It was a mid afternoon call time, he got the part. It was a simple read but it was good news for the shifter’s three pronged plan to become famous in the states. He already had the music part down, next step was acting, then there was something else he couldn’t remember at the time but it all lead to profit! Sure, having a job with SUPER was great. He’d had even been moonlighting with the X-men helping them on various jobs they had across the states. Money was good but he knew all too well how quickly it all went away.

He was chewing an everything bagel as he entered the room with a mug of coffee in hand, ”’fternoon all! The star has arrived!” the bravado and mock bow he added to it was to let everyone know he was joking but he did have the lead role, well one of them.

“Hey....” a tired looking woman with a headset looked at her sheet of papers then back up to Carrick, “...Carrick?” she looked down again at the sheet and then pointed him to a spot in the room. “You read your lines before right?”

”That’s not how me process works. See I get inside ta me characters mind, his psyche. What makes ‘em tick what are his hopes and dreams and...” Carrick trailed off as he hand went up. “It’s a pizza commercial. Did you or did you not? I got four more commercials to film after this.” her question was direct and Carrick responded in kind, ”Yes.” he took another bite of his bagel and then looked around for his scene partner.

Her aunt was a wealthy woman, and Lenna herself was heiress to the wealth of this world’s version of herself (now deceased). It would have been easy to turn that money into connections, and jumpstart some sort of acting career. The wealthy do such things all the time. With acting, with music, with sports… as long as they had at least some talent. This specific scenario was not because of any such endeavors.

Lenna did not actively seek attention. She did not request her aunt help her become a “star”. The girl did not have any goals to be rich and famous. She had merely… gone for coffee. And maybe a bagel. Or a donut. Someone in line had “discovered” her. Interrupted, and told her that they thought she had the perfect face for a role. They told her if the job went well, it could potentially turn into further jobs, future work, and was she represented yet? Because they could certainly do the work, if it had not yet been taken. That was how she met her current “agent”, Beverly Switzler. No relation to the singer from the band, Cherry Bomb, she had been assured. The woman told her Lenna was lucky she wasn not some creep picking up girls and telling them they would be stars. This was a wholly innocent event.

Okay.

It had been a pizza commercial. Nothing fancy. She had read lines. There were lines. They were about pizza. It was not the script for a movie or anything. Money was not an issue for her, but more is always better. So… she showed up.

They had her dressed better than she had ever been dressed in her life. Costuming had made certain that all her clothing matched, and made sense together. it was an outfit some might even seem “cute.” Light blue skirt, tall white knee socks, white shirt, with a light jacket. Little ball-shaped earrings. Nice shoes. Her hair had been seen to, her face made up like the ways she never did. She looked nice.

The place supplied both bagel and coffee. Lenna was just taking a bite when the person she assumed would work with her as costar walked in. She assumed this because he made his presence known for the whole room. And also, she knew him. Lenna chewed, and chewed that over, as he was chewed out.

Carrick. They had trained together, gone to Atlantis together, fought together at the battle for the mansion, but she knew him very little. She finished her bagel, then looked to him.

”Behind you. Squirrel.” She said, without inflection.

She remembered how he liked to chase squirrels, from training. Would the comment get a rise from him? What was professional behavior again?

”No.... hmmmm...” he said musing on his own accent work and how he should deliver the lines with the best effort he could give. A rare feeling for the shifter. Normally he was perfect with just coasting by but this was important to him, to his future. Sure, he had the princess now but what if she was going to be queen? Could she take him with her? What would his status be? If he was internationally famous it be a lot better with his chances than what he was now. A runaway, a thief, the bastard son of a international terrorist. Didn’t give him as much hope as this did.

>>>”Behind you. Squirrel.”

The voice was familiar but he didn’t bother looking for the source. His train of thought derailed, and his pupils opened as he turned on his heel and looked around for said squirrel. Should he pounce on it? He wasn’t hungry, maybe just let it know that it only lives because he is so benevolent? He started purring at the idea, his tail flicked revealing just how far he was down the rabbit hole looking for the prey.

They were inside. There was no squirrel. ”Aww come’on! That wasn’t nice!” he said trying to snap himself out of it by slapping himself on the cheek with his free hand. Turning back he spotted the source of the distraction. Lenna. ”What’re you doing her love?” he asked squinting at her. Was she his page? Was she meant to find him script revisions and bring coffee? He was about to ask but recalled what she could do with a knife and decided against it. He didn’t want to be all bloodied for the shoot. Unless.... was that what they wanted?

