Participants:
Featuring:
and 
| Scene Title | You Sound Boring |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | A new employee to Studio K gets put through a contractual wringer. It's a good thing he's got his entourage to back him up. |
| Date | February 3, 2011 |
If there was ever a definition of a man who is white like Wonderbread, it would be Dirk, Kristen's assistant. In an attempt to look phat and phresh for the newest star to grace those contracted to Studio K, he's bebooping his way down the hall toward the sound booths. He's about as fly and hip as the residents of Shady Acres Retirement Village.
"Zip-zabbity-wow-wow~ Scoodly-oobedy-zap-pow~" Little finger guns are pointed and click clicked at members of the entourage positioned outside the door. "Saaaaayyy what's the happs my brothahs from anothah mothah~?" The petite man leans to the side to try to peek into the sound booth and catch a glimps of the man he's here to see. Being K's executive assistant carries the perk of having access to them all. "I'm here to see Smooooooooov, K sent me."
Big R glances down at Dirk, lips remaining in a perpetual frown. The giant man then shifts his weight some off the wall to peer down intently at Dirk. Trying to figure out what he is. The big man glances down at the smaller, darker man at his right.
Tic frowns lightly at Dirk, glancing into the soundbooth. "He's busy right now." Tic lets out, sounding somewhat apologetic. Even though this guy seems super weird, it doesn't hurt to be polite. "What do you need? I can leave a message with him?"
The catlike smile of the petite blond man is almost above board and beyond suspicion, but he's Dirk and everyone in the building knows that if he's away from his desk and not on a motorized vehicle of some sort, then he's up to something. "There's a teeeensy glitch in the contract that I wanted to go over with him. Just some of the public appearance things, you know, standard stuff." He leans to the other side to try to see around Big R but then looks up at him with a smile. "Man, you're a big drink of hot chocolate, aren't you?"
No, Dirk just isn't as smooth as Smoov. Or any of his entourage. "It's just a few tiny things, shouldn't take more than a minute… Maybe he could stop by K's office when he's done? My desk is just outside."
Tic takes a step forward. "You can go over that with me. I'm his manager." The smaller of the pair admits, eyeing Dirk for a long moment. "Public appearance stuff? Like what. The required appearances were already listed and went over. Are you trying to add something? The ink is already on the paper." The smaller man sounds somewhat defensive as he gives Dirk a once over.
"No no, not add just a tweak here and there." Pulling a wrinkled piece of paper from his pocket, he smooths it out in his hands and points to a few dates listed. "These are some of the ones that I wanted to go over. See here, here, and here? These are appearances that all the studio members have to attend." A quick glance is given to Tic and a more reproachful one to Big R before Dirk continues. "I thought it might show a better— you know— more solid commitment to the Studio if say… Smoov went with K?"
A somewhat sly smile spreads across his features but is quickly wiped away before too many people notice. Hopefully. "Usually she goes to these things alone but you know… she's getting up there in age and stuff and while it was hip and trendy back then it just seems so… I don't know… Crazy cat woman now, you see what I mean? Besides, would it really hurt his career to be linked to the head of one of the hottest production studios on the east coast?"
The paper is snagged quickly from Dirk as the smaller of Smoov's entourage looks it over. Tic takes a long hard stare at Dirk, before glancing to the larger man beside him then back. A long moment is spent staring at Dirk before a low "Shit." Is growled out. The paper is given another glance. "What'd I tell you R?" It's said in a conversational tone but quickly escalates. "What. Did. I. Tell. You?" The paper is practically flung back at Dirk. "Everyone in god damn New York City is a hustler. I told him, I said: Kojo, everyone in god damn New York City is a god damn hustler. But he was just all— " Tic's voice switches over to a terrible Jamaican accent. "Oh it be airee man, oh it be all good— "
Tic points accusingly at Dirk while talking to the big man as if Dirk wasn't here. "But they're sending over little Simon Birch to start tweaking things. The only thing gettin' tweaked around here is Alph Alpha's meth habit." A glance given to Dirk. "We have a nice big meeting signin' all these papers and the fucking day we get into the city! Fucking day! We startin' to have tweaks. I can't handle this right now. I can't look at this man." So Tic turns to face the wall instead of Dirk. His arms are folded and apparently he refuses to look at Dirk.
