Joanne falls in love with an equally tall hunk. Who should play the part?
Joanne falls in love with an equally tall hunk. Who should play the part?
After cleaning up, producers have announced that Britney Spears will be joining cast and crew as they resume filming in the coming weeks. Britney will be playing the role of the not-so-nice giant 'Beth'
I'm back and need my fellow 'Sugars' to lend a helping hand. Despite the Hollywood writers' strike, I am continuing my story, "Prisha's Travels, The Movie", the ongoing comedy/drama playing out here on our very own Team Sugar site. I would like to know if people would like to be cast as 'Beth' or 'Tanya' in the story. It's all in clean fun and you would become an instant Hollywood star!
Please read "Prisha's Travels" and the as-yet unfinished followup, "Prisha's Travels, The Movie" for more details. See you on the Red Carpet!
Love, Prisha ;-)
The mid-morning sun shone brightly through the thoroughly modern webbed-glass and white steel-beamed roof onto the shiny marble floors, freshly waxed and polished the prior night by dutiful cleaning crews. Rows of desks bedecked with the latest design in office lamps and LCD computers screens sat crisply among the signage and banners informing customers of the latest interest rates, saving bonds information and other banking products. Portraits of the financial institution’s founders, dating back over 100 years, sat high and mighty on the cherry-wood walls. The two-story atrium-style bank branch was an airy place, providing ample natural light that kept some twenty bank tellers, ten private bankers and milling customers alike in good spirits on any given day. The proud bank building was an historic structure saved from demolition, modernized and now next to, and connected to, the 40-story Kelly Monaco Building whose construction was completed only two years ago. The KM Building was constructed to house the writers and other staff of the shows, “General Hospital, Night Shift” and “GH, Private Practice.”
“I want everyone to remain quiet and don’t move an inch!” Caroline firmly reminded over twenty stunned bank customers who sat helpless, bound and gagged as two other gunman kept guard and three others forced tellers and other bank employees into a back room. As the ringleader, Caroline was the first female in history to lead such a bold heist. The men she lead were making quick work emptying teller drawers of cash and taking valuables from safe deposit boxes. “I’m making progress with the manager getting into the secondary vault,” Frederick informed Caroline into her earpiece.
The police and SWAT had surrounded the building and blocked off all means of escape. However, this courageous crew that had been planning this bank bust for over a year, had access to several get-away cars placed in strategic locations around the neighborhood, a move meant to thwart the tight ring the police were expected to have placed around the bank.
“How’s it coming, Joe?” Caroline asked of the crew’s expert safecracker as he toiled in the banks main vault, sweating eagerly to gain access to millions and millions of dollars in bearer bonds. “It’s taking a little longer than I thought, but I think it should be only a couple of more minutes,” the adrenaline-pumped thief nervously informed Caroline. Meanwhile, bound and tied bank customers and tellers, ordinarily buzzing among themselves with the trappings of deposits and withdrawals, sat helpless, the knowledge they were in this together the only means of comfort during such a traumatic experience.
Time passed at a snail’s pace for kidnapped depositors and bank staff, minutes weighing on them like hours. Unbeknownst to the helpless hostages, however, they could already smell the end of the well-laid plans of these professional baddies. Tellers were the first to notice a change in the air as they sat blindfolded on the floor; eyesight disabled but not their sense of smell. Ordinarily, the bank’s modern ventilation system piped in fresh air from the outside, its industrial strength filters removing toxins and other odors that dared creep in; the resulting fresh indoor air was an odorless comfortable 68 degrees. To the tellers, the disruption of routine in their olfactory senses was a clear as the bank robbers in their presence.
The women among them were the first to make the connection. “I smell Nivea skin moisturizer,” a 25-year old teller whispered to another through her mouth gag. “I know, it’s really weird, it just started, a strong lotiony smell. I have the same stuff at home” the other teller responded. The robbers were too busy to notice until….THUD….THUD….THUD. Pictures on the walls began to sway off-center as computer screens bounced and stray pens and pencils rolled off desks onto the floor. Joe, the master safecracker momentarily paused from his blowtorch at the vault, curious as to what might be causing the shaking. Remembering that one of his colleague was supposed to be applying a sledgehammer to one of the vaults, Joe returned to his loud torch, ignoring the rumble.
“What….? Who…? Oh…my….god!” Caroline gasped, machine gun dropping to her side as the bright sun beaming in from the clear glass ceiling above abruptly gave way to partial darkness. A stunned Caroline could only watch, mouth gaping, beholding what those in blindfolds could not.
IS THIS IT? Joanne asked the police as she peered in through the pretty glass top of the low-rise bank structure. Joanne’s big brown eyes gazed in over the crime scene like twin suns, larger-than-life lashes fluttering like giant brushes against the glass. From Joann’s vantage point, she could see everyone in the bank, even those in back offices since the clear roof extended the entire width and length of the building. Kneeling down on the adjacent street, the 120’ Joanne placed her feet and knees among vehicles and trees, resting her long arms and hands on the roof of the bank, her limbs seemingly wrapping around the glass dome. Office workers high up in the attached Kelly Monaco Bldg peered down in amazement as Joanne made herself at home among all the chaos. Momentarily uncomfortable, Joanne adjusted her right foot on the street, a loose big toe colliding with a car, partially crushing in its roof and popping its tires. OOOPSY!
As Joanne studied all the people in the bank, whom, from her vantage looked like gerbils in a cage, Joanne fingered the roof, looking to pick apart windowpanes to gain access inside. As she felt for cracks, her fingertips scrolling the glassy landscape that sealed the mayhem inside, a helicopter approached, hovering just above Joanne’s brunette-ness. Joanne watched as hooks were lowered as at the same time she located a space from which to peel back one glass roof panel. With one large pane in hand, Joanne managed to fasten it to the hook, the helicopter flying off, leaving a ten-foot by ten-foot opening for Joanne to reach into, just enough space for one hand to fit.
Smiling with satisfaction, Joanne spotted the safecracker Joe, donned in conspicuous thievery attire as he fruitlessly huddled under a desk that sat conveniently within eyeshot and reach of the humongous Hollywood heroine. Slowly, carefully, Joanne placed her fingers in the roof’s opening, then the rest of her hand as her wrist, then arms descended their way down the opening until her man-sized fingers made contact with the maculate-free marble floor, each digit standing the height of an average person as Joanne “walked” two of them along the floor in the direction of the cowering thief, gigantic fingerprints impressing on the shiny surface. WOW, THIS FEELS JUST LIKE PLAYING DOLLHOUSE, Joanne boomed from high above as she moved desks and chairs with one finger. Joe watched in terror as the tall ladyfingers waltzed their way in his direction, and then tapped abruptly on the desk from which he hid behind. Looking up at the ceiling, Joanne’s imposing and beautiful face filled his vision, Joe frozen with disbelief. Then, with the quickness of a snapping rubber band, Joanne snatched the man by the collar, lifting the screaming thief high in the air, the ambitious robber disappearing from view as he ascended through the roof’s opening.
NOW, WHAT DO WE HAVE HERE? Joanne marveled as she held the man in her left hand, the sound of cheering police officers and bystanders on nearby streets and sidewalks accompanying the man’s useless pleas to be let go. “Please, I’ll do anything you want, just put me down,” the man begged. Joanne smiled, taking her time to enjoy the monster-movie-like experience. Spotting a machinegun fastened across his shoulders, Joanne snapped it from him with the fingers on her right hand, placing the tiny gun in her shorts pocket. NOW, HOW TOUGH DO YOU FEEL NOW, MR. BANK ROBBER? Joanne teased. I BET IT MUST FEEL SO UNFAIR TO BE BUSTED THIS WAY. I MEAN, IMAGINE, TELLING ALL THOSE BIG GUYS IN PRISON THAT A GIRL STOPPED YOU, Joanne purred as she relished the fun. “Please, put me down!” the man cried. Joanne giggled as she lowered the thief to the street between two police cars, the cops eagerly cuffing the suspect as Joanne watched in satisfaction.
The cheering crowds and words of gratitude from the police bought the remaining robbers some time to escape, leaving the many hostages to fend for themselves as they sat clueless behind blindfolds in deep vaults, unaware of the enormous help that recently showed up. Caroline and her crew dashed down a sub-basement stairwell leading to subterranean pathways along the sewer system, where they emerged a block away, get away car ready and waiting, just outside the police barricades.
As Joanne peered back into the bank building, framing her eyes with her hands as she studied the activity inside, examining all the people to determine who else was among the guilty, a loud squeal and a bang managed to creep far up into her ears. The other five robbers sat crammed in a large sedan as it howled, screeched and strained furiously to vacate the scene. Joanne and the authorities at her feet were quick to turn their heads as bystanders pointed and heckled at the cowardly capers in the getaway car.
