Cecile broke through the doors. Which was starting to be a bad habit and one that made her lean over to the side of the frame and rub her foot. She looked up, face tight. The camera lights glared at her, three colors; red, blue, green all pointed at her. Across, set up in front of a fake dwarven house-set Harrogate sat on a couch. Next to him…

An elf and orc together, going at it and making the whole fake-house and fake-couch and fake-room shake.

“You said this was a single girl scene.” The elf told the director who rubbed his hairy palms together. He looked over his shoulder. She passed him on the way to Harrogate, knocking down cameras orbs and megaphone sticks.

“It’s not what you think, Cecile.” Harrogate rubbed his arms.

“What are you doing?”

He stood up, straight.

“I’m acting.” He said, chin high up.

“Oh, you’re acting?” She asked. “Who are you, the pizza boy? Gardener?”

“He’s my husband.” The elf slapped him on the back of the head. “And he has a small dick, don’t you honey?”

“Y-yeah.” Harrogate rubbed his scalp.

“Please tell me you’re getting paid?”

“Why yes, I am.” He said. “Why do you care? Aren’t you getting the big bucks?”

“It fell through.” She crossed her arms. “Turns out that Cumbrick guy was a pervert. I beat his head in and snapped a couple of his limbs out of place.”

They all stood up. Orc. Elf. Fairy in the director chair. Camera man. Donut-bringer-assistant. Yes-man assistant. The janitor. The janitor’s dog. Everyone raised their heads like they all heard some invisible sound only their species could hear, the danger sound of a horrifying and coming doom.

“You hurt Mr. Cumbrick?” The orc asked.

“Oh, shit.” The elf said. “You don’t do that?”

“And why not?” Cecile asked. “He kept asking for my feet.”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“Then you should have gave them to him.” Aldous said. His little golf cap fell to the side, his gold chains fluttered. His face flushed. “You’re friends with her, Small Simmons?”

“Small Simmons?” Cecile looked down at Harrogate.

“It’s my porn name.” He said. “But besides that, why’s it matter if I know her?”

“You’re friends with her. You’re friends with a person who beat up Mr. Cumbrick. That’s no good. I don’t want that trouble here.”

“What’ya mean?” Both of them said. There was something…fishy in the air. And it wasn’t the semen and fluids. Well, maybe it was. But it was something else. Maybe it was in the way everyone turned their faces away from them, or how they looked down at the floor when they made eye contact. Either of them, like they were both cursed and it was infectious to the touch, through the air, through a glare.

“You fucked up.” The orc said. “Mr. Cumbrick is in cahoots with the Fairy Five.”

“The fairy five?” Ceciled asked.

“The five mafia groups of Zullywood. How do you think these things get funded? It’s all money laundering.” The elf said.

Aldous rubbed his forehead, wet palms against a wet face.

“Oh gosh.” He said. “You two are screwed.”

“No, no, no. She’s screwed.” Harrogate stepped away from Cecile, almost ran out the set.

“Harrogate, don’t leave me.” SHe said. “Please.”

“Nuh uh.” He said. “I’m not dealing with this again, Cecile.”

He ran out the first door he saw, which lead him through a narrow hallway. The set designer room, the writers room, the snack room and finally the bathroom. The loo, really.

“Harry. Harry, please.”

“Don’t Harry please me.” He threw down his tie, his suit jacket and his glasses. “You ditched me out into a fucking curb the last time we spoke and now that you’re in trouble, you’ve come crawling back.”

“Yes. Yes I have.” She dropped down prone onto the floor and grabbed his leg, crying and hoping. “I was stupid Harry, please. Help me get out of this. The mafia are gonna come for me.”

“Good.” He pulled his leg, her weight was too great. “Get off me would ya?”

“Harry, please. Please. Please. I need help, we need to kill them before they kill us.”

“Before they kill you, and only you.” He said. “Now get off me, this is unbecoming.”

She stood, patted her pants down and pointed at him.

“If you don’t help I’m going to tell everyone your wife got fucked by an orc while you sat in the corner and jerked off.”

His face went red.

“I wasn’t in the corner jerking off and that wasn’t my wife.”

“Nobody knows that.” She said. “I’ll tell your friends from the assassin school, you know the two, don’t you?”

“Don’t you dare.” He slapped her finger away. She brought it back.

“I don’t want to threaten you. I don’t mean to.” She said. “Especially when there’s so much opportunity from this little quagmire.”

“You don’t even know what quagmire means.”

“If we are getting chased by mafiosos, maybe we could turn it around…you know. Maybe we can money launder them!”

“That’s not how it works.” He put his hands against his eyes. “Not. At. All.”

And he rocked in place while she put her hands to her side. Harrogate, who she believed was crying but couldn’t quite tell behind the muffled sound.

“We’ll make it out rich, I promise Harry.” She said.

And he kept quietly crying. Even as a toilet flushed behind them. Behind them, in one of the stalls the little figure peered its head. Two desolate eyes, a five o’ clock shadow.

Turnus.