Big R looks down with a combination of disdain and sympathy for the smallest and whitest of the three men. A light apologetic shrug is given. "It's not a bad tweak." He offers somewhat quietly,
Which has Tic turning again. "We signed the papers R. What's next on the contract, Kojo has to make breakfast in bed every other Sunday for Catwoman? Jesus M. Christ."
"Catwoman? Halle Berry, Michelle Pfeiffer, or that new one? Because none of them are contracted through Studio K, but if you want… I might be able to pull some strings." The white man's thin shoulders come up and drop almost as quickly as he shakes his head, glancing at Big R with a 'i dunno' sort of expression on his face.
Bending down to pick up the piece of paper, he folds it neatly and passes it back to Tic with a placating smile. "Just think it over.. oh.. and uhm… I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention any of this to K, okay? She doesn't really know that I took this into my own hands and uhm… well you know how it is, right bro?"
"Ruff. Eat his head off." Tic commands sternly maintaining his frustrated gaze on Dirk. Big R makes no move to do any such thing. But Tic does accept the paper back though he doesn't continue to comment on Dirk, he simply stares and glares at the little man. "You better get steppin', Minime. Or kids in Niccaaraaguaa will be hearin' about what you're tryin' to do. As well as K." Tic makes an aggravated gesture for the man to get moving.
"A'right then! Glad we could have this little chat… and uhm.. yeah, tell Smoov to get in touch, alright? I have these great tickets for a party coming up, I think all three of you could appreciate— " Dirk pauses for a moment before flashing a bright smile and spinning on his heel. As he begins sauntering down the hall, he lifts one hand in a backward finger wave. "Toodles~"
There was at least one witness to this exchange, no one of importance, just a little sound editor that was getting a drink from the cooler. Some nameless twentysomething guy hired in off the street for no reason in particular. He's not even that good at his job, which is why he's been kicked out into the hallway instead of being inside the sound booth with the rest of the crew. "Wow… that's uhm.. " He stares after Dirk and just shakes his head as he passes by the two men at the door. "Excuse me, I gotta go talk to someone."
"Don't look at me." Tic exclaims loudly at the nameless whatever whoever guy.
"You shouldn't get so mad." This coming from the giant, looking down at the smaller man.
"Don't start with me R. I don't like how cold it is here. I don't like how unfriendly everyone is. And I don't like how everyone is making fun of my voice." Tic mumbles sounding kind of sad at the last. Pounding on the door. "Ko-jo! Get out here man, a midget was lookin' for you."
The pound eventually has one Kojo Clarke sticking his head from the crack a somewhat agitated look painted on his features. "What?" He mutters. Glancing up at Tic the piece of paper is handed over.
"Midget wants you to be the big lady's date." Big R reports gruffly.
Arching a brow at the little circles on the contract, Smoov gives a light nod. "I'll go an' see her den." The man reports before disappearing back into the soundbooth. The door closes. A few long moments pass and the door reopens. A young woman leaving, and trying to tame her inexplicably mussed hair. While smoothing down the recently acquired wrinkles in her clothing.
Finally Kojo exits the soundbooth. Blue sunglasses pressing up over his eyes. The man seems to be going with a blue theme today. A blue and gray motorcycle jacket worn over a black t-shirt and a pair of jeans. "Which way again?" To which he receives two very helpful shrugs.
Down the hall, through a door, a few turns later, and through another door, Dirk stands at his post in front of Kristen's door. It's almost as though he never left the place at all, certainly the woman behind the large double doors didn't notice he was gone. When he looks up to see Smoov coming his way he steps out from behind the desk and stretches out a hand.
