Fall of Light
Fall of Light
“screamed the director, rising from a tangle of bodies in various states of clothed and unclothed just beyond the trees that ringed the clearing on the far side of the altar. “You! Put your pants on! Oh my gawd. Where are my pants? Oh my gawd. Where’s the damned publicist? Someone lock her up before any of this gets out! What—”
“Say, boss,” said George. “Is this a classic case of dope in the water or what?”
No one spoke. Neil found his clothes and hurried into them, as did anybody else who could locate what they or someone else had been wearing before the big meltdown. “All right,” Neil said at last. “Dope in the water supply.
That could work. Might even be true. Sabotage! Damage control . . . Loaders, I’m confiscating all the film we shot since—Juanita, when did you stop taking notes?” he asked the script supervisor, who was struggling to tie her hair back into a knot at the nape of her neck. It turned out she had a wealth of sleek dark hair, long enough to reach her hips.
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