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Method Acting by Justin Black There's a lot to be said about being the best... and we were, the critics agreed, the best acting school in Chicago. Arguably, we had the best schools in New York and L.A. beat as well... but you're never going to overcome the snobbishness on either coasts to get them to admit that. Not that it mattered. We were the elite. I can show you a list as long as your arm of our alumni who have gone on to national -- even international -- fame. And somehow, I was one of the lucky ones: through a lot of luck and a lot of hard work, I became, at the tender age of 27, one of a select group of instructors at our prestigious school. We worked in groups, close-knit teams who worked largely independently of each other, assembling productions which were presented regularly at the theater attached to the school. Performances at this theater were world-renowned; it was a must for tourists to the Windy City to catch one of our performances. We played to packed houses every night, which, along with the fees we charged to our students, made the school quite profitable an able to support our sizeable staff of instructors. Our group was called "Frenetic Inertia." I don't know where the name came from. It had been around for years, long before any of the current members of the group were involved. The current members included playwrights, directors, actors, technicians, though no matter what our individual areas of expertise, we all pitched in and did whatever was necessary. Cross-training in disciplines was the rule, not the exception. I had just come off of a successful production of a play I had written and directed, called "Barely There." It was, like many of our successful productions, a broad farce, this one notable for the fact that the lead actress spent much of her stage time in her underwear. This was no accident. Our productions were ferociously competitive, and working under the premise that sex sells, I deliberately set out to create a sexy, vibrant play which would have the added benefit of some very provocative promotional material. It was a success: "Barely There" ran for four months -- nearly a record -- and was destined to be one of the highest-grossing productions of the year. The lead actress for "Barely There," -- and absolutely knockout blonde named Jill Thompson -- never let me live down the fact that I had cast her into the play, and that it was me who had her prancing about the stage each night in bra and panties. She playfully vowed revenge pretty much after each performance. At 35, Jill was in fabulous shape, and was teetering on the edge of heading for Broadway to make her name as a top theatrical director. We knew it was pretty much just a matter of one more season or so before we'd lose her talents. After the close of "Barely There," we were faced, as usual, with the challenge of choosing our next production. Although we were constantly bombarded with scripts, sent in by hopefuls around the world, we, more than some of the other groups, liked to keep our productions in-house as much as possible. We loved to "workshop" plays, taking extra time to allow them to evolve and change before bringing them to the stage. This time, however, we broke the pattern just a little bit by allowing Val Curtain to submit her newest play. For those who've never heard of her, Val is one of the hottest playwrights in Chicago, in addition to her numerous contributions to the world of television. She was, at the time, working on cracking that elusive market in feature films, and although she'd had two of her screenplays produced, both films had stalled before securing distribution. She was bold, aggressive, and a true genius at comedy, and so when we got word that she had something for us, we leapt at it. "Uncle Leo" was the working title of the play, a broad farce of a detective mystery. I was out of town presenting an acting seminar in Tampa, Florida when the selection committee voted in favor of it, but just on Val Curtain's reputation alone, I approved of the choice. Normally, with our group, it was standard practice for the playwright of any given production to also direct. This made a lot of sense, especially when it was a workshop production, and the playwright could allow the nuances of the rehearsals to guide any rewrites. Val, however, let it be known that she wasn't interested in directing at all, but would happily attend the rehearsals and do any necessary rewrites that the director might require. The director would be Mandy Pallor. Mandy was a real piece of work. She was relatively new to the group, but came toting her reputation with her. It was stellar. Mandy had come from Broadway to work with our group. She was one of the leading advocates for gay and lesbian drama, and was, at age 35, already becoming a household name, appearing on numerous talk shows as an advocate for gay rights. In person, Mandy was unique. She was almost asexual. She gave out no vibes at all. She never spoke of any relationships. She was never seen with anyone. Mandy was a mystery, but she was such a fun and vivacious person that she was a joy to be around. Everybody liked Mandy. So it was that I was quite happy to hear from her while I was still doing my seminar out in Tampa. "Have you read Val's script yet?" she gushed over the phone. "No," I told her, "I haven't had a chance, but I'm going to as soon as I get back to Chicago." "They told you I was directing?" "Yes, they did, and I'm really excited about having you back in the director's chair. Last time was great fun." "I'm looking forward to it too," she said. "And that's kind of what I'm calling you about. I want you to play one of the leads." This was unusual. It was practically policy with the entire acting school that open auditions were a must. Students were usually favored out of those auditioning, but we've had some absolutely brilliant finds from people coming in off the street. Pre-casting, however, and especially from the group itself, was rare. The only other time it had been allowed, ironically, was when I cast Jill in "Barely There." "Are you sure?" I asked. "I mean, that seems a bit hasty, don't you think? You're bound to find someone better." This wasn't false modesty; I never considered myself a great actor, although I absolutely tried my best every time I was cast in something. "I'm sure," Mandy insisted. "I have my reasons... and I'll explain them to you once you get back and read the script. But I'd like to get your commitment now, if I can." "Without even reading the script?" "Yeah. You'll just have to trust me on this." "I trust you," I said. And I did. My return home was less than idyllic. Beth, my girlfriend of three years, and I were going through what appeared to be an inevitable split. Her job as a rep for a pharmaceutical company kept her out of town for months at a time, and it was tearing us apart. It seemed that the time we got to spend together was entirely wasted on fighting about why we stayed apart so much. This time was no different. In fact, this time was worse, because now I was actually looking forward to the next time she would leave town. As usual, I drowned my problems with work, and got hold of a copy of Val's script as soon as possible. "Uncle Leo" was everything I expected it to be: funny, brilliant, extremely well-written but with a sense of real humanity that most farces tend to ignore. As I read it, however, I couldn't figure out which part Val wanted to cast me as. Most of the male parts were relatively minor, and could be played pretty much by anyone, good or bad, without affecting the overall production. Except for one. I can never do justice to the wonderfully serpentine plot of "Uncle Leo" -- you'd do better to find a copy of it for yourself -- but briefly, it's the story of rich, curmudgeonly, and lecherous Uncle Leo, and his evil, unscrupulous niece, Kimmy. The