"You WILL sign. I will MAKE you sign," threatened the director when refused his order. His voice was suddenly low and gravelly, and his face was set in a snarl. He grabbed her, pulling her through the crowd, across the green and into the largest trailer (which she noticed had a large, star-shaped sign on the door with the name "Pierre Baudelaire" painted on it in neat, gold letters). For a small, scraggly Frenchman, his grip was strong, digging into her arm. She struggled against him, but the effort got her nowhere.
Pushing her through the door, he called back to the actors and crew mulling around the set, "Lunch break everyone! Be back in an hour." He gazed down at the young co-ed, slumped on the floor of his trailer, the lacy underclothes baring most of her perfect body, her ample chest heaving, her eyes hot with anger and cold with dread. He was obviously excited by the sight as his lips formed a slow, somewhat evil, grin. He looked back over his shoulder, adding, "Make it two hours!" before slamming the door and trapping the frightened girl with him in the small, dark trailer interior. |