”Here ta watch me big break?” he asked grinning from ear to ear flashing his pointed canines in a cheery smile. ”I’m the lead! Just waiting fer me scene partner!” he said looking around.

>> ”Aww come’on! That wasn’t nice!”

Lenna smiled thinly.

”Neither is eating squirrels.” She quipped.

He smacked his cheek, then turned to her and asked what she was going here.
He looked like he had more to say? And thought better of it. She eyed him, carefully. Like how he would eye a squirrel? No. No hunger in her eyes.

He kept talking after a second. Full of self worth and bravado. Braggadocio. He looked around for his scene partner.

Lenna put on airs, strutted around, and recited her lines in an absolutely flawless American accent. She had been working very hard on such a thing.

”I’m soooo hungry. What do we eat, what do we eat?!” She drawled. Then looked to him.

That was the cue for his line. He would speak, then the comical puppet pizzas would appear on the screen to scream about the pizza place/brand in question, and all would be well in the world.

Did pizza places even have commercials any more? This seemed dated, maybe ‘pizza, the Hutt’ might. Or ‘it is not delivery, it is D’evilry’, the one frozen pizza brand. But… what did she know. She could count the amount of television she watched during her free time on one closed hand.

”I have a hunger a hamburger just won’t stop. I need more pizza,” She purred ravenously.

>>>”I’m soooo hungry. What do we eat, what do we eat?!”

There was a pause and Carrick looked to his half eaten bagel and offered it up reluctantly. The fact that she was reading her lines to set him up for his own was lost on the shifter. Wait... where did her accent go? The new accent would have passed his standards for an American. Wait wasn’t she from?

The light bulb in Carrick’s mind flickered to life after a few more seconds. The realization couldn’t be clearer to anyone watching. The Irishman didn’t even need to clear his throat for his own accent to be gone. A convincing New York accent formed as he recited his own lines. ”Honey, you really got to ask? We got the best pizza in the city right around the corner!”

>>>”I have a hunger a hamburger just won’t stop. I need more pizza,”

”Don’t bother with burgers when Pizza is a phone call away!” there was a pause and Carrick looked to his hand that smeared ink on it due to the warm bagel he had been holding since he wrote the lines. Squinting he added, ”Can we get the stuffed crust?”

Looking back to Lenna he smirked. ”Not bad love. Accent work is better than I was expecting.”

He held up the bagel. The bagel he was eating?! Yah, that bagel. She kept up her poker face, and let the hamsters in his head get their morning exercise. They got tired, eventually. And clambered off.

He did his lines. He was not actually terrible. She fed him more lines, and he did his reply.

God, the script was like, good or something!

Were they actually good?!

>> ”Not bad love. Accent work is better than I was expecting.” Carrick said.

”Yah, you were not that bad yourself. The accent is accurate. Good job”. She gave the Thumbs Up! Her accent was back. She only kept it for the lines.

Now, who did they have to kill to get a director on the scene so they could knock this one out of the park?

A bugsy man with thick glasses stepped out from the shadows. He was practically buzzing with excitement as he pushed his frames up with the heel of his hand, and cleared his throat. The voice he had started with his nose, and just kept going from there.

“Verrry goood. You seem to have been,” he eyed them for emphasis she really did not think needed any placement. “Prac-tiss-ing.”

”Are you the director?” Lenna asked.

“Lenny Kravitsch,” he said. As if that answered anything.

He got the thumbs up from her. She approved of his accent work. As she should, Carrick had spent years working on them when he was a kid in the circus to pass the time. It also helped with his pickpocketing. You bump into someone with a foreign accent it’s easier to remember. Well if said person ignored the wings and tail he often had on him. Which few did.

Stranger danger.

Carrick eyed the man speaking and thought he was looking at bug pretending to be human. From the looks to the sound of his voice to how he was speaking. There was a tingle in the back of his mind that told him to be careful. This man could make or break his career.

”Theeeee Lenny Kravitsch?” Carrick said adding emphasis. He had no idea who this man or bug man was but knew how to flatter someone who was in charge. ”Len, theeee Lenny Kravitsch!” Carrick mocked a bow he did when he was greeting his royal girlfriend. ”Truely an honor ta be working on one of yer projects! And we-” he pointed to Lenna and then himself ”just have chemistry.”

”Any notes? Want us ta take it back from the top? I can go extra if ya need. Maybe an accent from Texas? South Boston? Brooklyn?”