story revolves around Kimmy's plot to swindle her uncle out of a box of his late wife's jewels. It's the way she does it that makes the plot unique and the perfect vehicle for comedy. Kimmy convinces her boyfriend Sal to disguise himself as a woman -- her "best friend" Sally -- and have Uncle Leo's lecherous desires distract him long enough for Kimmy to pull off her heist. It wasn't until my second reading that it hit me: I knew why Mandy had called me: the party. To backtrack: about a year earlier, shortly after Mandy had joined our little group, she had invited us to a fund-raiser for one of her many gay rights advocate groups. This one was quite legit, and was fashionable among the city's elite; or at least those of the elite who wanted to portray themselves as "concerned." It was a "Gender Bender" party: all of the guests were encouraged to present themselves as the opposite sex. As you can imagine, with any such event, camp was the order of the night, and most of the patrons paraded about in ridiculous costumes. (It actually made me wonder whether the beneficiaries of this fund-raiser took offense at the way these people were presenting themselves.) Being a "serious" actor -- and, to be frank, wanting to impress our new, illustrious member -- I took a different tack: I went for realism. To be honest, it was Beth's idea. When Beth heard about the party, she got this strange look in her eyes, and delightedly leapt upon the idea of transforming me. I asked her why, and she said, "Because ever since I met you, I wondered what you'd look like as a woman. You have the facial structure of a girl..." Not exactly inspiring words, but even I had to admit it was true. My facial proportions had a kind of "off" look to them. As an actor, this often worked in my favor, as make-up could transform me effortlessly into a variety of different looks. I'm not bad-looking, by any stretch of the imagination, but I'm certainly not the macho type. Body-wise, I'm kind of ambiguous as well. Definitely not in shape, I'm certainly on the chubby side, with softer curves than you'd expect on a guy. Never had a problem with self-image, though. I've always been comfortable in my own skin. Beth saw my attributes as "raw material," and when she set her mind to making me an art project for Mandy's party, she went all out. I won't go into too many details, except to say that Mandy's efforts were very, very impressive. At the party, I was, more often than not, mistaken for the number of people who turned up that hadn't dressed for the occasion. Proof of this was the fact that I was hit on by not one but three guys that night. Beth found this hilarious... and admitted that it was a turn-on for her. I didn't think too much of it, except for the discovery that my girlfriend had a few kinks to her that I didn't know about. I was sure that Mandy remembered the impression I made at that party, and that this is why I was being asked to play the part of Sal/Sally. Not "asked," I corrected myself. The part I'd already committed to. It wasn't that this really concerned me, though. I was certain that, if the part was something I couldn't do, Mandy would accept my refusal, but this wasn't something I wanted to do. In our group, it was the roles that seemed difficult or demanding that were the most challenging and, ultimately, satisfying. All throughout my career, I'd played against type with wonderful results. >From my interpretation of the play, the key to playing Sally was going to be complete believability. Both the feasibility of the plot and, by extension, the effectiveness of the humor was based almost entirely around the fact that the audience had to believe that Uncle Leo was head over heels for Sally. "The audience has to believe that Uncle Leo is head over heels for Sally," were Mandy's exact words the first time we met to discuss the part. Sure enough, she brought up my performance at the party, noting that her brother, Stanley, had taken a serious shine to me all during the party, and, she added with a chuckle, was still thinking things over after he found out the truth. "I've lined up some great people to help with your make over," she said. "It'll be fun." "I'll be the judge of that," I said. I knew the hell I went through in preparation for the party, and the idea of doing it through rehearsals and an unknown number of performances was daunting. I'd played a zombie a while back, and getting made-up for that every night was misery, and created a skin rash that lasted for months... and that was just for a week-long Halloween run. When I found out that Jill had come on board as assistant director, I had my suspicions as to whether or not casting me as Sally had just a little to do with her vow to get even for her under-clad performance in my last play. I knew, however, that Mandy wouldn't stake her reputation on something so frivolous as Jill's revenge fantasies, so, while it might be a stroke of luck for Jill, this was going to be a very serious project. Even before the rest of the cast had been auditioned, Mandy started working with me, plotting out my impending transformation. Mandy was well-known for her belief in method acting, and she made it clear at the outset that this was going to be one of her most ambitious projects. "The way I see it," she said at one of our early production meetings, "one of our challenges is to make the audience believe in Sally even though they're in on the fact that she's really Sal. If, during the course of the play, you can suspend their disbelief, it will put them firmly in Uncle Leo's shoes, and give it that extra emotional kick." Fine, I thought. But at that point, I had no idea how extensive a challenge this was going to be. The "transformation team" -- that was actually how they were going to be listed on the programs -- was also brought in prior to casting the rest of the play. I have to admit, I was less than thrilled at first that the mother-daughter team of Missy and Hannah Carpenter were going to be responsible for my gender reassignment, although they were, in fact, perfect choices for the part. Missy was a master seamstress, and could create just about any costume known to mankind strictly from memory. Hannah was a make-up genius, everything from special effects to simply making our starlets look like starlets. I guess that was going to include me now. The reason I was uncomfortable with the idea of having those two working on me had nothing to do with their abilities and everything to do with their personalities. Missy was a jokester, and took great delight in the discomfort and embarrassment of others... in a good- natured way, I have to add, but in such a way as to make such situations ten times more uncomfortable and embarrassing. I was dreading what I knew would be her constant ribbing. With Hannah, the situation was just a little bit different. I was, secretly, nuts about Hannah, and the idea of having her seeing my manhood so thoroughly challenged bothered me. What was she going to think of me after this? I'd find out, that was for sure. The first wardrobe meeting was a hoot -- for just about everyone but me. Val, Mandy, Jill, Missy, and Hannah sequestered me in a room as we went over the script page for page, brainstorming costuming ideas. My ideas -- understandably conservative -- were all but ignored. It was as if I wasn't even there. The others were really enjoying themselves, and the squirming I started to do as their ideas grew more and more fanciful added to their amusement. Worst of all, this brainstorming was giving Val new ideas of how to polish the script even further, and it seems that every improvement involved putting me in more and more embarrassing situations. This was deliberate. "It's the perfect way to get laughs," she explained, simply, and there was no argument to this. I didn't have that much objection to sweetening the script with more laughs; the problem I had was that a large number of their funny ideas was in direct proportion to how much of me got exposed onstage. I have to admit that one of my biggest setbacks as an actor is my own modesty. Being less-than-svelt, I've always been shy about exposing myself, and that was precisely the direction in which our creative team was headed. An example of this brainstorming involved Uncle Leo's first encounter with Sally. As the scene was originally written, Uncle Leo accidentally stumbles upon Sally going through the contents of his desk in his private den. Uncle Leo is such a lecher that instead of being infuriated over this invasion of privacy, he is far more intrigued by the sight of an attractive woman bending over his desk and, appropriately, gives her a playful whack on the butt. Funny. But not funny enough, apparently. The girls thought it would up the laughs immensely if Sally was in a skirt short enough so that Uncle Leo -- and the audience -- got a nice gander at her panties. Forget about my protests; they didn't count. Instead, they took things even further. Since Sally's visit to Uncle Leo's office takes place at night, Mandy pointed out, why not put Sally in a nightie? "Why would Sally bother to get dressed for bed before she goes to the office?" I asked. "For that matter, why would Sal even bother keeping up the charade when he went to bed?" Val had an answer to this. The girls, she pointed out (Sally included) had to sleep in the same room with another female guest. This necessitated Sally having to maintain her charade around the clock. This female guest didn't exist prior to my question, but I could see Val's mind whirring with the comic possibilities. I learned to keep my mouth shut pretty quick. The day before auditions to cast the rest of the play, I spent several hours with Missy and Hannah doing make-up tests and having my measurements taken. It wasn't all that bad, in spite of the fact that I was pretty much stuck in a chair for several hours. Missy and Hannah had fun teasing me about the costumes Missy planned to make for me, and it would have been a great day until Hannah dropped a bomb on me at the very end. "I want you to go to the Brixton Spa, and talk to Tammy. She's going to wax you." "Excuse me?" "Wax you. We don't want to mess with shaving you. This is going to go on for a pretty long time, and with a razor, we'd have to keep on doing it. Trust me, you'll thank me in the end..." Hannah was wrong. The next day, while Mandy was determining who my co-stars were going to be, I was undergoing tortures that the Inquisition might have found useful, as I was rid of my body hair. To my surprise, the order that Hannah had put in also included a Brazilian wax (her idea of a joke?) and having my eyebrows waxed as well. (No joke, and I understood the reasoning there.) I refused to do the Brazilian, obviously, but submitted to everything else. By the time I left, I felt very different, and surprisingly vulnerable. I could only hope that my bangs covered my new eyebrows. I don't think they did. Mandy was sympathetic to my ordeal, and appreciative of my dedication to the role so far. I asked her if she'd found our Uncle Leo yet, and she gave me a quirky smile. "As a matter of fact," she said, "I have, and he's someone I've worked with before in another company." "When can I meet him?" Another quirky smile. "Actually, I have an idea about that..." Two days later, I was sitting in the backstage make-up chair, being worked over by Hannah's skilled hands, about to play a part in another of Mandy's experiments in method acting. In fact, her plan was ingenious. When Mandy had run through her auditions, she used scripts from a different play as material for the actors to read. This was very deliberate. It was also deliberate that none of the actors, even after they had been accepted, received copies of the script. They were told there was a "printing error" and that they were going to have to wait. The reason I was there that day was to have Missy and Hannah go all out in creating Sally... and that it was my female alter-ego that Uncle Leo would be meeting for the first time. Not only that, Mandy had made arrangements that Uncle Leo and I would be alone together for fifteen minutes before the rest of the cast arrived. The only other observer would be Mandy, hidden away in the theater's sound booth, watching the action. "His name is Josh," Mandy told me as I was being made up. "I've got to tell you, he's an eccentric sort of character. Not exactly a ladies man. Kind of nerdy. I don't think he dates much. But he's a great actor and really dedicated to his craft, which is the main reason I chose him." "Okay..." "He's not the best looking guy in the world, but he's one of those actors -- just like you -- who's a chameleon. You can inspire him to become anything you want him to be. I'm so happy he auditioned." "And so what's the plan for today?" I asked. I was already getting jittery, feeling some butterflies. "Well," Mandy said, "we'll let Missy and Hannah have their go at you -- I've arranged it so that they'll have plenty of time to get you put together -- and then I have it arranged so that Josh will arrive first. That way you two can meet, and I can see what kind of chemistry you have." "Isn't that kind of deceptive?" "It's totally deceptive!" Mandy laughed. "But Josh has worked with me before, and he knows all about my little tricks." "What about my voice?" I said. I think I was stalling for time without even really knowing it. "You'll be fine. Just raise your pitch a little bit, without being obvious. Your voice is more feminine than mine is..." I couldn't argue with her there. Mandy was outside every fifteen minutes for a cigarette break, and they had definitely taken their toll. Actually, I didn't have time to argue with anything, as Missy and Hannah were keen to get started, warning me that they had a lot of work ahead of them. As we headed off to the backstage dressing room, Mandy gave me a pat on the shoulder and said, "By the way, I like the eyebrows. You're going to look fantastic!" There was not a doubt in my mind that my nervousness was showing when I entered the dressing room, nor that Missy and Hannah picked up on it like sharks to blood. Both had big grins on their face, looking as though they were holding back fits of laughter. "Are you ready to become a woman?" Missy asked, exchanging a sly glance with her daughter. "I guess so," I said with a sigh of resignation. "Where do we start?" "Strip!" said Hannah. "What?" I said, mortified. "We're going to start with your clothes," Missy explained, "so we need to start from the bottom up." She went over to the large table on which she had laid out a pile of clothing and picked out several garments. "I know you're modest," she said -- she'd costumed me before, and was aware of how shy I could be about my body -- so we'll let you put on your undies in the bathroom." I felt myself blushing as Missy handed me a pair of pink panties with black lace trim and a matching bra. "You remember my roommate Candy?" Hannah asked me as I took the flimsy undergarments from Missy's hand. "You should see her lately. She's been working out and dropped a lot of weight. She was going to give away her entire wardrobe, but I managed to snag it all before she made it to the Goodwill box. So we have lots to work with, and you're about the same size she was before she started working out." Great, I thought. I stood there, waiting. "What are you waiting for? Let's get going." "Where's the rest of what I'm supposed to wear?" I asked. Missy didn't even blink. "Let's start with underwear and just work our way up." For a few moments, I thought this was a joke, but when neither of them did or said anything else, I realized that they were serious. My shoulders slumped as I headed to the bathroom to get my humiliation underway. I struggled with the bra a little bit, but figured it out, then slipped on the panties. Fortunately, they were roomy enough to cover me -- I guess -- and I avoided looking in the mirror as I took a deep breath and stepped back into the dressing room...and came face to face with Jill. The smile on her face was priceless. It was a smile of victory. "Just wanted to wish you luck," she said, which, of course, was complete bullshit: she wanted to see me in a bra and panties. "Have fun," she said, walking away, exchanging more of those secret glances with Missy and Hannah. "That wasn't necessary," I said. "No... but it was fun!" Missy said. That was when she and Hannah let go of the giggles they'd been holding back. "Now let's get to work..." And it really was work. After Missy had fitted me with water-balloon "breasts" (Candy was a busty girl, so I had some big cups to fill), she started handing me different outfits to try on. It turned out that Candy wasn't quite as large as I was, and a lot of the clothes I tried fit a bit too tightly or just didn't hang right on my more non- existent curves, so it took some time to find the four or five different combinations Missy wanted to have on hand for Mandy to choose from. Several pieces were set aside for Missy to alter. Several fit straight "off the rack." The first order of the day was to choose an available outfit for my first meeting with my co-star. And we went fairly conservative: a pleated, knee-length black skirt and a white blouse. Missy had me put on pantyhose, and we struggled with some of Candy's old shoes finding a pair that weren't going to absolutely kill my feet. We eventually settled on a pair of black flats that Missy had "altered" with a utility knife. "Now comes the fun part," Hannah said as she sat me in the makeup chair and covered my new outfit with a large smock. The makeup phase was tedious. All I did was sit in a chair while I was brushed, painted, blended, and god-knows-what else. Hannah experimented quite a bit, and three times just washed my face clean and started over. Missy gave her opinions and advice, but I kept quiet, since Hannah insisted I not watch the procedure in the mirror. Finally, after a good, solid two and a half hours of work, Missy was ready for the last step: a wig of long, red curls. "Red?" I asked. My hair is brown. "This was Mandy's idea. She saw the wig at my house a while back and thought it would work for you." "Whatever..." I said as it was secured to my head, then styled appropriately. I have to admit that, by the time we were done, I was eager to see what kind of magic the girls had created. My first reaction to seeing my reflection was mixed. At first, in spite of all of the paint and finery, I still saw me, and it looked a little ridiculous. In fact, it took several long moments of intense scrutiny to begin seeing things differently. While it was true that I'd never be mistaken for a supermodel, it was also true that my face really did lend itself to feminization, and I found that as I experimented with different facial expressions, just a few simply adjustments increased the effect immensely. Missy and Hannah just stood by and watched as I made seductive glances at the glass. They were pleased with what they saw, and, in time, so was I. "This is sensational," I said, casting myself a "fuck me" glance. "Hannah, you are remarkably talented. I could never pull off something like this." "It's not as hard as it seems," Hannah said modestly. "The hardest part was picking out shades that match your skin tone. Things like that." "You think I'd pass out on the street like this?" I asked. "No doubt," Missy said. "I've seen lots of women who don't look as good as you do. But you're going to have to work on your voice a little bit." I figured that if I was in it this deep, I might as well go all the way. Besides, Josh wasn't due to arrive for at least an hour and a half. So I worked with Hannah and Missy at altering my speech patterns. I didn't necessarily have to raise the pitch very much. In fact, when I did, both Hannah and Missy were in agreement that it sounded completely fake. But we discovered if I just spoke softer, with more of a singing quality, it made my voice sound pleasantly feminine. I'd have to keep reminding myself to stay "in character," but if nothing else, I figured it would be a really good acting challenge. As per Mandy's instructions, I sat alone in the theater at the time Josh was told to arrive. I had about fifteen minutes to spare, and I found myself getting a little nervous over the prospect of what I was trying to pull off. Throughout my career as an actor, of course, I devoted so much time and effort to creating character illusions. At the same time, however, all of these situations were circumstances where an audience was completely aware that this was an actor attempting to suspend disbelief. This was different. This was a complete deception, and while I treated it as an acting challenge, I was aware that there would be a lot more happening than just fooling someone with a costume. I knew, of course, that the most effective way to embody a part was to allow it to take over, to go from the point of willing yourself to adopt the looks, tones, gestures, and total persona of a character to the point where the character actually controls you in a way. This was something I'd successfully experienced before, and always with very satisfying results. I was already aware, however, that this would take me into uncharted territories in my psyche. Two years earlier, I got the opportunity to play Hitler in an original play by a local history professor. I took the role very seriously, and that meant coming to terms with very basic conflicts between my values and a value system completely alien to me. Crossing those boundaries fascinated me, and I believe I was able to successfully trip switches and alter myself from the inside out. Could I do that with Sally? The idea fascinated and intrigued me. My first encounter with Josh, I knew, would be the first step. Having never met the man, I realized that this was going to be a blank slate. Everything Josh would think about me would be based upon this creation of Missy and Hannah. I had no idea how long Mandy would allow this charade to go on, but I promised myself that I would study Josh's reactions to me very, very carefully. I actually jumped when the sound of the front door in the lobby opening echoed through the theater. I was seated at the large table we would be using to do the initial "table read" for the play, shuffling some papers around, but so nervous now that I wouldn't be able to read anything if I tried. When the door to the theater opened, I turned towards the sound... and was immediately disappointed. Josh poked his head in the door, and Mandy was right: he really did look like a geek. Big, thick glasses, in unimpressive frames. Bad skin. And his outfit of a plaid shirt and jeans, which didn't fit him, completed the picture. But he smiled at me when he saw me. "Is this where the rehearsals are?" he asked. I nodded and smiled. Remembering to control my voice, I said, "Yes, it is." Josh held out his hand. "I'm Josh." I shook his hand, noticing for the first time that neither Missy nor Hannah had thought about doing my nails. I still had guy hands. Somehow, though, it seemed to make my transformation more believable. Less was more. "Are you in the play?" Josh asked, sitting down next to me. The smell of his cologne was strong, and I made an effort to think of it as a scent which would attract me. And, in fact, this triggered an entire slew of thoughts, all at lightning-like rapidity, of my role in the situation I in which I found myself. For the novice, the hardest thing about acting is forgetting who you are, ignoring that you're someone pretending to be something else, and feeling the role. Lots of actors never get there, never lose the awareness of who they are and what they're doing. I have to admit myself that I only reach that point rarely, usually only with a fantastic part and under an expert director. When it happens, it's sublime. It just doesn't happen very often. In this particular case, there were additional motivations to get in character: Simply put, I didn't want this guy, whom I'd never laid eyes on before, wondering what a guy was doing dressed up as a girl trying to start a conversation... at least, not until Mandy came to my rescue and explained the situation. It's almost as important for an actor to be aware of how those around him are reacting as it is to react, and in the case with Josh, this took on a unique complexity. Being aware that I genuinely projected the image of a reasonably attractive woman, and judging by the smiles Josh gave me as he settled in, I had to assume that he felt some attraction to me. What difference did that make? Before this, I wouldn't have thought it made any difference. But now, in the hot seat, as it were, I was suddenly feeling the difference in the way his eyes were studying me. I guess what had my mind whizzing the most was the simple fact that I knew how I reacted in the presence of an attractive woman, the thoughts that went through my head reflexively, and knowing that this was the way Josh was currently thinking had me feeling... well, I won't say uncomfortable, exactly. Just out of place. Uneasy. "Have you worked with this group before?" he asked me. "Several times," I said. "This is my first time," he said, "but I've worked with the director a few times, with other groups. She's terrific." I nodded. "I've worked with Mandy before too." Then he gave me a smile that just had to be calculated and deliberate. "So I guess you're the star, huh?" "What makes you say that?" "You've got star quality," he said. Now I was convinced that he was flirting with me. The thing was, the awkwardness of the way he led into his flirting had me fairly convinced that he wasn't really all that good at it. "I don't know about that." "Well," he pressed on, "you had my attention the moment I stepped into the room, I can tell you that for sure." I tried to smile back at him. "Thanks." Was it a flirty smile? I don't know. I didn't have enough control over my characterization yet to know. "So what's this company like to work with?" he asked. "Very professional," I said. "So I've heard. That will be great. The last company I worked with," he said, rolling his eyes, "were just too wild and crazy. You wouldn't believe the things that went on backstage." The tone of his voice as he asked the question all but begged me to follow up with, "Really? Like what?" "It was practically an orgy, every night," he said with a suggestive smile. "People couldn't keep their hands off of each other. I don't know what caused all of that energy, but it was there, I can tell you." Then he paused for the exact right amount of time and said, "You ever work with a company like that?" Of course, I immediately picked up on the subtext of the question: Do you have a wild, erotic streak in you? Immediately, I was at a crossroads. Should I put out his fire right away, or should I play along? Even though I knew Mandy would end the charade shortly, I thought it would be kind of cruel to string him along, even for a short time, so I shook my head. "No," I said, "I try to work only for serious theater groups." Did that sound snobbish? "You're missing out on the fun..." he said with a sly smile. He was keeping up the flirtatious line of conversation, hoping I'd play along. It was, in a way, kind of painfully obvious, and I almost felt guilty not accommodating him. But, again, the fact that I knew that this line of conversation had, of course, no chance of going anywhere and he didn't, it seemed almost cruel to lead him down a dead end. "So what part do you play?" I said, changing the subject. "To tell you the truth," he said, "I don't have any idea. Mandy's being really secretive about all of this. I haven't even seen a script. Have you?" Playing along, I shook my head. "No. Not yet." "That's too bad," he said. "I thought maybe we could share a script." Okay, I thought, this guy doesn't know when to stop. Fortunately, before I had to brush him back again, several other people entered at once. Mandy was among them, and she gave me a secretive smile as she passed. I looked around, and the only person I recognized was Jill. The entire cast, it seemed, were newcomers. Mandy got everyone in order and seated around the big table and gave the prerequisite director's speech. She explained that she was trying some new things this time around, and that she hoped we were all good sports and willing to play along with some of her games. I thought this was the perfect time for her to let everyone in on my little masquerade, but she just carried on to some details about the script and how we should all be honored to do one of Val's plays, and so on. After this, she said, "I don't know most of you, but I think it's great to get so much fresh blood into the group." She pointed at Jill, and said, "Jill has been with the group a long time, and we've worked on several projects together." Then, she held her hand out towards me and, to my surprise, said, "And Josie here has worked as an actor, a playwright, and a director for our group..." Josie? Not much happened that first night. Mandy asked the new actors to introduce themselves and mention some of their achievements, after which she told everyone that there were still some printing difficulties with the scripts but that we would start rehearsals anyway, and that we would be getting ready for a table read the next day. "Josie?" I asked Mandy after everyone -- but Jill -- had cleared out. "I wanted to see whether everyone bought the illusion," Mandy explained with a bright smile. "They did!" "Okay," I said, "so how long before let everyone in on the joke?" "Well," Mandy said, "I was going to tell everyone at the end of the rehearsal tonight... I really was. But once I saw the way people were reacting to you -- or, to be more specific, how they were not reacting to you, not seeing anything out of the ordinary -- I thought I could keep things going a little longer, just for observational purposes. How about you? What did you think about it?" "It was a little strange." "How did you think about the way Josh reacted to you?" "I thought he was a little flirty." "No doubt about that. He wanted to get into your panties." I'm sure I blushed a little as Mandy laughed. "But that's good," Mandy said. "That's what he's supposed to want." "That's what you say," I said, but with a smile. "Well," Mandy said, an intrigued look in her eyes, "what do you say? How does it feel to be sexually desired as a woman?" I had to think a moment. "Well, it's awkward, for one." "Why?" "Isn't that obvious?" "Let's pretend nothing's obvious. I want your observations." "In the first place," I said, after a little thought, "I wasn't even close to losing myself in the character. I was still way too aware of being a guy dressed up as a girl, so there was no way I could really think like a girl. Hopefully, I can get there, but not yet. So my initial reaction to Josh was how desperately he was trying to establish some kind of connection. As a guy, I'm thinking, 'Whoa, slow down, man...' I'd never approach a woman like that." Mandy nodded. "Now, try to think like a woman, and give me your reaction." I laughed nervously. "I don't know that I can." "Try." Mindy was predictable, if nothing else. "Okay..." I said, slowly, stalling for time. "I think he's a little bit creepy. Jill, who had been meandering around the theater, came and joined in on the conversation. Her ever-present smile was annoying. "What do you think he'd be like in bed?" Mandy pushed on. "Excuse me?" "Thinking as a woman, of course," she explained, "what do you think he'd be like as a lover?" "Okay, okay," I said, smiling, "this is all very funny, but the joke's over..." "I'm not