“Well, yeah, fine. I guess I’d have to see the script to get into the role, but in theory that sounds fine.”
“We’ve seen a reel of some of the comedy you’ve done. But also the Shakespeare stuff. You can do that thing where you’re happy and jolly and likeable one minute and then really lethal and menacing the next. Do you know what I mean?”
“Um, yeah. I guess I can do both.”
“And you’ve got the look.” The lanky man turns to his colleagues. “He’s got the look, hasn’t he?”
The woman nods. The third man looks up from the piece of paper on the table and considers, then also nods.
Lorenzo wonders what “the look” means in this context.
The three panelists mutter under their breath, behind their hands. The lanky man says: “Okay, fantastic. We’d love to see you in a few situations. I think we’ve got a measure of you as an individual performer from what we’ve seen of your reel, but we’d like to test you out with another performer.”
“Okay,” says Lorenzo. “That sounds good.”
“Fantastic,” says the man. He gets up. Lorenzo becomes aware of how tall the man is. Some thin people look taller than they are because of their proportions. This man isn’t one of those: he’s both thin and genuinely tall. He walks to the far end of the room to an open door. “Kim,” he calls. “Kim?”
There’s a scuffle within, and a person who is presumably called Kim comes to the entrance then into the room.
“This is Kim,” says the man.
“Hi, Kim,” says Lorenzo. “I’m Lorenzo.”
“Hi, Lorenzo,” says Kim. She holds out her hand and Lorenzo shakes it in the way that’s just one person brushing their fingers against another person’s palm.
Kim is a standard actress, as defined by any description of an actress provided by a big studio casting call. She’s 5'3" with long, fair hair. She is pretty, maybe beautiful, but not scene-stealingly so. She would upstage nobody. She could be as old as thirty or as young as eighteen.
“Great,” says the man as he comes out from around his desk once again with some papers in his hand. “So Lorenzo, we’d like you to run through this scene with Kim. Is that okay? She’s been through it already with a couple of the guys we’ve auditioned already for the part. I mean, I don’t mind telling you that we’re auditioning other people.” He laughs. Lorenzo laughs too. The man hands the papers to Lorenzo and Kim. “I’ll give you a couple of minutes to familiarize yourself with the material. Then we’ll give it a go. Is that okay?”
“Fine,” says Lorenzo. He looks down at the script.
Omatio: Spread your legs, you fucking whore!
Whore 1: Please, sir, please. Not again.
Omatio: You think this is a game? You think this is a fucking game? You think I brought you all the way over here so you could keep me company? So you could tell me stories about your fucking home country?
Whore 1: Please, sir. I didn’t know. I didn’t know.
Omatio: Because let me tell you, whore. I don’t want to hear them. I don’t give a shit about that fucking shithole. Do you hear me? Now we’ve got paying customers out there right now, and every minute you’re sitting in here with your legs closed is a golden floren I’ve lost.
[Kvist, a patron, enters wearing fine clothes]
Omatio: Good sir! But a moment! Has one of my men poured you a glass of our finest wine? We have every good vintage. We shall bring you your selection in just a moment.
Kvist: I heard a commotion.
Omatio: It was nothing. It was nothing, sir.
Kvist: Is that girl crying?
Omatio: Tears of laughter, only! She was just now entertaining me with tales of her people. You know the Sand Dwellers of Amon K’ Tur? She is one of those. Did you know that they cover their bodies in a mixture of sand and piss to protect themselves from the sun? And one time a traveler came through and was so aroused by the aroma he bottled it and sold it for luxury perfume at the market in Temorry for fifty golden florens a case!
[Kvist laughs]
[Omatio laughs]
[Whore 1 continues to weep]
The scene continues in this vein for several pages. Lorenzo reads it over a couple of times then performs it with Kim as Whore 1 and the lanky man as Kvist. At the end of the piece he’s required to slap Kim across the face. Lorenzo gained extensive fight training at drama school so is able to do this without causing any physical harm. After the audition, he shakes everyone’s hand and leaves the building feeling ill. He did a good job. He hates himself for having done a good job.
A Full English
Following the unpleasant incident with the Yorkshire terrier, Roster and Agatha loop back on themselves and head towards the car. The senior police officer Agatha has arranged to meet is Michael Warbeck. She’s heard he’s one of the brightest stars in the service. His career in the force commenced with a graduate scheme for talented young people and he’s been promoted quickly and frequently. It is rumored that Michael Warbeck has political ambitions, and that he will shortly leave the police force and announce his candidacy for Mayor of London. It is all very secret, however. Because of his position, he is entirely debarred from any political activity, and must make any preparations covertly until he has quit his job.
They meet at a cafe near Agatha’s house. Roster parks the car outside and waits. The cafe has white linen tablecloths and silver coffee pots. There are several types of smoked salmon and caviar on the menu, as well as pastries and cooked breakfasts. Michael Warbeck arrives late and orders a cappuccino and a Full English.
“Do you mind?” he asks as he orders.
“Not at all,” Agatha replies.
There are a few minutes of small talk then Agatha guides the conversation to a topic that ensures he’s aware
