"Cut, cut, cut!" Colin Mochrie's voice cut through the tension that was building between Jon and Karyn.
"You again?" Jon twirled on the ball of one foot to face him. "What do you think you're doing here?"
"Well, I thought I was making a movie, but it turns out I'm making a pile of crap!"
Jon quickly glanced at Karyn to see if he could get some support from her, but she had that same look everyone else had had the first time. That attentive, compliant look that a student gets when in class with their favorite teacher.
"But maybe I steered you wrong there with the skirt thing," the director rasped. "Forget about that. This time, I want to see you do it like you're really, really scared. Like you're in a horror movie."
The world blipped around Jon once again, and he found himself back seated on the wall, back in his regular jeans, with the stone's wooden box seated on his lap, legs crossed comfortably at the knee.
Why were his legs crossed like that? Jon never sat this way. But he didn't have a chance to think about his legs, or the rest of his posture for that matter as the director, once again, shouted "And action!"
