Edited by David Cranmer and Elaine Ash, this site publishes hard hitting, punchy tales.
The Show Must Go On (Originally entitled Porn Again Kristen) - 2010
The Show Must Go On
by Mark Robinson
"How's Kristen doing, doc? Ready to go, again?"
The producer watched the huddle around his leading lady split revealing her
bloated red body.
The doctor removed the stethoscope from his ears and turned
to face him. "She's had a type-one reaction to the peanut butter. Any
further exposure could lead to anaphylaxis."
The producer hissed a breath through his teeth.
That was the whole idea. Allergy-porn was the next big thing and this feature
would be his latest money-spinner. "Can't you just dose her up with another
batch of antihistamines or something?" He was no expert but it worked for
his leading man who had been allergic to bee stings on the last shoot; his body
covered in red welts, throat constricting but the guy kept on pumping like a
pro until the director yelled cut.
The doctor kept shaking his head, "She's way passed
that now. We're looking at a possibility of an adrenalin injection."
But, they only had one more scene to go. His leading man
was waiting in the wings. Heading off toward the huddle where his assistant was
standing, clip-board in hand, "Is she still conscious?"
Tom gave him the thumbs up.
Satisfied,
the producer called for the set to be cleared. The safe in his office held
Kristen's signed contract, together with a list of her allergies. She was
perfect for this project, a woman borne of almost every twenty-first century
ailment plaguing society from common hay fever and dust mites to the
not-so-common eczema and peanut allergies. From their pre-shoot meeting, he
even suspected her of being lactose intolerant.
They were about to find out for sure.
Desperate for fame, Kristen had begged Dane for a part in
his next film, "I'll do anything, please."
She was attractive, blonde but nothing he hadn't seen before. He was casting for a couple of run-of-the-mill films that required women who could lure the punters, those who had a bit of a following from reality
Right up close, Kristen was a state. "How many fingers
am I holding up?"
Her puffy, half-closed eyelids struggled to make him out.
Tom, his assistant, bent to hear her whispers.
"Three," he answered for her.
"Okay, nod if you're good to go?"
Only a fraction of movement, but movement it was all the
same.
"You see that, doc?" He was behind the camera,
shaking his head in the shadows. "The money-shot, that's all we got left
to do."
Leaving Kristen on the bed, swaggering over to his leading
man ready for action, those welts red but not as angry as they were a few days
ago. "You all set, Champ?"
A concentrated nod as he handed a runner another empty milk
carton.
"Please, can't you finish this tomorrow?" The
doctor said.
Hands in the air. "We're all out of money. We need
this wrapped and ready to go."
Holding up a syringe, the doctor asked if he could at least
administer it as a precaution.
"You got one minute, doc. Then we're rolling."
Allowing the doctor through, he took his seat next the director behind the
monitors.
After
a minute the doctor was still bending over his star. Exasperated, the producer
leapt out of his seat to move the man himself. "Time is money, doc."
He stopped dead at the needle levelled at his neck.
"You allergic to anything, Dane?"
The producer stood rigid; his assistant on set but unsure
of what to do.
"If I remember right, you don't like penicillin."
A grin working its way onto the doctor's face.
Dane could feel the tip graze his Adams apple as a flood of hazy Coercion
memories of his time in hospital as a kid before they found out he was allergic. With a turn of his lip he made his call, "Security? I need this man off my set."
Two mountainous men muscled their way out onto the set and stalled.
This one here, the soon-to-be-unemployed-doc with a needle in my face—get him outa here!"
nearest guard before leaning
in nice and close to the producer. "I go,
hey all go. Who do you think
fills their 'scrips?"
Dane realised with a sinking
feeling that the doc had them all in his
back pocket. In this town MDs
trumped EPs. "You wouldn't dare."
"Wouldn't I?"
Needle-point lost in a shallow dimple of skin. "Either
Kristen goes to the hospital
or you both go." Watching the leading
lady's chest rise and
shudder.
Bringing his face as close to
the doctor's without piercing his own skin,
the producer yelled,
"Action!"
Copyright © 2010 by Mark Robinson
Comments (3)
Art Miller on April 12, 2010 4:48 AM
It always comes down to
money.
Charles
Gramlic
allergy porn was worth a
second read just for the concept. Very
Patti Abbott
As someone with a husband who's allergic to penicillin, I have to say, "What a concept."
