The Disclaimer 2: The Producer

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Be careful what you wish for and always read...


The Disclaimer 2: The Producer
 
by Bashful

 
Authors' note: This is my 1st sequel. I got so many nice comment aout the first story, I decided to try it again. I'm not sure if this is a unique enough subject or deep enough, to justify its own universe. If any readers have an opinion on that, please write a review or send me an e-mail. Thanks to all the readers who have written any review for my stories or those of other author's. An honest review that points out problems in a story is just as welcome a one that praises.
 
 
James Lawson was depressed. He was a Hollywood movie producer. He used to be successful and sought after, not anymore. (He suspected the remake of "Ishtar" he put out two years ago was one reason.) He had just seen the dailies for his current film and they sucked. He hadn't had a successful project in two years. He was burned out, middle aged and alone. It was harder and harder to find willing women to come to his bed, without paying for them. Making movies wasn't fun anymore. He wanted a change in his life, but didn't know what.

James was walking down the street when he saw a flash of light and an old-fashioned brass lamp appeared. It looked just like Aladdin's magic lamp. The flash of light made James think he had walked into someone's "on location" set. He looked around for cameras and a crew but saw none.

Lots' of independent movie makers' were running around trying to duplicate the success of Tarrantino's "Pulp Fiction." (James had been offered that movie, but he passed on it. He had known Tarrantino when he was a video store clerk and figured it would be a bust. Who knew?)

Now-a-days, it was hard to walk anywhere and not see someone filming in the street. Many of them didn't have permits and were doing what some people called, `drive by filming'. Pick a corner, take a couple of shots and head for a new location. James stumbled onto a film crew in the street about twice a month.

James couldn't find anyone who looked like they were shooting a movie. He felt the lamp and discovered it was real brass, not a cheap prop. It also looked very old. James liked things like the lamp so he decided to take it home and clean it up.

James ran water over the lamp to remove the dirt and then began drying it off with a towel. A plume of smoke came out of the wick hole and suddenly a man was standing in James's living room.

The newcomer was dressed in a tuxedo. He had a plaid ribbon pinned to his lapel. James didn't know what a plaid ribbon represented support for, maybe everything? The man was about 40 with thinning hair and a good tan. He looked slightly upset.

"Thank you for freeing me from the lamp, oh great master!" The man said, "How may I reward your kindness?"

James began looking around his living room, lifting books and chair cushions.

The man in the tux sighed, "Don't tell me you’re looking for a camera because you think this is some kind of joke or some stupid TV show."

James shook his head, "I`m looking for my pistol. Who the hell are you and what do you want?"

"Don't pull a gun," the man said hastily, "I'm not a criminal, or a lawyer."

"Isn't that redundant?" said James.

"I'm a wizard," he continued, "My name is Fred. I'm required to grant you one wish for freeing me from the lamp. Now, if you don't mind, I was about to leave on a date. The limo will be to my place any minute and I need to get going. Can we get the wish out of the way so I can leave?"

"Didn't you just tell me that you live in the lamp?" James asked him, "Who do you date when you live in a lamp?"

"I don't really live in the lamp," Fred replied, "I just have to say that as part of the spell. I lost a bet to another wizard. For the next few months, anytime someone rubs the lamp, I get jerked away from whatever I was doing and have to go grant a wish. Actually, I write screenplays for a living. I happen to be dating a woman whose name you would recognize if I was crass enough to brag about my dates. She's a successful actress. But really, I do have a time problem here, can we hurry up?" Fred was tapping his foot on the floor.

"What bet did you lose?" James asked.

"The Super Bowl." Fred told him.

James snorted, "You took Atlanta? You deserved to lose."

Fred was losing his temper, he wasn't allowed to attack the wish maker, but he had ways of getting even.

James looked at Fred closely.

"Wait a minute. I know you!" James exclaimed, "You pitched a script to me several years ago. Wasn't it a remake of `Goodbye Charlie'? I remember passing on it. Do you remember that?"

Fred showed his teeth. He wasn't grinning. He remembered as soon as he popped into this guy's living room.

"I remember you read the outline and threw it down on the desk. You told me you might produce the film but you had to check on something first. Then you walked out on your balcony and looked up in the air. You walked back into the room and said; "Sorry Fred, pigs still can't fly. When they can, come see me again."