joking," Mandy said, in such a way as to instantly convince me she wasn't. "We're pursuing this deeper. Every woman has to come to some kind of decision about the people she decides to go to bed with. I want to know what Sally's assessment of Josh would be." Jill wasn't saying anything. She was enjoying herself too much. "Just relax," Mindy said. "I'm just asking for Sally's opinion." I forced myself to calm down and to start putting myself into a girl's mind set. A bit reluctantly, I said, "Okay... well, he comes across as being so desperate... I don't think he'd be very good. He'd either be too eager to please, or he'd be terribly clumsy. I don't think he'd have any finesse at all." "Good," Mandy said. "I think that's a great observation... not to mention the fact that I think you're probably right. Now," she said, shifting in her chair, with a quick exchange of glances between her and Jill, "let's take things even deeper." "Oh, let's not..." I said, half joking. "No, no, we're doing great so far." "Easy for you to say." "I know it's tough, and I know it's awkward, but it's fascinating." "I guess I'm just having a tough time letting go, you know? I mean, I've got this gay stigma nagging at me." "I understand. And that's what you've got to get over. If you become a woman, it's not gay at all for you to think sexually towards men. You've just got to reach that point." I nodded. "I'm trying." "I think," Jill said, "you need to go through another rehearsal as Josie... without the others knowing it." "But isn't that a mean trick to play on them? I mean, Josh is making a fool out of himself flirting with me. If I was him, I'd be really pissed off when I learned the truth." "I'll sell them on the idea," Mandy assured me. "And, in fact, a big part of the reason I'm pushing for this is to help Josh in his characterization. Josh will understand Uncle Leo's vulnerability to such a deception." Mandy smiled at me. "So, what do you say, Josie? One more day?" I couldn't say no to Mandy. I never could. "Okay. One more day," I said. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to take all this crap off and go home." Jill smiled. "Why don't you just wear it home?" I looked at her as though she was nuts. "I ride the bus home." "Well, it would definitely help you hone your persona," Mandy said. "You'd pretty much have no choice." "Thanks, but no thanks," I said, pulling off my wig and heading for the dressing room. ------------------------ "Before too long," Hannah said, her pretty face twisted in concentration as she drew sharp black lines under my eyes, "you'll be able to do this by yourself." Missy, who was going through another pile of donated clothes, searching for suitable outfits for Sally, chimed in, "Now there's a valuable life skill for you!" "Who said you can't learn anything in the theater?" I joked, trying hard not to reflexively dodge Hannah and her persistent mascara. "What do you think, Sally?" called Missy. "You want to go for something a little sexier this time around?" "I don't think that's necessary," I said. "Oh, come on," Hannah said. "Live a little!" Missy held up a white skirt and asked Hannah, "You think this is too short?" "I think," I interjected, "that if you have to ask, yes, it's too short." "It's fine," Hannah said, trumping me. I looked at the skirt. It was light and flared out. The kind that are really fashionable with teenage girls. My only thought was that it was going to be a new challenge for me to face, moving around in something like that without showing things I was sure I didn't want shown. It took considerably less time for Hannah to work her magic with me this time, and soon, I was ready for Missy, who dressed me in the aforementioned skirt and a black turtleneck, which was tight enough to emphasize my considerably-stuffed bra. "I like this outfit," Missy said. "The flare of the skirt makes up for the fact that you don't have any hips." "You trying to hurt my feelings?" I joked, checking myself out in the mirror, doing a few experimental turns to see just how this skirt would move. "Naw," Missy said. "You have a magnificent ass. Can't wait to see what the audience thinks of it..." I could wait quite a while. Val showed up at this rehearsal, which was fairly unusual. She usually didn't start turning up until we started work shopping the play, but Mandy explained that the reason for her appearance was that she had added some material to the script and wanted to hear how it sounded voiced by real actors. This seemed reasonable, but the smile Mandy gave me when she said the words "new material" raised a caution flag. Josh was friendly to me as ever when he arrived, and I did my best to be charming but aloof. I have to admit that I was a little taken aback when Josh pulled out my chair at the table and held it for me until I sat down. What the hell was that all about? Never mind. I knew. With Val sitting in a corner of the room taking notes, we were given our scripts and launched into a dry table read before we really had a chance to read over anything. It had been several days since I'd read the earlier draft of the script, but I could already tell that Val had already done some heavy- duty polishing of the dialogue. And each change she made was exactly right. Josh -- who, predictably, had chosen the seat next to me -- kept looking at me whenever something provocative would happen. I think he was a little surprised -- pleasantly -- when we came to the scene where Uncle Leo walks in on Sally, bent over his desk in her nightgown. He gave me a mischievous look, and I just know he was picturing me in a nightgown. Damn. I was blushing. We carried on with our table read, often breaking down in laughter at Val's wonderfully witty dialogue and outrageous situation. As the play carried on, however, it became more and more apparent that Sally was the source of most of the outrageous humor. I was actually a little surprised that no one even suspected my true sex if only because of the script. It was completely obvious that Sally was a man in the script. The only conclusion I could come to was that the cast thought that Josie would be masquerading as a man when it came time to play Sal. Incredible. At the same time, I was very proud of the fact that I had everyone fooled, and, truth be told, it was much easier to get more into the character of Sally when I had an entire group of people believing me. I was cruising along, actually pushing things further and further, when I came to a scene I hadn't encountered in the earlier script. The scene took place between Sally and Uncle Leo, and it involved Sally creating a subterfuge while the evil niece essentially robbed Uncle Leo of his fortune. According to the plot, it was absolutely essential that Sally hold Uncle Leo's complete attention. That was important: his complete attention. And that was where Val decided to take things completely over the top. In an earlier scene -- the nightgown scene -- Val had included a bit where, when Uncle Leo first discovers Sally, he playfully gives her a whack on her exposed ass. Val revisited this idea with her new scene, in that Sally's subterfuge to hold Uncle Leo's attention is by plying him with the idea that she liked being spanked, and wanted Uncle Leo to do it again. Of course, spanking always has an element of humor in it, and the idea the Sal -- a man -- would be turned over Uncle Leo's lap made things all the more hilarious... in theory. Things were, however, slightly less hilarious from the point of view of the one being spanked in front of a live audience. As we read the scene, I gave Mandy a concerned look, as if to ask, How are we going to pull this off?' She just smiled reassuringly, and while I had every confidence that we would pull it off brilliantly, I couldn't help wondering what kind of indignities I would be subjected to in order to maximize the hilarity of Val's masterpiece. When we made it through