Friday, August 17, 2007

"Lady Show Business...


...is a fickle bitch, Orville." It is with those words that I had to break the news to our budding Olivier that his cinematic career had ended just as soon as it started. That's right folks. It pains me to tell you that no sooner had I broken the story to you good people and Variety magazine that I get the message all master thespians dread: "We've written you out of the script." I'd like to say that they opted for someone younger, pinker and fatter, but the reality was, they had to push back their shooting date several months, and they are afraid Orville will be too big by then, so they "killed" his character before he got a chance to bring "Sascha" to life.

As the picture will attest to, Orville was none too thrilled when I told him what had happened. He threw a Lohanesque fit, obliterating a cardboard box, and upending his food bowls like a rioting prison inmate. Seems he was already spending the loot in his head, undoubtedly on a bottomless pit of vegetarian slops. Maybe I shouldn't have asked for a 3 picture deal? Maybe I shouldn't have asked for points on the back end? Maybe I shouldn't have demanded to score the movie? Could it be that my demands are what led to the kibosh? I can only hope this rejection doesn't send Orville into a pit of despair, culminating in an eating binge, 30 days in rehab, and an US Weekly cover.

I guess the big O will have to make due with never-ending days of eating, drinking, and general merriment. At least until his next Brown Derby moment of discovery...

Wednesday, August 8, 2007

"They're Gonna Put Me in the Movies...


They'll make a PIG star out of me."

All right folks. This story has been brewing for the last few weeks, but I wanted to wait for its resolution to see how it'd play out. I've been bursting at the seams, and now I can finally tell you.

So, by now, Bubba and I have been out here for eight and a half months now, seeking our fame and fortune in our respective creative fields of aspiration. Bubba's been getting her chops back after some time of acting inactivity, while I've been immersed in the lab, writing and recording some 100% Scott originals to unleash on the world. So who seems poised to have get the first creative break in the house? Orville, that's who. That's right, the Big-O. Ol' snouty just took his first hoof step towards a troth on the walk of fame.

A couple of weeks ago, I see in my inbox, a message forwarded to me from our pig breeder down in Texas. It said, "here's something that might interest you." I check it out, and it's from an independent filmmaker out here in Hollywood, who wrote to our breeder in search of a pot-bellied pig to put up on the silver screen. Specifically, they're looking to cast the role of "Sascha," pet pig to some Russian mobster, complete with a decorative rhinestone collar. Seems they'd gone the conventional routes of trying to procure animal talent locally, only to find the cost to be exorbinant, and did she know of any, I don't know, non-union for lack of a better term, pigs for hire. I said to Bubba, "Orville's a pig! Let's contact them."

I wrote back saying we may be able to help them out, so give us a call. A couple of days later, Anna, the filmmaker did, and we set up a time for them to come out to meet Orville for his "screen test" if you will. The day before his audition, we spruced him up real purty like. I know this may be hard to believe, but a pig can get a little dirty sometimes. Bubba bribed him with cherry tomatoes and made him showroom fresh. Of course, when we took him for his evening constituional the night they were coming, he promptly soiled his snout, but what are you gonna do?

So, Anna and Miklos arrive, and are INSTANTLY smitten. Just couldn't get over how cute he was. The only immediate negative was that he's a tad bigger than they were hoping. They envisioned him being small enough to be potentially toted like one of Paris Hilton's toy dogs, but that ain't happening. From there, we felt each other out. I had to make it abundantly clear that Orville is not trained to do anything but eat, sleep, and use his box, so we have NO idea what to expect on a set. From our end, we were like, "it can't be too far from here, it can't be too long, and we don't want him under ANY duress." Orville is a scared little mush at the end of the day, and the last thing any of us needs is from them to start barking orders or whatever, and have him unleash his patented blood-curdling squeal. They assuaged our fears by telling us that it's no more than two days, absolutely no more than 4 hours each day, probably much less. AND, they'll be some type of ASPCA rep or something on hand to ensure he's safe.

So apparently, O's got two scenes. One in a limo with two young Russian models, and one in a hotel room with a gangster. His main task is to sit in a lap and be cute, and secondarily, they are going to try and capture at least a few seconds of him running amok. I think that can be acheived with a little food on the ground. There's not a lot he won't do for food. The best part is, he's getting paid for this. That's right, my man is making most dollars (well, a few hundred anyway).

The hilarity of this budding situation has been non-stop in my mind. The bad jokes started streaming out instantly. "Now he's really bringing home the bacon." "I sure hope he doesn't ham it up on camera." And so forth. I started acting like an agent thinking, "Well, maybe Orville can parlay this into a multi-picture deal?" "Should we try to get points on the back end?" "On his rider, we should demand that Orville have full access to the Craft Services buffet, and his own trailer with a supply of m&m's with the brown ones removed." Oh man. My head's been spinning. It's too much.

So now, going forward, any pictures I post will be considered "publicity stills," though I'm touting the one on this entry as his "head shot." So, we'll be going "on location" next month, and who knows? If he plays his cards right, maybe we've got the new replacement for the "Babe" movie franchise?