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That's a Wrap!

Part 6

For DuskCypher

By Draconicon

Well, that could have gone better...

Johnny shook his head as he walked out of Maurice's office. The hamster was blowing the whole thing out of proportion, he was sure, but at the same time, he would toe the line. If there was one thing that the whinging rodent had right, it was that other studios wouldn't take him seriously if he was always getting laid with the other people in the studio, or showing off for the cameras.

Hot as it was, he needed to get that in order. The Devil May Care series wouldn't last forever, and he'd need something to transfer with. References wouldn't always be enough, as the Hollywood scene had confirmed over and over again.

But at least he still had a job, and he hadn't been fired over the magazines. And he had some free stuff to show off to everyone else. Maybe the other guys would get a kick out of seeing him like that.

And maybe Charlie can tell me what the fuck was up with what happened last night...

The orc looked down at the magazines as he walked towards the cafeteria at the far end of the studio. Yeah, sure, some of the pictures were a little bit crass and crude, but they were shooting a series a hair's-breadth away from being porn. That was part of the job, he thought, and they both got along when they were doing the sex shoots, as well. What the hell was the problem with showing off a little when they weren't on-set?

Hell if he knew. Maybe Charlie could explain the whole mess to him.

He walked into the cafeteria, only to find Charlie sitting at the far end of the room with a face that had chased off anyone else that might have sat at his table. The black cat fixed him with the same glare, and even Johnny had to admit that he would have rather sat anywhere else than next to that man at that point. He slowly edged towards the food collection line, getting a burger while carefully avoiding staring too much at the feline. Charlie must have just come off some shoot or other, because he was wrapped up in a bathrobe and showing nothing, and he was munching ever so silently, ever so angrily.

What the hell is going on with him?

There was no clear answer, and no matter how much he thought about what happened the night before, he couldn't think of any clear answer there, either. Sure, he'd been a little forward in the bathroom - okay, maybe more than a little forward - but they'd done worse than that around the studio. Charlie couldn't be that mad about that, could he?

Well, there was one person that would know for sure.

The dark-skinned orc made his way from the cash register down to the table that a certain lioness occupied. She was staring into her glass, probably trying to kill off whatever hangover she had from the night before. She had his sympathy, for sure; she had been putting them away like nobody else even before he'd left, and there was no way in hell that she hadn't continued afterward.

That's a woman that's going to have some liver problems...

But at the very least, she knew Charlie. If anyone could tell him what the fuck was going on, she could.

The Madame narrowed her eyes at the remarkably unhelpful glass of a Bloody Mary and the Panadol mixed into it. So much for that being enough for her hangover this morning, and so much for the studio being good enough at keeping up with her vices.

Damn Hannah and her tight-fisted grip on the drugs...

The snow leopard was supposed to be the local dispensary, but apparently, she was under orders to keep a tighter grip on the pills. Something about having too many addicts in the studio going without any sort of accountability at the moment, plus something about a handbag or something like that. Rubbish in her opinion. With her pulling double-duty as both soundtrack writer and actress for the studio, she was pretty sure that she deserved some special treatment.

Sighing, the lioness chugged half the drink right there and then. At least the pepper gave her something to focus on for a few seconds that wasn't the pounding in the back, front, and middle of her head. She grimaced, shaking her head - slowly, of course. She'd had enough hangovers to have trained herself not to give in to the temptation of rapid movements while she was suffering from this.

Then, of course, someone else had to intrude. She saw him coming out of the corner of her eye, and she sighed into her glass.

Of course. You.

What was his name again? Jack? John? Johnny? Johnny, that was it. He was the guy that Charlie had been getting it on with on stage more often than the others, and had probably gotten an over-exaggerated idea of his importance.

Well, he can just wait in line.

The Madame curled her tail around her waist as the orc sat down across from her, pretending that he wasn't there for as long as she could. That lasted for all of three seconds before he started talking. Loudly, too, forcing her to pull her ears flat against her skull.

"Hey, what's Charlie's problem?"

"Quiet. Quiet," she muttered.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did we drain a vodka bottle or two?" he asked, still at the same cursed volume.

"Three, plus two tequila."

"...How the hell are you not in the hospital?"

"Practice."

Taking another peppery sip, she held it in her mouth, pressed the tomato juices against her gums, everything to just torment the hell out of her face to get the pain in her skull to go down for a few seconds in comparison. It worked, for a very short amount of time.

"What do you want?" she grumped.

"I want to know what's wrong with Mr. Sour Face over there," the orc said, nodding sideways.

"Same thing that's wrong with him every day, I expect."

"And you know what that is?"

"Obviously."

"Then tell me."

"The fact that you need telling - do you want to confirm all those stereotypes of orcs being that stupid?"

She was a little sharper than normal, she realized, and sighed, rubbing her forehead. Hangover or not, Johnny was a coworker, and he had been making Charlie at least a little happier for a while. He obviously had made some kind of misstep recently -

A blurred memory sharpened, and she groaned, rubbing her forehead. Yep. That would have been the thing.

"Tell you what." She looked up, putting her drink to the side. "Tell you what. You tell me what the hell I did to piss Hannah off, so I can give her some kind of apology, and I'll tell you what you need to know about Charlie."

"She cut you off, huh?"

"Mmm-hmm...And this hangover is killing me..."

Johnny grinned, and the Madame bit off an internal groan. The urge to get what she needed from Hannah had superseded the need to be right about things, but she still wished that she could have lorded this over the orc for a little bit longer. He'd been a cocky little shit around the studio with his role, and she would not have minded sending him to the cleaners for a while, keeping him on the ropes, making him feel a little bit desperate.

