizards are. So three wizards it is.”
The writer writes down “three wizards” in his notebook.
“Macbeth, or Mac as he will be named in the movie,” Mr. Big’s voice rises as he becomes excited about the production. “He will be a second string quarterback. Played by Johnny Up-and-coming.”
A question appears on Sam’s face.
“You know the guy who was in that movie about tin cans.”
“Yeah. The cans turn into big ass trucks. He’ll be perfect. And what’s more. We can get him for a song. Anyway he’s a second string quarterback.”
“So he kills the first string quarterback?”
“No, no, no.” Mr. Big shakes his head and frowns that the writer doesn’t get the direction he’s going. “Can’t have Pretty Boy killing nobody. He’s our hero.”
There’s confusion on the writer’s face.
“It’s his cheerleader girlfriend who does the murder. Mac would never do that. First String is his best friend. And, oh yeah,” Mr. Big’s voice goes into flight with excitement, “I forgot to tell you the really good part.”
Writer can’t believe his ears. All he can say, “The good part?”
“She’s a vampire. Call her Selene after the vamp in Underworld.”
“Vampire?” Sam asks, totally confused by now.
“Yeah, vampires are big these days. So she’s got to be a vampire. And remember those wizards. They’re zombies. Got to be zombies.”
“Yeah, Sammy Baby, add zombies and we have an extra hundred mil in profits. Zombies are really in, you know.”
Before the producer can continue, the writer stands up.
“I don’t think I am your man to do this project.”
“What?” Mr. Big rises out of his chair. “Listen, you don’t take this, you’ll not work in this town.”
“If this is Hollywood, I don’t think I want to work in this town. I’m goin back to Omaha.”
Shaking his head, Writer turns and walks out of the office. With his dignity.