James laughed at his bad joke. "Well, I see so much bad writing come across my desk, I have to come up with new ways to reject it, you know?"

Fred nodded, "I guess you were fresh out of clever witticisms when that hack pitched you the remake of `Ishtar', huh? Didn't that movie cost less than the original but managed to lose more money?"

James stopped laughing. "What was it you said about getting one wish? I thought genies granted three wishes?"

"I'm not a genie," Fred said, "I`m a wizard. You get one wish; anything you want except it can't cause death to any human being."

"Why write for a living if you're a wizard?" James asked him, "why not use your power to make yourself rich?"

Fred shook his head, "It doesn't work that way. I can't use spells to affect myself. If I could, I'd have more hair." He said, pointing to his balding pate.

"So I can't wish you to turn into something else, like a writer with talent, huh?" James said with a snicker.

Fred didn't answer. He knew he would have the last laugh.

James looked thoughtful, "One wish," he thought, "anything he wanted. This definitely has possibilities."

"Okay," James finally said, "here is my wish . . . "

Fred held up his hand like a traffic cop. "Hold on, wait, I have to read the disclaimer."

"A disclaimer, for a wish?" James said.

"California courts," Fred explained, "what can you do? Now listen carefully, ahem . . ."

" In consideration of your act of kindness in freeing Fred the Wizard from the lamp, you have been granted one wish. This wish may take any form except that which will or may cause death to another human being. You as the wisher are responsible for the wording of the wish. Any ambiguity in the phrasing of said wish may result in a less than satisfactory outcome of your wish. An attention to detail is cautioned as wishes may not be canceled, revoked, changed or modified in any way once the wish has been granted. Void where prohibited. "

"Any questions?"

"So," James asked, "If I don't word the wish for exactly what I want, it's my fault, is that it?"

"I can't add anything to the disclaimer. I will reread it if you want, but no interpretations. You may wish to consult an attorney."

James figured it really was some joke by one of his friends. They set this up using special effects. He just didn't want to make a fool of himself by wishing for something they could blackmail him with like wishing for a 14-year-old girl or a bigger penis.

"Okay," James said, "I'm tired of being a producer. I want to be younger and a movie star. I don't have to be a big star but one that is actively making movies. I want to be single but I want a cute, blonde girl friend with a good body to keep me satisfied. Being a producer just doesn't get you as much sex as it used to, you know? Used to be, you promise a girl a part, she puts out, maybe she gets a part, maybe not, who cared? Now, they sue your butt off for that type thing. As a movie star, it would have to be easier getting girls, you know? Oh yeah! None of them girly boys."

Fred couldn't believe his luck. This insufferable prick had left him an opening he could drive a truck through. He almost started laughing out loud. He didn't though because James could stop the wish before Fred granted it. Once granted, it was forever. (See disclaimer.)

Fred didn't have to wave his arms, he just had to repeat certain words to himself and direct the spell toward James.

Everything went black for James. When he could see again, he was lying in bed. The morning sun was coming in through the French doors on the balcony. He was in a large bed covered with a flowered bedspread. He moved his head to the right and saw a woman laying there, her back to James. James could smell her perfume. He reached out to touch the shiny blonde hair lying on the pillow by his new girlfriend's head. It was soft and fine.

The girl must have felt the touch or James shift in bed because she rolled over and smiled at him. She was beautiful. He recognized her, but couldn't place her right off.

The young woman smiled and said, "Good morning sleepy head, I thought you were going to sleep the day away."

James smiled back, and reached out to the woman, beneath the covers, until he found her breast. He caressed it and felt the nipple rise up. The woman sighed and she too reached out to James and caressed his . . . breast!

James jumped as though shocked. SHE suddenly remembered who the girl was. She was an actress named Anne Heche, the Significant Other of . . .

Anne looked concerned, "Is something wrong, Ellen?"She asked.

Fred took his date home and they spent the night together. The next day, he dusted off the script for the remake of `Goodbye Charlie'. It was being released to video soon. Maybe the timing was right.
 


Copyright 1999, 2000 by Bashful

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Truly, You Must Be Careful What You Wish For

If that poor guy had specified he wanted to be a guy, he might have stayed a guy, but that sneaky wizard is too darn clever.

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine