What was I expecting when I pulled into the driveway: a Victorian Gothic pile looming like the house behind the Bates Motel? It was a yellow ranch-style house with a tidy lawn. Nothing about its prosaic exterior suggested the Monster… Continue Reading
Here’s how shit-canning works at our shop. Near the end of the day one is summoned to a conference room to sign papers and abide ritual expressions of sympathy. Then, one must leave the building immediately. Shortly after close of… Continue Reading
The director cursed under his breath for the fourth time. “Goddamnit! He’s shaking again.” He turned to his assistant. “Does our star have a problem that I don’t know about? Is he taking something?” “Not that I know of, seems… Continue Reading