Her head bobbled this way and that. To the man, to the boy. To the man. To the boy. Like a bobble head doll.

Len. Lenny. Lenna. Theeeeee. So much accentuating, so much importance, so much she was entirely missing because her up-to-dateness on American pop culture was sorely lacking.

Was he important? This was his name? Was he the director. Carrick seemed to be indicating he WAS of importance. Or maybe, he was just acting like a piece of pig meat. Ham? No, wait. Pork butt.

Lenna liked pork butt. Marinated properly, with some adobo spices, or maybe some carnitas. Or slow-roasted, maybe with barbecue. Smoked? One could work the butt in many ways. Brown sugar garlic butter… her eyes glazed over for a second and she lost the thread of conversation going on as she realized she was hungry.

Her mind tuned back in just as Carrick was insisting he could be extra. Yeah, for reaalll though. And also, Texan? Hrm. Probably not.

”No cowboys.” Lenna made a face. ”I could simply not control myself.”

Lenny latched onto that, like she had been telling him an important secret, like ‘not being able to control’ herself were a good thing. But no, it was opposite. She did not think she could stop a hand from hitting someone’s face if they started chatting her up with a Texan drawl. Bad ex, worse breakup. Yet here Lenny was, practically bubbling over, hugely insisting to Carrick.

“Ohhh, oh yes! Texan! You can do southern? Verrry niiice! Can you ride a horse, young man? A horrrssse! Not that we’re doing that for the commercial, this is pizza, but I do love a good horse ride, and—“

Lenna ROLLED both her eyes. Both of them. In her face. In her head.

Oh, to have wings so she could fly away. From. This.

”I did not mean…” She seethed. Turning to Carrick, she looked him dead in the eye. She felt pretty dead about the situation. ”Do your Boston. Show him. Quick. A distraction.” she said.

”I know Len, ya do love a good Texan.” Carrick then went into his best Ranger impersonation while talking to a female witness. ”Ma’am” he winked then tapped the brim of a hat that wasn’t there. He had seen and heard it enough to have perfected the drawl.

”And can I ride a horse?” Carrick asked chuckling, ”Mate, I grew up in the circus! I can ride anything!” he said with a flourish of his wings and a little bow. Driving was a different matter. Carrick was oblivious to what Kravitch was implying. He thought the man meant more roles.

>>>”Do your Boston. Show him. Quick. A distraction.”

With the hope of more exposure and Lenna encouraging the con-man donned his next accent. ”Ya eveaaaa ‘aaave trouble finding your c‘aaaaar keys? Only to find out ya locked them in the c‘aaaaar?” he might have stolen that line from a comedian somewhere but that was how he practiced his accent work. ”Last week I went fer a jog in the paaark only ta remember I can fly. Thinking ta myself what’re doing here? Come on Caaaaarick! Ya know? What’re gonna do?” it was clear it was practiced and semi decent. He had spent a lot of time in Boston. Everyone there always loved an Irishman.

”Can juggle, flips, walk on my hands.” he said grinning before reverting back to his normal accent, ”I can sing, write me own music and tell jokes. Some could say I was made fer this.” he said honestly before turning to Lenna again and whispering ”It’s Kravitch.” as if it was some kind of big deal. A deal the likes of which would put a spotlight on him and help catch his big break.

Carrick had even done a Texas accent. Ugh! Why was it good?!

Reminded her of Mike Hunter. And power rangers. And vampires.

Carrick, meanwhile, was chatting up the director and going on about riding anything. She would not comment. Did he not have a girlfriend from the sea?

Her blush did not coincide with the Boston accent. Also a good one, why was it good?! The director was eating it up.

Carrick was multitalented.

He turned to her after his list of traits. Was she too list her own in order to now also impress? Very well. She counted them off on hands.

” I also can juggle. Knives, mostly. I am acrobatic. I can flip and stand on hands and walk tightropes and fly. Telekinesis for both those last two. She went on. ”I can shoot guns very well. Hit distant targets. I know Krav Maga, and—“

Kravitsch paused them. “I’m gonna stop you there! You two are simply too talented! I could eat you all up! Let’s do it! Let’s do all of it,” He said hungrily. His mandibles were drooling.

What followed was the biggest rewrite in pizza commercial history. They got them doing tricks, making shots, throwing knives, at each other, juggling, you name it. The script didn’t melt, but it was close. It read them. Then it was time to act it out.

Cameras rolled.