If Edgar Allan Poe had been a studio executive

por Torgo

Once upon a midday dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
O’er the many quaint and curious screenplays piled upon my floor,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my office door.
” ‘Tis some screenwriter,” I muttered, “tapping at my office door;
Only this, and nothing more.”

Yet my business had been slacker since I hired Joel Schumacher
To direct our biggest summer movie of the year before;
And the studio bosses, after it had opened to disaster
Would surely hang me from the rafters if I could not square the score;
Would fire me from the studio if I could not square the score;
Find a hit, or work no more!

Open here I flung the shutter, and I cleared my throat to utter
Greetings to whomever waited in the hall beyond the door.
But my words turned to a groan; for I saw that Sly Stallone
Stood upon my office threshold with his agent, Ms. Lenore;
And he charged right past me followed by his agent, Ms. Lenore;
Like bulls past a matador.

Turning back, I saw them seated; feeling injured and defeated
I approached and wanly greeted them: “Sylvester! Ms. Lenore!
I sincerely hope you’re thriving – had I known you were arriving
I’d have sent out for reviving frappuccinos from the store;
Frappuccinos, danish pastries, and spring water from the store –
Next time, why not call before?”

The actor sat there, massive, with his craggy face impassive,
And it seemed that I’d established neither good will nor rapport.
The signs were not propitious; I thought it certainly suspicious
That he came in train with vicious, feared and cynical Lenore –
Still I leaned across the table and began to speak – “Lenore-”
Quoth the agent: “Rambo IV!”

I staggered back, mind reeling, and with a sick and dizzy feeling
Pulled the bottle of Glentoran from its deep and secret drawer.
As I gulped the spirit gladly, I explained that business, sadly,
Was proceeding rather badly; I’d produce his films no more –
For a hit from Sly Stallone was guaranteed no more –
Quoth the agent: “Rambo IV!”

“Begone!” I cried, upstarting – “And let this word be our parting!
I saw Get Carter, Driven, Daylight – D-Tox!!! What a snore!
Your star has lost its lustre! You can’t open a blockbuster!
Never will the public trust a Rambo movie – nevermore!”
And I hoped to see Stallone and his agent nevermore;
But quoth the agent: “Rambo IV!”

So the agent, never quitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
In my office with a countenance that chills me to the core;
And her eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming
Of the green light for her project, scheming now and ever more!
And so although I know I’m dooming my career for ever more –
I’m producing… Rambo IV!

Autor: rbressane

Writer, journalist, editor

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