The Ryndex

This post relates to Gilman’s Model: The Fotonovel.

ALAIN: The action builds to a fury here.

RYAN: I have to go to the bathroom, be right back!

ALAIN: Is he gone? Ryan?

ALAIN: Thank god. Let me say that the action does NOT build to a fury here. It plods along with the apathetic distaste of a spoiled French poodle being fed an improperly stirred McFlurry.

ALAIN: (pause) That’s right. Hem and haw my magnificent words as if they were sodden hairballs.

ALAIN: (pause) I mean, really. Can’t he even point at a door with some semblance of elan? Geoffrey is carrying this scene alone, and even our thespian gargantuan is struggling under the insipidity of that dragweight.

ALAIN: (pause) Is he even thinking about the movie? Or is he still too preoccupied with scoring goofballs to behop himself up on? He’s like a marionette made of flaccid old porkchops, half the strings cut.

RYAN: I’m back.

ALAIN: Did you wash your hands?

RYAN: (pause) I’ll be right back.