The police, who ordinarily would not have spared a half second to pursue the vehicle, watched with contentment as Joanne gracefully turned her head, smiling in fun; she and everyone were caught up in the anticipation of what Joanne had in store for the hopelessly fleeing vehicle. “Move it!” one criminal shouted to the driver as the automobile found its sea legs on the multi-laned street, hundreds of bystanders gawking. Joanne watched from high, her eyes following he vehicle as easily as her feet would in just a minute as she plotted her course, registering all the obstacles in her way; people, parked cars and other streetscape. BOOM – Joanne extended her enormous left leg over the mass of squad cars beside her, placing her left foot solidly in the street. BOOM Her right leg swung like a crane, positing her right foot adjacent the other, all ten toes in a row, wrapped in leather sandals set to pursue.
THUD, THUD, THUD. Joanne’s gentle stride brought her past lines of people on sidewalks cheering her on. “Jo-anne! Jo-anne! Jo-anne!” was shouted along with “You Go Girl!” as the starlet breezed by, leaving in her wake the pretty and effervescent aroma of Nivea body lotion and moisturizes along with the occasional crack in the pavement. “Oh My God! She’s Coming!” the robbers shouted among themselves as they looked out the back window. The phrase, “Objects In Mirror May Be Closer Than They Appear” etched on the side rearview mirrors was comically accurate. Joanne’s feet could have been Mack Trucks; her freshly painted and polished toes, each seemingly smiling into the car at the exasperated escapees. The driver took his eyes off the road as he watched Joanne’s left foot ascend above and over the car and onto the street before him, the heel of her foot dropping like a boulder, planted like a redwood mere yards ahead of him, the ABS brakes slamming as the car skidded to a halt, Joanne’s imposing legs towering above the five doomed passengers, the large sedan sitting like nothing more than a cornered mouse far below the tightly sewn seams of Joanne’s stylish white beach shorts, its attached trendy black belt and shiny buckle screaming style down to the quivering crime suspects. Quick on her feet, Joanne shuffled them so as to block the doors, sealing the people’s fate in walls of soft skin. Joanne leisurely primped her hair and adjusted her clothing for comfort as she smiled in anticipation of the enjoyment afforded her by the fact that these criminals need to be humbled.
Waving to bystanders who cheered her on, Joanne slowly reached down between her feet with her right hand, as jaw-droppingly long fingers seemed to swallow the car. Joanne gripped the vehicle, eclipsing any natural light its occupants enjoyed. The robbers screamed in a fit as they tried to open doors and roll down windows. Airsickness overcame them and their stomachs churned from the sudden and forceful motion of Joanne lifting the car off the ground.
Joanne slowly brought the vehicle to her face, taking in deep breaths, visualizing herself as ‘Prisha’ since the film crew and every news camera in the world were recoding every move and she was determined to get every frame right for the final edition of “Prisha’ s Travels – The Movie.”
Placing the car in her open left hand as she positioned it in front of her eyes, sunlight again graced its occupants. Only Joanne’s lovely lush lashes won attention over the baking sun’s yellowy disposition. Joanne tapped on the driver’s window with one of her right hand fingers. The disturbing sound rattled the robbers as they fumbled in their seats. HEY PEEPS, NICE DAY, ISN’T IT? Joanne beamed. NOW ROLL DOWN YOUR WINDOW. A gentle breeze filled the air as the driver nervously complied, the wind tussling Joanne’s hair, several strands resting on the car, two strands reaching inside as it tangled with the driver.
“You’re the greatest, Joanne!” a man far below on the nearby sidewalk yelled high up. Joanne rolled her eyes in delight.
NOW, ALL OF YOU IN THE CAR WILL CALL ME ‘PRISHA’ SINCE YOU ARE NOW MY CO-STARS AND FILMING IS TAKING PLACE THIS SECOND. WHENEVER YOU SPEAK TO ME, IT’S ‘YES, PRISHA.’ WE HAVE TO GET THIS SCENE RIGHT OR WE’RE JUST GONNA HAVE TO START ALL OVER, Joanne warned. “We give up!” one of the criminals in the backseat offered loudly. Joanne laughed. YOU GAVE UP THE MINUTE I LAID EYES ON THAT BANK BACK THERE. YOU JUST DIDN’T KNOW IT THEN, Joanne giggled as she eyed the back of the car. WELL, FIRST, FORK OVER THE CASH AND OTHER CRAP YOU STOLE FROM PEOPLE! “It’s in the trunk, I’ll open it,” the driver responded as he reached for the lever at his feet. ARE YOU FORGTETING SOMETHING? Joanne playfully gasped. The driver was baffled and taken off-guard. HELLO?!@? Joanne up-talked, mouth gaping in mock disbelief. “Um, it’s in the trunk, I’ll open it…Prisha,” the driver humbly corrected. However, before his fingers felt the knob, the roar and rip of the trunk’s top being peeled off sent shivers down the thieves’ spines, Joanne separating the hinges from the car and tossing the metal scrap to the street below.