the first table read, there was a burst of applause from the cast. It was pretty much the first time any of them had any inkling of what kind of play they'd be participating in, and I don't think anyone was remotely disappointed. As we were getting ready to call it a day, Mandy said, "Well, before we leave, does anybody have anything else to share with us?" She gave me a look of invitation. I was frozen on the spot. It just seemed like the most awkward thing in the world to stand up and announce to everyone that I was not what I seemed. What was I going to do? Other members of the cast contributed a few thoughts, mostly expressing their admiration for the script and a few ideas as to what they felt about their characters. All the while, Mandy was giving me these looks, as if to say, Okay, it's time now... Finally, I just shook my head. She responded with a look of exasperation, but didn't say anything until everyone had cleared out for the night but me, Mandy, Pam and Val. "Why didn't you tell them?" Mandy asked. "I couldn't. I suddenly got completely self-conscious, and thought everyone would just be furious at me." Mandy knew my personality: I hated having people angry with me. "Well you're going to have to spill the beans soon," Jill said, "or Josh is going to ask you out on a date." She was smiling, but we all knew that this was entirely possible. "What I don't get," I said, "is how they all think that Josie could pass for a guy if these," I said, cupping my 'breasts,' "are real. Do they think I could just strap these down?" "Maybe you can just take them out of your bra and toss them onto the table at the next rehearsal," Mandy said. "I've got to find a way to break the news to everyone without seeming like I've been lying." I insisted. "That's easy enough," Mandy said. "I'll take the blame. I'll say that I put you up to it as an experiment. Which, in fact, is true." "Will you tell them?" I asked. Mandy nodded. "Sure. Next rehearsal." "Thank you. Now, if you'll excuse me," I said with a weak smile, "my bra is killing me..." The cat was out of the bag at the next rehearsal, at which I turned up as Joey. Mandy went through an elaborate explanation of her experiment to a rather stunned cast as I sat in my chair, painfully self-conscious. I couldn't help notice Josh, who was avoiding any eye contact with me. He looked as though he might be a little angry over the whole thing, and I can't say I would blame him for it. To her credit, Mandy did her best to absolve me of the blame, and soon, after the shock faded, I started getting compliments about the effectiveness of my masquerade. Even Josh -- perhaps to save face -- admitted that he'd been considering asking me out. By the time we began working, everything was fine, although everyone's perception of how things were going to work onstage surely had changed considerably. This was apparent immediately once we started blocking. Blocking, simply, is the plotting out of how actors move onstage: where everyone stands, where and when everyone walks, stands, sits, gestures, etc. In many cases, learning the blocking for a play can be just as challenging as learning dialogue, and many directors, Mandy included, like to jump into blocking right away. Having worked with her before, her approach was familiar to me: she approached the task with broad strokes at first, and then continuously fine-tuned everything, pretty much right up until opening night. Right away, I started to feel that the blocking of this play, for me, was going to be very challenging. It was also apparent that Josh and I were going to be spending a lot of time getting very close. I was kind of hoping that time would run out before we got to the spanking scene that night, and to my relief, Mandy called an end to things right before I would have ended up over Josh's lap. That meant, of course, that the next night, this would be where we started, and, as we were leaving, Mandy pulled me aside and made me regret that rehearsals had ended when they did. "I'm going to call in Missy and Hannah for tomorrow," Mandy told me, "and we'll get you dressed up." "Why?" "Two reasons," she said. "First, it's going to make the mechanics of blocking the spanking scene easier for me. But more importantly," she went on, "I want to see how Josh is going to react to you when you're back in costume. He's obviously uncomfortable with some of the more intimate moments between the two of you now that he knows the truth, and I want to see what I can do about putting him more at east. This is critical. It really is at the heart of the play." I understood what she was saying. I didn't especially like it, but I understood it... and agreed with her. ---------------------------- Josh and I stood opposite each other onstage, with Mandy in between us. The rest of the cast had their attentions turned on us. There were many smiles in the house, mostly from the women. It was becoming more and more apparent that there was something strangely satisfying for a woman to watch a man going through the ordeals of femininity. The timing of this particular scene was complex. At first, Uncle Leo pursues Sally around the stage, trying to pin her down for a kiss. Everything changes suddenly, however, when Sally realizes that she had to keep Uncle Leo occupied, and she becomes the pursuer. This leads to her proposing that Uncle Leo take her over his knee, and Uncle Leo eagerly accepting. Everything went fine right up until the moment where things change. Mandy tried several ideas as to how Sally could indicate that she knew she had to keep Uncle Leo's attention, but nothing worked. Then, from the audience, Jill spoke up. "I have an idea." Mandy looked at her. "What's that?" I think Jill deliberately kept a straight face as she said, "Well, up to that point, Uncle Leo's been chasing her, right? She needs to let herself get 'caught'." "And then what?" Mandy asked. "She needs to let Uncle Leo kiss her." There were giggles from the cast, and Josh gave an undisguised look of discomfort. I looked at Mandy -- just as uncomfortable as Josh -- and waited for her verdict. "Not bad," she said. "But we need to up it a notch, I think. Let Sally kiss him. Hard and passionately. That'll make sense with the plot and get a laugh from the audience." Mandy turned to me and smiled. "You up for it?" "I don't know, Mandy," I said. "Come on. Let's try." "Can't we just pretend for now?" Josh asked. Mandy shook her head firmly. "No way. One thing I've learned from experience is you get these awkward things out of the way immediately. There are going to be giggles and discomfort and all kinds of things happening here. We need to just keep doing it and doing it until it gets boring to both of you." She looked at me and said, "That ought to sound familiar to you..." I knew what she meant. A while back I had directed a play where two teenagers had to kiss, and at first, they had fits of giggles and awkwardness. I made them do the scene over and over again until it got to be a pain for them. That solved the problem. Of course, I never expected something like this to be applied to me - - and especially not like this -- but I listened carefully as Mandy worked out the actions move by move. "Josh," Mandy said before our first shot, "up until today, you looked at this attractive creature and saw a girl you would have easily dated. Am I right?" "Yeah," Josh admitted. "Well, I want you to recall that. This is Josie. She's a sexy woman. Think back to yesterday. Use your recall." Josh nodded. I don't think he was convinced. At all. "I could clear the set if you don't want the cast watching," Mandy offered. "No," I said. "They need to get used to it too." "Okay, then," Mandy said. "Let's get to work..." I had to become Sally. It was the only way for me to deal with having Josh's face just inches from mine, having to reach out, grab the sides of his head, and bring his lips to my own. Only a girl can be comfortable with this, I told myself. Only a girl... The first attempt was, predictably, a disaster. I missed his mouth completely, inspiring laughs from everyone. In many complex moves, the mechanics have to be broken down, and, when it comes to the stage, sometimes even the most simple everyday motions become incredibly complicated when they have to be executed consistently. In this case, Mandy had to choreograph our movements: the tilt of our heads, the positions of our hands and feet, and so on. It took four or five step-by-step, slow-motion run-throughs to even get things to work right. Then we brought it up to speed. And then, Jill opened her mouth again. "Why don't you have Uncle Leo grab Sally's butt once he realizes that she's supposed to be hot for him. More laughter... except from Mandy, who was considering the way it would look from the audience. "Good idea," Mandy said finally. 