Trixie looked even more troubled. “Is that okay? What about the other auditions we have scheduled?”

“Trixie,” I said sternly, “we don’t have time for questions like that. I’ve been in this business for ages. If I say we can do something, we can do it. Where’s that list of yours? Go get it. Write down, ‘I will not waste time contradicting Jane.’ Great. Terrific. Now tell Mike to come in.”

The Run-Through (Trixie)

How was I going to run through this scene?

I trudged to the waiting room and got Mike, who looked tall in a leather trench coat and high boots.

“Mike, hello,” said Jane, shaking her hand. “How’ve you been? Working hard or hardly working?”

“Working hard, Jane, working hard.”

“What do you think of our script?”

“It’s nice,” Mike said. “I like it.”

Nice, I thought, about as nice as being caught in a shark tank. I bustled around while they chatted and ignored me.

“Are you ready to run through the scene with Trixie, Mike?”

“Sure,” she said, and took off her coat. I’d expected her to be wearing leather, but she had on a white T-shirt and black jeans. Metal chains dangled from her pockets.

“Trixie,” Jane said. Something in her voice reduced my resistance. So I’ll look like a fool, I thought. At least the pay’s good.

I sat down opposite Mike.

“Okay,” said Jane. “Let’s review the plot up to this point. Mike’s character, Big Red, works as a jail warden in a female prison. We’ve seen her on the job, restraining and disciplining various prisoners, helping the doctor administer exams, humiliating her favorites by making them do their exercises naked and pee in public. In the scene right before this, we watched her break up a gang bang. The problem is, she got all turned on by the woman she was saving and couldn’t do anything about it. So now she’s getting a drink at her local bar, which moves into a fantasy sequence about the prisoner she rescued. Okay, let’s start reading. Trixie, you’re the prisoner, obviously, and Mike’s the warden. I’ll read the bartender’s lines.”

I crossed my legs and opened my script. My lines were highlighted in yellow.

“Hey, Big Red, what can I get you tonight?” read Jane.

“Double bourbon on the rocks.”

“Coming right up.”

“Okay,” Jane said, “so now we do some business to indicate fantasy mode, and when the fog clears, Big Red sees the luscious piece who only hours ago was being viciously humped by five bad girls. She walks over to her.”

“Hey,” Mike said, looking straight at me, “I thought I told you to stay in your cell.”

“I didn’t feel like it,” I said, using my finger to hold my place in the script. “I wanted some air.”