Well, after 2 days, the poll was tied, and I had to make a decision. I could either keep both of my producers or fire T-Bone. After they ditched my meeting yesterday, I thought that if I got rid one one of them, the other producer would be more focused on the film. I was ready to sack T-Bone.
Except they didn't come back.
I waited with the cast for 3 hours in the rain. Jackson was freaking out about his hair getting wet, and Dev's scar makeup was dripping into his mouth. Finally, Noah whispered to me, in his comforting Irish brogue," Ther' not commin' matey". And I knew deep down that he was right.
When I get to me house, I was shocked. The front door was kicked down, and the furniture was overturned and broken. My wallet and check book were gone! When I called the bank, a woman told me that 2 men had withdrawn the remaining 75 million dollars from the TLA budget account. She said that one of them was a handsome white male who looked cool in hats.
So now we have 2,00 dollars to finish the trilogy, we're 2 weeks behind schedule, and we have no producer. I'm f###in depressed you guys.