YOU PEOPLE ARE SO CHEAP. YOU HELD UP A BANK FOR THIS? Joanne held five garbage bags full of cash in her right hand. THIS IS POCKET CHANGE, Joanne poked fun before kneeling down to place the stolen loot on the street next to a police car. Rising again to her full height, Joanne scolded, YOU THINK BECAUSE YOU HAVE GUNS YOU CAN TAKE ADVANTAGE OF PEOPLE? NOW, WHAT WOULD PEOPLE THINK IF I DECIDED TO, LET’S SAY, PLAY GODZILLA RIGHT NOW INSTEAD OF 'PRISHA'? YA KNOW, IF I KNOCKED OVER THIS BUILDING WITH ALL THESE PEOPLE INSIDE? Joanne reached over and placed her free hand on a neighboring building’s roof to illustrate. OR I BREATHED FIRE AND TRASHED PEOPLE’S CARS? Joanne contemplated to the dumbfounded criminals in her hand as a frown formed on her face. I WOULD BE SOO, LIKE, UNPOPULAR, THAT’S WHAT? BUT I’M MUCH NICER…AND I DON’T HAVE A SCALY TAIL, EITHER, Joanne joked, smile re-merging. SMOOTHER SKIN, TOO.
Having completed the business end of the filming, Joanne wanted to finish the scene with some spunk. NOW, IT’S QUIZ TIME. MESS THIS ONE QUESTION UP AND YOU’RE GONNA SPEND THE AFTERNOON FILMING MORE SCENES WITH ME IN THIS CRAMPED, STEAMY HOT CAR. GET IT RIGHT AND THE COMFORT OF A COZY JAIL CELL AWAITS YOU. UNDERSTAND? Joanne instructed as she playfully frowned. “Yes, Prisha!” the thieves replied in chorus.
The sounds of helicopters buzzing overhead and the occasional police car siren yelping were the only noises for miles. Thousands of people still lined sidewalks and stared intently from building windows and rooftops to witness the star-studded crime stopper in action. QUESTION – WHICH FAMOUS BRAZILIAN JUST GOT DONE FILMING YET ANOTHER MAYBELINE COMMERCIAL? The car’s occupants consulted one another as Joanne took in her surroundings, smiling and waving to onlookers. “Joanne!” The driver confidently answered. Joanne smiled. The driver smiled in satisfaction in return. YOU ARE SOO……WRONG! ADRIANA LIMA IS THE RIGHT ANSWER. UMPH! COME ON, PEOPLE! JOANNE’S A FAN OF REVLON, Joanne mocked.
Joanne looked down at street level, spotting the ‘Prisha’s Travel’ film and production crews at the next intersection, cameras rolling. HEY, WE GOT SOME CO-STARS FOR THE DAY, Joanne laughed down to them as she dangled the car in her fingers.
“When we return, our fashion correspondent, Rachel Eston, is going to take your calls. Before that, let’s ask Rachel about her latest collection…um…just one minute…um. My producers are telling me that we have some breaking news out of Port Town. I’m sorry, Rachel, we’ll get back to you in a little bit. But let’s join CND’s own Allison Anwar for this breaking news…” (Studio monitor lights up with local reporter Allison Anwar as she stands near Highway 656 in Port Town).
“I understand there are two breaking stories here this morning?” the morning news anchor asked. “Yes, Deborah. The city of Port Town has awakened to disturbing events. “Well, this is big, I mean really big news!’ Allison emphasized as she gushed. “Deborah, ya know all that publicity about Brazilizian actress, Joanne’s new role in ‘Prisha’ Travels – The Movie? Turns out, the film producers had more in store for special effects than anyone could have anticipated. Well, around 9:30 AM local time here…..and I’m not making this up. As you can see form the video streaming across the screen, Joanne, a rather tall Joanne, for that matter appeared at one of the on-ramps to Highway 656 while filming her new movie. Drivers were, as you might imagine, very distracted, instantly causing countless fender benders and as you can see, traffic is now snarled for miles. Here, let’s show you something else (video surveys the large sinkholes where Joanne is reaching in plucking out cars). Her sheer enormity just completely caved in the road near where she stood, cars and people cascading in to the hole. In this part of the video, you can see that the nearby overpass, that people abandoned their cars, escaping what police have told me was a weakening bridge that began swaying just from the cracks in the adjacent roadway.”
“Wait a minute, you’re telling me that the bridge is collapsing? And Joanne caused this by just walking nearby? ” Deborah wanted to clarify. “You are right. To give you some perspective, Joanne’s feet are just a little bigger than an average car, so you can imagine just how powerful she is. Let’s put it this way, I’m standing a half-mile from her and I can feel the ground shake and nearby cars wobble whenever her feet shuffle” Allison reported. “My goodness, it looks like she’s standing among a bunch of toys! What’s happening now? How tall is Joanne, do authorities know? Deborah followed on. “They estimate her height at around 120 feet. And right now, police are trying to rescue people trapped in cars, and as you can see Joanne is being rather helpful, right-siding many overturned vehicles and pulling people to safety with her fingers. No reports of serious injuries so far. There’s much more to come on this story, I assure you, Deborah,” Allison said.
“Much, much more indeed! When they said Joanne would be the biggest Hollywood star ever, I guess it really is true! So, now I know it’s going to be real hard to follow up on that colossal story, but can you tell us about the other breaking news from Port Town, Allison?” Deborah asked in awe.
Well, In what ordinarily would be big, big news on its own, and it is for certain big news, at around 8:30 AM local time, six masked gunmen stormed Sixth Federal’s Main & Tractin branch, the single largest such branch in the city and one of largest depositories in the country. The problem is complicated by the fact it is located in the lobby of the Kelly Monaco Building, which police and SWAT vehicles have surrounded, trapping hundreds of office workers inside. Police tell me that no one will be allowed to leave until the situation is resolved”
“Do authorities know what these robbers are after? Is it just cash, jewelry or something else?” Deborah asked, “Police are still trying to contact the gunman, hoping to determine how many hostages they have taken and what exactly their demands are.” Allison replied.
“We’ll definitely stay tuned, Allison,” Deborah remarked with an air of concern as she signed off before CND’s commercial break.
I THINK THAT SHOULD DO IT. I’VE GOTTEN ALL THE CARS OUT OF THE HOLES AND ALL THE PEOPLE ARE OUT OF THE CARS, Joanne relayed to the police at her feet she was assisting in the most bizarre accident scene in history. IS THAT BRIDGE OVER THERE GONNA BE OK? I SAW ALL THOSE SCREAMING PEOPLE RUNNING. WHAT’S GOING ON? “Ma’am, thank you for being so calm and collected and you’ve saved so many lives this morning. You are right, the bridge is damaged, but no one is hurt and no one is in harms way. Rescue and EMS can take it from here,” the police said over a bullhorn to the bright-eyed brunette.
The film production crew stood by on the scene, looking helpless and useless, the director, Dennis scratching his head in dismay. “We’ve been filming the entire thing,” the head of photography boasted to Dennis. Smiling, Dennis decided to continue filming regardless of what happened at this point, by the script, by events out of their control or a combination of both. Joanne was a 120’ foot actress for the next four days, so there would be many scenes and many possibilities for adventure as the comic hero, ‘Prisha’ came to life.
“Lt Smith!” a stern voice buzzed over a police car’s radio. It was the downtown precincts captain calling to one of the officers on the scene assisting accident victims….and flirting with the Hollywood star, his squad car parked just feet from Joanne’s toes. “Lt Smith, we need back up down here. Get that accident scene cleaned up and the traffic moving and find me some uniforms to man this bank hostage situation.” The officer looked frazzled and overwhelmed, a fact not lost on Joanne who could here the loud talk on the radio. The harrowing accident scene and the torn nerves of the officer and his colleagues contrasted greatly with the fresh faced, composed and pretty Joanne who stood high above it all, a gentle breeze teasing her dark hair.
Eager to make amends for all the destruction she caused as ‘Prisha’, Joanne gleefully asked, IS THERE ANYTHING YOU GUYS NEED HELP WITH? DID I OVERHEAR THAT YOU HAVE TO GO TO A BANK HOSTAGE SCENE? Joanne smiled, twisting her long thick hair playfully, awaiting a reply. The overwhelmed police officers at her feet could be seen talking to each other, when Lt. Smith called on the radio. A minute later, he yelled up, “You’re on! One of those helicopters up there is gonna give you an escort downtown. We can really use your help on this one. These are bad people!” the lieutenant authoritatively exclaimed up to the lanky leading lady. I LOVED PLAYING COPS & ROBBERS WHEN I WAS A LITTLE GIRL!, Joanne replied playfully. EU NAO POSSO ESPARAR!
After you've read my comic novel, 'Prisha's Travels' and its in-progress sequel, 'Prisha's Travels - The Movie,' take this quiz to test you knowledge of the facts.
After a morning spent cleaning up traffic, plucking people to safety from disabled cars and lunchtime single-handedly (really!) foilling a massive bank heist while filming "Prisha's Travels - The Movie' , the people of Port Town reward the 120' Hollywood star, Joanne, with a little pampering time on the Port Town River. Thousands of people mill about just at the bank of the river to catch a glimpse of the towering Tinseltown starlet. Just to her left, the Port Town Bridge is pulsing with traffic as scores of cars and trucks pass above the waterway Joanne floats so luxuriously on. Cell phone cameras flash from people on yachts and other boats as they cautiously cruise closer to the resting giant, all the while the orchestra of sounds of a bustling city, its citizens still adjusting to hosting the 120' woman, echo in the background.
Joanne is scheduled for an interview with local television stations from her raft. See time and channel listings and other information at 'Prisha's Travels - The Movie'.
(The 125' in diameter float is available at pools.com).
Joanne arrived at the luxurious Concord Apartments a little after 8:30 AM. This location just off of Highway 656 was scouted for the scene where ‘Prisha’ pays a visit to an ex, one that did not require Joanne’s co-stars be present. A thick fog had filled the air, one expected to dissipate within the next two hours according to the local weather advisory. Joanne sat patiently in the trailer located in the apartment’s parking lot, reading an old Vogue she had been meaning to catch up on. Within fifteen minutes, production crew and others had begun arriving, the quiet morning giving way to the clamoring of props and lights being set up, the hum of conversation abound as Joanne sat in the make-up chair.
The director arrived a little before 9AM, wearing a light jacket and holding a cup of coffee. The trailer door slammed behind him as the upbeat man clapped his hands together, exclaiming, “Joanne, my fabulous star! How are you this morning?” Joanne turned and smiled quietly, still seemingly exhausted from the flight the day before. A couple of seconds later, the trailer door opened, a mundane occurrence made extra special when Joanne’s favorite co-star, Usher popped in to introduce himself to the Brazilian beauty. Joanne was speechless as Usher offered, “Joanne, I am so honored to meet you. It really is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance,” the stylishly hip R&B artist humbly gestured. Joanne placed her hand to her chest to catch her breath as she gasped. “Holy…Omigod!” Joanne panted. “You don’t understand, I love you…I mean your music…and stuff!”
After Joanne gathered her nerves and her composure, the two stars talked about the movie, celebrities and other gossip, when the assistant director interrupted the two, noting that Joanne was needed outside. “I’ll talk with you soon,” Usher assured her as he kissed Joanne on the cheek. Still in her sweats, make-up complete, Joanne stepped out of the trailer into the parking lot where the assistant director stood, accompanied by a woman who did not look like she was from the film studio or even from Hollywood, for that matter. “I want you to meet Dr. Tanya Elgin of Humanara Care, Inc.,” the assistant began. “Hi, it’s such an honor. You can call me Tanya” the doctor greeted with an outstretched hand. Joanne warmly shook hands, smiling. “So, this is where the transition to ‘Prisha’ takes place?” Joanne nervously acknowledged.
“Let’s all go for a little walk,” the assistant comforted. “Now, Joanne, you’re gonna go behind this vacant part of the apartment complex and Tanya is gonna administer the treatment I told you about a while back,” said the assistant director. Joanne looked into his eyes intently, her complete attention given. Tanya eagerly stepped in. “The medication we’re gonna give you is completely safe, I assure you. I have your filming schedule and you’ll be at least 110 feet tall for about four days, which I think should give you guys enough time to wrap all your scenes. You’ll return to normal height on the fifth day. There are no side effects,” the doctor informed a nervous-looking Joanne who asked, “Will there be doctors and medical help on hand if I need it? “I will be nearby at all times,” Tanya confidently answered. The assistant director appeared to be pleased that the hard conversation was over. Joanne, the assistant and the doctor disappeared behind the apartment building. The director, Dennis Haddis, watched from the distance. Wardrobe staff had already staked out a spot near the woods to the rear of one of the apartment units. Parachute-sized clothing awaited Joanne, who surveyed the duds. For the next ten minutes, the doctor and one lab assistant administered the treatment, monitoring equipment taking vital signs to safeguard Joanne’s health.