"Mister Clark! Hey there, I was hoping you'd stop in… K's pretty uhm…" He glances at the door and then back to the man in blue for just a tick. "K's not here," he says quickly. "Busy woman you know… But I can go over those little details with you, she trusts me implicitely."
Someone is in the office though, someone who is talking on the phone. That someone has a definite feminine quality to her voice.
Kojo looks down at Dirk, his expression remaining somewhat neutral for a while. People like this exist in the world, and Smoov has to exist in the same world as them. But that's why he has two other men constantly working for him. And when he walks up, Tic and R are right behind him. Glancing down at Dirk, the man looks to the two men behind him.
And that's when Tic takes a step forward. "Sit down. And don't talk to him." The man may not be the most large and imposing. But the stern voice and matter of fact look he delivers to Dirk could be considered a tad bit scary. As well as the three hundred plus pound man standing over his shoulder, peering down.
With the boys running interference on Dirk, Smoov simply carries on with walking into the office.
Inside the office, K is busily attempting to arrange a few last minute details for a new show. Pointed toward a whiteboard, she's scribbling last minute changes to a lineup and when the door opens she turns with a downward quirk to her eyebrows. Apparently she's a bit perturbed at being distracted until her eyes meet those of the man coming through the door.
A little bit of confusion sets in and she furrows her eyebrows a little. "Kojo, how are you? Something wrong or just coming to visit?" A small twitch at the corner of her lips might suggest a smile but there's a narrowing of her eyes as she looks past him and out the door to the blond man sheepishly stepping out of sight. "Have a seat?"
"Sweetheart. If I have to make up excuses to come see you, you're gonna re-alize I'm a liar, real soon." Smoov's smile is one he saves ffor the moments he needs to pull out a lot of charm. It's not a full on smoulder however. This isn't that desperate of a situation. Going to sit languidly in the chair, he gives a little nod. "Everything's crease." Which is probably a good thing.
"How are you?" Smoov returns, tilting somewhat in his seat. Pulling up one shoe to rest on his other knee. "Me boys were telling me you sent whatshisface to tweak the contract a bit? Having me attend public apperances wit' you?" He smirks a little bit. "Darling, you don't have have to make something like that a requirement of me. I would love t'spend time with you."
"I— " there's a little choke that comes from the woman as her eyes widen and she stumbles back toward the desk. "— Didn't ask for the contract to be rewritten," Kristen says calmly, her eyes darting back and forth between Kojo and the door. Finally she settles her focus on him and gives a small smile. "But to answer your question, I'm fine… Just working on Dunham's show. Has he asked you to be a guest yet?"
With a twist, she sits up on the surface of her desk and crosses her legs at the knee. "If he hasn't, I would love to put you on." There's a small raise of her chin and then it tucks down again as she adds, "and, I think, that I'd love to spend some time with you."
On the other side of the door, Dirk is at his desk, his phone against his ear as he listens to the entire exchange. He leans over to the sound editor from the hallway and gives him a thumbs up before straightening to give the two members of the entourage a smile. "Matchmaker matchmaker make me a match~"
"Nah he hasn't." Kojo dismisses easily. "Haven't met the man yet. Haven't met anyone here. What happened with your boy, Russo?" Smoov tilts his head, arching a brow in interest. "Shot up that little man with a lasa beam, did he?" A little grin crawls up his lips. "You plan that sweetheart? I hate to disappoint, but I'm not going to be shootin' lasers anytime soon."
The former superstar glances over his shoulder before looking back at her. "That would be wonderful." He smiles lightly. "What do you do out here? In this freezing weather? How d'you expect me to keep warm out here?"
"You saw that?" The faux pas of the show has quickly gained noteriety, thanks to quite a few youtube videos set to different types of music and sound effects. "I didn't plan what happened, no, it was something of an unfortunate accident for Brad. It's turned his life upside down." There's a little bit of a downcast in her mood before she smiles again and slips off the desk.
"As for what to do in the freezing weather, what do you like to do? This is New York City, it's at least the gateway to the most fun on earth." A wry smirk forms on her lips as she follows his eyes to the door and then back again. "And for warmth, I can suggest a few different things. How do you feel about fur?"
"Used to be." Smoov corrects with a light grin. "Used to be. And I used to be the king in Los Angeles. Things change. I have to pay someone to even get an audition for a movie now, and New York's idea of fun looks like an automatic rifle shoved up a pair of asscheeks." One finger goes to pull his glasses down slightly. A light testing smile hanging on his lips.
"Well den, I'm sorry for your boy, Brad, den." One hand going out to express his sympathies for the other man working under K. "Fur can be nice." He lets out as an afterthought.
"All depends on where you go and who you're seen with," Kristen says lightly, "I think we could probably come up with something fun. Throw a few parties, maybe, or go to a few. Dirk has some tickets to something he keeps talking about." There has been murmurs around the office about a party at the Playboy mansion, every one of those murmurs coming from Dirk himself.
In rare form, Kristen pushes herself from the desk and takes the other seat that's on the same side of the desk as Smoov. "Tell me, what did you do back in L.A. to entertain yourself?" Halds folded, she places them over one knee and raises her eyebrow slightly.
"That little man with th'long hair?" Smoov asks, peering over his shoulder. "Interesting little guy you have working for you." The man's brows arch delicately as she raises up and comes to sit with him. "I'd get on a plane and go to New York." He grins a little, shaking his head. "You know. The usual."
"What do you do?"
"Work," is the simple answer but then she cracks a small smile and shades her dark eyes with a fan of long lashes. "Las Vegas, Atlantic City is a short drive. Are you a gambling man, Mister Clark?" The way she looks up and gives a devilish grin seems to suggest an alternate question of Do you like to take risks?
"Because if you are, I can show you around a few places." The offer made sounds like a personal tour rather than the usual accomodation of having Dirk perform the duty. "There's the Corinthian for more upscale entertainment. Bars of course, I've been to a few clubs aroun town." Kristen fails to mention that the last club she was at also had a gun fight and she manages to get her ankle crushed.
"My whole life is one big game of craps." Smoov's smile dies back down, turning some in his chair. Folding his arm on the back of the chair to face her better. "Atlantic City." He admits with a light grin. "It's been a while."
"Corinthian. But with this curfew goin' around, you have to be in bed by nine?" He frowns lightly. This doesn't sound too appealing to the man.
"The Corinthian is a hotel, you can gamble all night and not break curfew. As long as you're inside by nine, it doesn't matter where." Pursing her lips a little, Kristen's eyes slide toward the door and then back to Smoov's. "I've been looking into investing in something along the lines of an all night rave club. You know the kind, party starts at nine and goes until five?"
It may be just one of the reasons she was so eager to nab him while she had the chance.
"It sounds like a smart investment in this town." Smoove murmurs, tilting his head to the side. "I was thinkin' about starting a club back in Los Angeles." Kojo lets out a light hmm as he eyes Kristen for a moment. He looks to the door as well then back to her. "So.. This Bradley fella. With the laser hands." He grins broadly as if inviting her to speak on it.
"I think it will be, a very smart investment." The producer's eyebrow quirks upward as Kojo brings up the host again and her dark eyes scan his for a long moment. "He manifested on the air during a stressful time in his life." She falls back on the old standby statement, the one she used when the incident first happened. "It was an accident and there was only one minor injury, no charges were pressed."
"That's what you tell the cameras." Smoov soothes quietly. That smile tugging at his lips a little bit more before softening. His feet rest firmly on the ground as he leans over. One hand going to touch hers gently. "How are you really doing, sweetheart? One of your biggest talents on your flagship, tanking. Not to mention any personal ties you might have. A literal clusterfuck." He glances up at the ceiling for a moment. "'s got to hurt."
"It is what I tell the cameras," Kristen repeats, her voice smooth as silk, "and anyone who asks. If Brad wants to talk about it, he will. He just needs a little bit of time to get used to how he is now and control all of it." Her chin raises just enough to indicate a haughty nature but her free hand clamps over his, sandwiching it. After a small squeeze and a twitch of a smile, she twists and gets out of her chair to walk across the room.
There's a mini fridge there, filled with bottles of sparkling water. The producer leans over to take one out and offers it to the radio personality. "I'll be fine, it's what I do. It's not the first time something tragic has happened to Brad, it likely won't be the last. The show will go on."
A light dip of his chin in concession. Recalling his hand affter she sandwiches him, he crosses it over his stomach. Reaching out he takes a bottle of water. Going to twist it open easily. He tilts it back, taking a slow sip. Lowering the bottle, he gives a light nod to her explanation.
"Well good for you." Smoov lets out with a light grin. Sitting there for a moment, his brow arches as if to say. 'What next?'
"I wouldn't be able to keep talent if I couldn't protect them," Kristen emits lightly, twisting off the cap of her own bottle and taking a sip. Her eyebrows lift as she regards the man casually and lifts her chin. "What about you? What happened to make you lose the spotlight? I can't imagine it was your management, he's stuck by you through thick and thin. Was it your agent? Production company?" It might be a way of saying, she'll be treating him the same as she treats the rest of her talent. She'll stick.
"The bomb." Smoov explains quietly. "The bomb is what did me in. You step out of the spotlight for a minute, it might as well be a year. And it seemed like everyone had forgotten who I used to be. Just couldn't get back in the door affter the bomb slammed it on me." The man lowers his head. "Tic is the best." He gives a light shrug.
Taking another gulp he goes to screw the cap back on the bottle. "So tell me about yourself, K. You know all about me.. What's happened behind them beautiful brown eyes."
They roll upward to look at the ceiling as she actually smiles widely and shakes her head a little. "What you see is what you get," Kristen utters, glancing back down at him. She's unable to keep the smile off her face and actually lets out a small laugh. "I work." There's a long pause as she crosses the room again to retake her seat. "Sometimes I have a quiet drink." Another small laugh as she regards Smoov again. "But mostly I work."
"Y'sound very boring." Smoov lets out with a light chuckle. He shakes his head. "Y've got to give me something, here. Y'always work. What kind of things do you like?" He gives a light roll of his shoulders. "Something obscure that I can remember after I make you mad for the first time and surprise you with so you don't try t'fire me."
A faint blanche of olive skin has Kristen trying to hide her secret by turning her head just a little bit and muttering into her palm. Assuming he heard what she said, she continues. "If it ever got out, I'd be ruined. It's bad enough that Dirk knows." Pushing herself to a stand again, she holds a hand toward him as it to shake. "You don't have to worry about me firing you for making me mad. Get ratings and show up when you're supposed to, that's all I ask."
Standing up, Smoov splays out his hand, the waterbottle spinning in the flat of his palm easily. "If you're going to play that way, y'can go ahead den. But I'll find you out Miss R." The Jamaican accent leaning heavily on the last letter. The bottle is tossed to the other hand easily, taking her hand he spins it over gently bending down swiftly to kiss the back of her hand gently.
Releasing he gives a light smile before turning and making his way out of the office. "Have a lovely evenin' Miss R."
"You too Mister C," Kristen's eyes don't stray from Smoov until the door closes behind him, then she turns and rounds the desk.
Five minutes later… outside of K's office, Dirk is filing his nails at his desk when his phone rings. "Yessss ma capitaine?" The cheerful epxression on his face falls and he actually pales and trembles. "Please K, no. Anything but that… please? I'll — I'll give up the scooter, the trike, the quad, the segway please don't make me do this… Please?"