'Oh, good grief...' I thought. Mandy worked out a sequence of events: When Sally grabs Uncle Leo to pull him towards her, he flails his hands helplessly in the air for a few moments, then gets over the surprise and finally drops his hands and brings them back up over her ass. This worked fine right off the bat, although for me, it was kind of a sensory overload, having to kiss a guy and then having my ass fondled. I wouldn't have a chance to get used to it before Jill -- sweet, helpful Jill -- upped the ante again by suggesting that Uncle Leo instead bring his hands up under Sally's skirt to do his fondling. By this point, it was like being in the middle of a tornado: You don't try to understand what's going on, or what's going to happen next. You just deal with the reality of the moment, and the reality was that there I was, kissing Josh while his hands kneaded my ass through a very thin pair of nylon panties. (Never thought I'd have a moment where I wished I was wearing pantyhose...) "How's it look?" Mandy called down to Jill after our third run- through. "Pretty damned sexy," Jill said, which, understandably, drew some laughs from those watching. "How about it, Josh?" Mandy asked. "How does it feel to you?" Josh blushed at this. "Uh... it's okay." "Is Sally a real girl to you yet?" "No," Josh admitted. "Not yet." "We probably should have waited a little longer before telling you," Mandy said. "Imagine how you'd feel if you didn't know..." "I'm trying not to," Josh said. "Well you need to. It's time to drop your hang-ups and approach things as a true actor. Live the role. Live the part. Imagine what Uncle Leo would fee if he had his hands all over a gorgeous girl's ass..." Josh nodded. The hard part about dealing with something like this was that Mandy was so convincing. We spent so long working out that one kissing scene that it took up the entire evening. So much for Mandy doing a rough blocking. Was she simply aware that this was going to be one of the toughest scenes, or was she simply enjoying herself too much? "Why can't I wear pantyhose?" I pleaded the next day as Hannah and Missy transformed me. "It won't work with the spanking," Mandy said. "Why not?" "Just trust me, okay?" Mandy said. "I can see in my head the way it's going to work. Besides," she added with a smile, "do you gain a reputation as a man who begs to wear pantyhose?" "I don't like Josh's hands all over my ass without a little more cover." "You'll get used to it," Hannah said. "How do you know?" I retorted. "How many geeks' hands have you had on your ass?" "Cute," was all she could say. "If you want to really freak him out," Missy cackled, "on opening night, just do the scene without panties!" While Hannah and Missy were sharing a laugh over that, Mandy said, simply, "No, that wouldn't work, because Sally's skirt is going to be flipped up when she gets spanked. I gave Mandy a look. "Say that again...?" "Yeah," Mandy said. "Val revised the script. When Sally goes over Uncle Leo's knee, he flips up her skirt." "Mandy..." "Don't gripe about it," she said. "Read the script first. It's way funnier. Besides, you'll be facing the audience. I want them to see your facial reactions. The only person who'll see anything is, well, Uncle Leo." "That's reassuring," I said. "So," Mandy said to Missy, "make sure you pick the right kind of panties for the scene." "Is the audience going to see them at all?" Missy asked. "We're still deciding that, so assume that they will..." SMACK! "Ow! Son of a bitch!" >From the audience, I heard Mandy's voice: "That's not your line..." I was draped over Josh's lap, my skirt flipped up over my back. I reached back to rub my ass, stinging from a sharp swat from Josh's hand. "This shit hurts!" I said. "You big baby," Mandy taunted me. It was, predictably, her idea that Josh really whack me the seven times required in the script. "If the audience knows you're really getting swatted," she said, "it will be funnier." I don't know how enthusiastic Josh was about the whole idea, but I did notice that his attitude towards me had changed since the day before. He wasn't so cold and standoffish, and he smiled when he saw me. He also called me "Sally." What was that about? One thing was for certain: he didn't have a problem laying into me once I was over his lap. Mandy wanted his swats to have the loudest possible sound, and we actually experimented with different techniques. Midway through these tests, Mandy requested that I go back to the dressing room and have Missy suit me up with nylon panties rather than cotton, since the cotton seemed to be absorbing some of the sound. I had to make that humiliating walk backstage to get my panties changed. "You're getting red," Josh said a little later, after the umpteenth swat had landed. I didn't need him to tell me that, and I also didn't need the thought that he was looking closely enough to make that observation. "She is?" Mandy said with a strange enthusiasm, climbing up on to the stage to take a look. "I want to see too!" said Jill, who followed Mandy. This was too much, and I rolled off of Josh's lap and pulled my skirt down. "That's enough!" I said. "No, no, no," Mandy said, "it's important. Let me see." "Why is it important?" "Just do it," she said. No one can resist Mandy. On a play, the director is God. So I turned so the rest of the cast couldn't see and lifted my skirt from behind. "I have an idea..." said Mandy, and my blood ran cold. We never had time to explore Mandy's idea. It was time to go home. I headed to the dressing room, and as I did, I reached up to tug off my wig. "Don't do that," I heard Josh call to me. When I turned to look at him, he said, "Wait until you get back to the dressing room." "Why?" I asked. Josh looked around uncomfortably. "I want to keep seeing you as... Sally." "I think it's a great idea," Mandy said when I discussed the matter with her a little bit later. "Every rehearsal?" I said. "Isn't that excessive?" "Maybe," Mandy said. "But isn't that what this theater group is about? We take things further than any other group? I mean, I know it's a hassle, getting made up and dressed each time, but soon, you'll be able to do it yourself, and the time it takes will go down significantly. But much more importantly, I want Josh thinking of you as a girl. The more complete his illusion, the better." "Well," I said in resignation, "you've gone the extra mile for me enough times that I'm sure I owe this to you." Mandy smiled warmly. "Do you think you owe me one more? Kind of a big one?" "What?" I asked, completely suspicious. "I was wondering whether you'd come in tomorrow for a few hours." "I thought that was our day off." "It is. But are a few things I want to work on with you two." "Care to fill me in on what that might be?" "I just want to do some improvising, to watch you react to each other, make some suggestions, try a few experiments." I stared at her. "You seem to be taking this way too seriously," I said. "Not at all," she said. "Isn't that why we're here? To