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There’s just the one problem.

If she is ‘the one’, how does he tell her that he can understand everything his dog says? In the past that conversation with prospective girlfriends has immediately and irrevocably destroyed the budding relationship, so this time he’s decided that honesty is not the best policy, at least not yet. He’s going to hide the crazy, at least until the appetizer, then break it to her slow. That’s why he’s been telling Spike he’s to be seen but not heard. Corey won’t respond to any questions from the animal during this, their third date.

Spike barks.

‘Taking my shirt off will not make her like me more.’

Another bark.

‘Well, if I did it’d be in a natural, organic way and not just out of the blue. Anyhow, I have a plan so shhh!’ Corey takes a deep breath, opens the door, steps out of the BMW, then turns back to the dog with a firm whisper: ‘Seen but not heard.’

~ * ~

Lola watches Corey lope across the street towards her, that crooked grin on his face and that sparkle in his eye. It’s amazing. He’s always happy, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. They embrace and suddenly everything she’s been rehearsing this afternoon is that much harder to say.

She slides into the passenger seat, excited to be sitting beside this funny, strapping Australian man she met four weeks ago. She notices the dog in the back seat. ‘Hello there.’

Spike barks.

‘That’s Spike. He’s just along for the ride. To be seen but not heard: If his grotesque appearance is too disturbing, I find that it helps to squint when you look at him. If you do it just right he can almost appear homely.’

She laughs and pats Spike’s head. ‘Oh no, you’re beautiful.’

‘On the inside.’ He nods at Lola’s waist. ‘Belt up.’

She fastens her seatbelt as he twists the V8 to life and hits the gas. The BMW pulls away from the kerb.

Lola glances at the Australian. She feels something in her chest whenever she’s with him, felt it the first moment they were introduced at the B&A office. She’s not even sure what the feeling is; it’s like shortness of breath combined with indigestion, but in a nice way. It makes what she has to do tonight so difficult. She should have done it on the phone when he rang to confirm the date, but she chickened out. Chickened out! The woman regarded as one of the best closers in town, nicknamed, she thought a tad unfairly, Bitchkrieg by the studios. Truth is, she wanted to have one more night out with the chopper pilot because he’s so much fun. She’ll do it later — there’s no need to spoil the whole evening.

The sun dips beneath the horizon as they hit the freeway and Lola stares out the windscreen at the twinkling lights of her adopted city. Ever since she was a little girl, when Doc Hollywood, a mildly successful early nineties Michael J. Fox movie, came to shoot in her hometown, she’d caught the movie bug and wanted to live in LA. The fact that she now represents the Back to the Future star only underscores how stellar her trajectory from that tiny southern backwater to the top tier of the entertainment industry has been.

~ * ~

Corey takes in the glorious sunset before them. ‘So, I’ve been working on a pitch — a movie pitch.’

Lola turns to him. ‘Really? Excellent.’

‘Well, you know, being here these last few weeks got my creative juices flowing. Well, maybe they’re not creative, but something’s definitely flowing.’

‘What’s the idea? Pitch it.’

‘It’s just a thought at the moment.’

‘Well, turn it into an idea.’

‘You really want to do this on a night off?’

‘There are no nights off. Let’s hear it.’

‘Okay, but you have to be brutally honest. If it’s terrible, it’s terrible, okay?’

‘If it’s terrible, it’s terrible.’

‘Okay.’ He takes a breath, a little nervous. ‘I’m starting now: Hello, Ms Studio Executive Lady, how are you today?’ He speaks in a stiff, formal voice.

‘Very well. Thanks for coming in.’

‘No, thank you, my lady — I don’t know why I’m speaking in an olde English accent but I’ll push on, shall I?’

She does her best cockney British accent: ‘I prefer the Aussie accent myself, guv’nor, but, yes, let’s push on.’

That puts him at ease. ‘Okay, continuing.’ He takes a breath. ‘Now, let me ask you a very important question: which do you prefer, vampires or zombies?’

‘Vampires.’

‘Ba-baum. Family Feud sound for wrong answer. The correct choice is both.’

‘Both?’

‘Exactly! You mash them together and get Zompire, the first movie to feature a vampire zombie as the main character. He’s undead, twice. People have always loved vampires and now they love zombies so it only makes sense to combine them in an irresistible collision of blood-sucking flesh eating. That’s all I’ve got so far.’

Lola nods. ‘Not bad. “He’s undead — twice” is a good tag line.’

‘Great.’ He nods happily, then: ‘What’s a tag line?’

‘You know, the slogan on a movie poster.’

‘Oh. Of course. Right. So the idea’s not a complete shocker?’

‘It’s good, but if you want to take it to a studio you’ll need to think up an exciting plot that you can explain in twenty-five words or less, create vivid characters who grow and change over the course of that story, and create a compelling mythology that explains how and why Zompires exist. Also, consider what the subtext of the story is.’

‘I’ve never really understood what subtext is.’

‘It’s the underlying meaning of the film. Also, is there a love story? Where is it set? And when? Who’s the bad guy? You always need an interesting bad guy with a believable motivation. Is it a comedy or a drama? The title Zompire almost makes it sound like a comedy, but if, for example, it’s called VZ, shorthand for the vampire-zombie hybrid, suddenly it seems more serious. On a poster I can see the V in blood red and the Z in raggedy grey. It’s intriguing, and graphically they’re strong letters.’

Corey studies her. ‘Now I know why you’ve got such a big house. You’re good at this.’

‘Well, yeah, it’s my business and I’ve had a lot of practice and I love movies. So, the takeaway is this: if you want people to take it seriously you need to flesh it out, no pun. Even little things, like is there a hero car of some kind?’

‘Hero car?’

‘You know, like the Tumbler from Batman Begins, or the Millennium Falcon from Star Wars, or the Minis in The Italian Job. It doesn’t have to be a car, just some sort of groovy transportation.’

It makes perfect sense to him. ‘Of course.’

‘And think about who could be in it. Makes it easier when you’re pitching a studio if they have an actor in mind for the lead role.’

He raises his hand. ‘Oh! I know who’d be great. That guy, the one in the tights —’ He can’t quite place the name. ‘You know, that movie about the bloke who turns into a tornado —’

‘The Blue Cyclone.’’

‘The Blue Cyclone! Yeah! Him. That guy. What’s his name? Steve…’

‘Scott. Scott Ford.’

‘That’s it. Scott! I guess everyone wants him in their movie.’