*smacks fist into hand* Ah-ha! I think I promised you guys the details on the prophetic dream! Okay, it all started in my Sophomore year...
*fade to white.
...And then one of the lights go out, revealing quite a bit of props and backdrops and what-not.*
DAMMIT PHIL! I thought you replaced that bulb FIVE MINUTES AGO!
*voice from off-screen* Hey, it ain't my fault! Greg's the one that supplies us with this s**t!
*grumble-grumble* ...Ah, nothing to do, then.
[cut to a blue screen with the words "TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES" on it.]
*JonJon's voice* ...Hey, hey... Is the camera running the Techinical Difficulties thing?
*Phil's voice* Yeah... It's cool. We'll have this thing fixed up in a jiffy.
JonJon: Really? Sweet. But what's that curtain hanging in front of the camera?
Phil: Um... That's the technical difficulties screen.
*footsteps, increasing in volume to match an implied decrease in distance from the camera.... Then*
JonJon: What the... It's just a blue bedsheet with "TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES" traced on to it in all caps! We do have a budget for these kind of things you know!
Phil: *dryly* Yeah. And it's $3.48.
JonJon: ...Oh. Well, s**t. Here's that replacement.
Phil: Thanks.
*squeek-squeek-squeek. Then...
the blue screen fades to... um, lighter blue.*
JonJon: Oh, s**t! Take down the TD curtain!
*the curtain peels away from the camera, revealing the whiteness again. The whiteness fades away to reveal a hazy classroom place... The paintjob and brickwalls definitely mark it as a Centrevill classroom, but there aren't any doorways, no windows, no bookcases, no desks... nothing but a long table where everyone who was present at the founding of the anime club is sitting at.
Oh, yeah, and a typewriter.
Everyone appears to be looking at the camera, making the entire thing seem like a first-person narrative.*
JonJon's voice: Wha...? Where...?
Lee: Sit down, JonJon... We're about to start the meeting.
The camera zooms in on the typewriter, then drops a little, as if JonJon had just taken a seat.
Lin: *coughs politely, and squares several sheets of paper that don't appear to have anything sensible written on them* Let the meeting begin. JonJon, you're typing up the minutes.
JonJon's voice: Okay. *hands appear at the typewrite and begin to pound away...
JonJon
Officer's Meeting 001
2:25p.m. - Meeting begins.
*the typewriter made extremely loud clacking noises. Upon further examination, the tw is an antique - old enough to have a QWERTY keyboard, but old enough that creating a new line literally rings a bell. Everyone visibly winces each time JonJon hits "Return"*
Lin: ...Okay. First order of business - our meeting place. Mrs. Johnston's offered...
*she pauses as JonJon begins to type again, clacking noisily...*
JonJon
2:27p.m. - First item is finding a room to meet in.
*Then he hit Return. Everyone shivered a little at the clear ring of the bell*
Lin: ...Anyways... As I was saying... Mrs. Johnston has offered to lend us her room for the club, and-
JonJon
Mrs. Johnston has offered her room for our club.
*Lin had been glaring at JonJon silently as he clacked away at the typewriter again. As JonJon's pinky moved to hit the Return key, however, her eyes flashed.*
Lin: *stands up quickly* DO NOT PRESS THAT BUTTON.
*JonJon freezes, and looks up at Lin like a deer in headlights. Of course, you can't see this, but the viewer can well imagine it. Well, any viewer that knew Lin, at any rate.*
Lin: *with deadly quiet* ...JonJon... ...Type
softer...
JonJon's voice: *panicked* I can't! *hands are thrown up in front of the view, as if JonJon is trying to defend himself from a physical assault. Not that it would have, but the fact that he was reacting as if he was being attacked is an adequate way of teaching freshmen what our first President was like. No George Washington-ism for the new generation!* (still JonJon) It's the typewriter, I swear!
Lin: *less steel now, but still audibly irritated* ...Well,
try. *And with that , she sat down again, smoothing over her blouse and squaring her papers again as if nothing happened.
*And so, the meeting went. Every five minutes or so, Lin had to look back at JonJon to remind him to keep it quite or else. After the seventh time, everyone else had joined in.*
JonJon
...
2:47p.m. - The meeting has become very tense. We are discussing the specifics of game day, and arguments are flaring between the upper and the lower classmen. WHO will survive?
*JonJon's pinky again reached for the Return key in slow motion. A vein ticked in Lin's forehead, then Mari's, then Jon's, and even Lee's. Right as the pinky made touched the surface of the key...*
Everyone: *grow SD angry heads with fangs and a burning backdrop* DON'T HIT ENTER!!!
JonJon's voice: ...Of course, that scared me so much, I woke up at that point.
*fade to black, then to the normal set. JonJon has taken off his eyeglasses and is rubbing his eyes*
JonJon: OW! Phil, how the HELL did you make the entire place fade to black like that? Reading my lines was a real strain on the peepers, even WITH the handy backlight...
Phil: Sorry. And to answer your question, I installed a new light switch last week... One of those nifty lever kinds that let you control the amount of light in a room by adjusting height accordingly.
JonJon: *looks surprised* Really? Then what was that light switch I hit when I entered the set?
[Cut to an empty movie filming set containg a pile of grey Ashes on a set resembling some hill in the middle of nowhere. A nearby chair reads: "Director for Buffy the Vampire Slayer"... Sobbing can be heard from some distant trailers]
JonJon: *shrugs* Meh. Can't have been too important. Anyhoo, folks, that was my dream. It implied two things: ONE, that I was to be secretary of the anime club, and TWO, that my head was STILL ringing from that Orchestra camp I took two years ago. *shakes his head* Christ... I saw it, and I
still don't believe that my instructor made music with a typewriter...
Phil: And that's a wrap!
JonJon: *looks up* Hey, that's my line! I'M the director here! *stalks off-screen*
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