“Yeah, I think the fog should be lifting soon. I’ve been following the local weather all morning. Just make sure your crew has all the cameras, lights and power sources all set up within the next ten minutes or so,” Dennis ordered. Production busied about, making last minute adjustments and getting in position. Suddenly, the trees behind the apartment complex shook, sending leaves and small branches to the ground as several flocks of birds bolted into the sky. What little sun shone through the fog was suddenly blacked out, replaced by the enormous silhouette of the famous movie star. In complete amazement, Joanne stood high above the apartment and all the people around her. The entire crew stood frozen in awe, staring upward to conjure the sight that no one could ever imagine was possible, when Joanne interrupted with OH! MY CLOTHES. I NEED TO PUT THESE CLOTHES ON, Joanne fretted, standing 120’ tall in nothing but her birthday suit. Ducking low, out of sight, and momentarily embarrassed, Joanne clumsily beckoned the staff at her feet as they helped her put on the white shorts, black bikini top and stylish jean jacket that were now the trademark of ‘Prisha’ the very style Joanne herself inspired.
Dennis grabbed his bullhorn, blasting commands like a general. All right, I want everyone to take their places. The giant Joanne stepped from behind the apartment building and into the parking lot, lighting and cameras positioned to film the scene where ‘Prisha’ finds her ex and his girlfriend together. People continued to stare up at her and marvel. “Stop staring and get to work!” Dennis snapped.
Joanne seemed to be comfortably taking to the role, maneuvering her new body about gracefully and cautiously, and uttering lines precisely as rehearsed and as directed. The first scene of the movie was now on film and they were onto the next scene. “OK, Joanne. The next scene is where your character darts off in anticipation of the police arriving. See that truck over there with the cameras attached? They will lead you to where you have to go as they film. Just follow their lead. The city has already prepared all the roadways, rerouting traffic with police on hand. Highway 656 should have all the props ready to go. Nearly 100 hundred extras are expecting you.” Dennis relayed up to Joanne’s beaming big brown eyes.
“And….Action!,” Dennis called out. The camera truck started slowly through the parking lot as Joanne slowly placed one foot in front of the other, the ground rumbling accordingly, equipment and cars on the set vibrated and bounced with every footfall. Joanne could barely see the truck at her feet, the thick fog not having completely cleared, the white cloud hiding the tall woman from view. Fortunately, the truck’s blinking taillights were able to pierce the thick white veil, reaching Joanne’s big brown eyes, guiding her journey. Secretly, the filmmakers were happy for the fog, an unexpected special effect that lent to the intended build-up as the cameras panned the surrounding landscape, filming nearby buildings, cars and unsuspecting people in the distance as the camera circled back, focusing in on Joanne’s feet, ankles up to her legs, capturing how the silky stems disappeared high up into the fog, the woman’s upper body and face hidden mystically from view.
The caravan made its way down Dunkit Street, a secluded lane with no sign of life at this time of the morning. THUD…THUD…THUD. The caravan continued its way as the sounds of traffic on Highway 656 could be heard humming not far into the distance. The thick fog acted like a curtain between Joanne, unable to get a view of the congested line of cars and trucks making their way down the highway, and the thousands of commuters stretched along the newly indoctrinated movie set. HOW AM I DOING? I CAN’T SEE A THING, Joanne asked nervously down to the escort. “You’re doing great. Just a few more steps and you’ll be at the entrance to Highway 656. When you get there, we’ll introduce you to the extras and get set up,” Dennis blasted over the bullhorn.
THUD…THUD…THUD. Within ten more steps by the gigantic Joanne, the caravan had arrived at the entrance ramp to Highway 656, the sounds of slow moving traffic and horns beeping as commuters carefully negotiated through the fog, which had begun to lift. “OK, Joanne, we’re here. The fog is beginning to lift, so we can begin filming the next scene,” Dennis said. Then, seemingly on cue, the fog folded away like sheets being removed from a bed. Joanne’s view came into full spectrum as she gasped in awe, the full extent of her movie role laid before her. From her feet to outwards of miles and miles around, her eyes beheld lines of traffic, houses, small office buildings and everything that characterized a typical city…in miniature form. Joanne’s awe-induced trance was ended when several people in cars at her feet started screaming in shock and horror. Joanne had found herself at Exit 9A, her feet planted at the edge of Lastry Street, where the highway on-ramp and an overpass converged just a couple of yards from her. Her big toes blocked several cars from passing, their drivers opting to exit their vehicles, not sure what to do.
Joanne’s face reflected pure shock as she froze in a panic, looking down at Dennis in the camera truck for instructions. Dennis and the crew appeared to be frantically conversing among themselves, raised and angry voices wafting up to the pretty actress’s ears that were covered by her thick dark locks. “Don’t worry, darling, there appears to be some confusion. Hang tight while we figure things out,” Dennis requested via bullhorn to Joanne, who was biting her lip nervously. The crew had not yet realized that they had proceeded to the wrong exit; they needed to be a mile away at Exit 9B. But more catastrophically, after Dennis had placed a cell phone call into the Chamber’s Paili Gold, it was learned that all correspondence informing nearby townships, highway crews, police and other government officials of the filming and logistics needs had never been sent; Paili admitted she had forgotten to send out the e-mails that sat hopelessly in draft form in Outlook and the piles of certified letters somehow were never sent to the post office.
The town’s useless and bungled bureaucracy had planted the seeds for disaster, somehow issuing filming permits without the coordinating among the many city services. Joanne could attest, scanning her surroundings as people exited their cars, pointing up curiously, waves of voices noting the same thing, “Look, it’s Joanne. What’s she doing here?” Joanne nervously smiled down to hundreds of people milling about. HI, PEOPLE. IT’S ME, JOANNE. SORRY, THE CREW’S FIGURING EVERYTHING OUT. DIDN’T MEAN TO DISTURB YOU. YA KNOW, WE’RE JUST FILMING A HARMLESS MOVIE, THAT’S ALL, Joanne shyly offered the commuters. Cell phone cameras clicked furiously, car horns bellowed in a collective expression of impatience of those commuters around the corner who had not yet laid eyes on the giant, hoping in vain that their noisemaking would get them to their destinations sooner.
The more cautious, er, panicky people dialed 9-1-1. It was a smart move. As Joanne continued waving to admirers and as traffic ground to a halt for miles in all directions, silently, slowly the street beneath Joanne’s leather sandal-laden feet began to buckle from the enormity of her new role as she aimed to make this awkward situation better. WELL, THIS IS GOING TO BE THE MOST FABULOUS MOVIE EVER, Joanne began to boast, looking to calm people’s nerves and build some PR for the film. I HOPE I CAN MEET MOST OF YOU DURING THE FILMING, SIGN SOME AUTOGRAPHS, Joanne soothed in her characteristically sophisticated and pretty Brazilian accent.
Five feet below Lastry Street, a large fissure formed, quietly creating cracks that snaked in all directions below ground. Suddenly, the ground shook! UMPH! OMIGOD! Joanne yelped as she girlishly placed her hands to her mouth, her legs temporarily buckling. Just yards from her feet, the roadway opened up wide, the fifty-foot by twenty-foot wide and ten foot deep hole swallowing several cars and some fifteen people. Joanne shuffled her feet in place; instinctively standing tiptoe, gaping mouth again covered in shock. OMIGOD! PEOPLE! OMIGOD! "Gosh, this must be what 'Prisha' must have felt like in the story! I need to channel this experience to truly play the role," an awe-inspired Joanne thought to herself, primping her hair.
Dennis and his crew jumped from their truck to aid the helpless people as Joanne stepped over next to the large hole, reaching in to pluck cars from the mouth of asphalt. HERE, CLIMB ON MY HAND, Joanne invited several people, lifting them to safer ground. The ear-piercing wale of sirens of police cars broke through the screams and people fleeing in panic. As Joanne surveyed the damage, her eyes bulged in disbelief as she witnessed from her lofty perch, another large crack slither its way across as-yet undamaged roadway, opening up more of the street until it met up with the Lastry Overpass that hung above Highway 656. Lastry Street swallowed more cars as Joanne could only watch as a wave of commuters exited their cars on the overpass as it weakened, then swayed, the desperate people hoping to meet up with safer ground before it gave way.
OH! AQUELES POVOS POBRES!, Joanne exclaimed in her native Portuguese as police helicopters descended upon the scene.