Then again, that was probably something to do with the hangover, too, and wanting to spread the misery around. She tapped the table with one finger.

"So? What did I do?"

"You know that trick you've done in the past with your stilettos and the dart board?"

"Of course."

"And how you bet shots that you can make it from one end of the room to the other without missing?"

"Yes?"

"Well...you missed."

"..."

"And managed to hit Hannah's $500 purse."

"...Oh, fuck."

That would explain a lot. No wonder the snow leopard was pissed; she'd been showing that off for the last three weeks, grinning from ear to ear about what she had been able to afford with the rich paychecks that were coming.

She rubbed her forehead, picking up her drink and swirling it around. Well, at least now she knew what she was going to have to apologize for. She had been in the wrong with that one, much as it annoyed her.

Least I have the money to replace it, this time, she thought to herself. Six months back...

Six months back, she'd been one of those losers that pretended that they were something. Now, she was something, and that was all the better for her. She could get what she needed, pay off the mistakes, and...

Well, that was all that needed doing, wasn't it?

"Now, your part of the bargain," Johnny said.

"Right. Charlie."

"Yeah. What's got him so pissed?"

"Two things. Which do you want first, the one you're responsible for, or the one that you're not?"

"...Let's got with the one that I'm responsible for."

"Glad you said that."

She looked at her glass, then slowly pushed it to the side. No more relief was forthcoming from it, she imagined, and she didn't want to be too wobbly as she made her way to Hannah. She didn't want the snow leopard to bilk her out of more than the cost of the purse, that was for sure. That had happened once before while she was 'treating' herself for a prior night's self-abuse, and she didn't want to lose six thousand dollars without thinking about it.

Collecting herself, she glanced over her shoulder. Charlie had already left the room, probably heading to Maurice, if she had any guess in the matter. He'd mentioned wanting to talk to the hamster about something serious, and if it was about what she thought it was about, there was probably going to be a hell of a reshuffling here in the studio before the dust settled. Things were going to get real crazy, real quick.

But most important, he wasn't there to overhear her, and that meant that she could be honest about things.

"Charlie's an anti-exhibitionist."

"What the hell's that mean? He's a prude?"

"Not quite."

"But he's all kinds of -"

"He's doing a job here. Anywhere else, he doesn't want to even think about sex. The more public it is, the more of a turn-off it becomes. He doesn't even want to think about the possibility that someone could see him. Kind of stupid, if you ask me, and he can change if you get him drunk enough, buuuuuuut then comes the self-loathing in the morning." She shrugged. "It's a trade-off. I think it's worth it, but you might think differently."

"...Kind of messed up."

"Tell me about it. He needs to loosen up."

Clearly, that wasn't what Johnny meant, but she shrugged it off, leaning back in her seat. She warmed to her topic and continued.

"See, the more that you give him privacy - and that means serious privacy, like scanning for cameras, all the curtains drawn, etc. - the more frisky he gets. The less that he thinks someone will ever find out what happens, the more of a freak he becomes."

"You're kidding."

"Swear to god, I'm not. Take him to some hotel under anonymous names, pull the curtains shut - hell, paint the windows black - and you'll have the horniest cat that you'll ever see."

"...Seriously?"

"Seriously."

She'd seen it happen twice, and both times she'd been called in by the hotel to get their deposit back and - once - to talk to Charlie and get him to come out rather than keep going. The number of party drugs in that cat's system that night...

Almost makes you wish he was bi, she thought. Not seriously, but some part of her did wonder from time to time what it would be like with a partner like that. Most of her lays weren't nearly that outgoing.

Ah, well. C'est la vie.

"Well...guess that explains why he got so pissed when -"

"When you popped your dick out and threatened him with a good time?" the Madame asked, cocking her head to the side.

"...Oof. You remember that part?"

"I remember some of it. Charging out with the flesh-lance, mostly."

"Oooooh boy."

"Yeah. You didn't see his face. Most people probably wouldn't have guessed, but hoooo boy. He was seething."

"How fucked am I?"

"Pretty darn, if you don't apologize. I'd suggest on your knees."

"..."

"Without opening your mouth for a blowjob."

"Thank you."

"Welcome," she said, shaking her head as she put her hands to the table. "And now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go apologize to Hannah...and see if that'll be enough to get the bitch to open her pharmacy again..."

"Wait."

Johnny grabbed her by the wrist. Normally, she would have ripped the hands off of the person that tried that, but that would have meant moving fast, and that would have made her head feel like hell. Probably like broken glass; felt like that kind of morning.

"What now?" she groaned.

"You said that there were two things."

"Yeah, and the second one's pretty obvious, if you think about it."

"...Let's pretend I'm bad at thinking."

"You are, aren't you?"

"It's an orc thing. We're not that smart when we're horny."

"Or scared?"

"Emotions fuck with our heads."

"Heh."

Tempted as she was to just leave him with that problem, she wasn't that cruel. She glanced over her shoulder, saw that Hannah had just come in for a late breakfast, and supposed she had time. The Madame turned back to the orc.

"He's got a shy dick, remember?"

"Yeah?"

"And he's shooting porn all day." She chuckled. "How much Viagra do you think Maurice and the others have been shoving down his throat?"

The wince that Johnny went through was just as satisfying as any other that she'd seen when a guy got kicked in the balls. Men were so funny; they all had that same sort of wince-clench that they did whenever someone mentioned something painful down there.

But it was the truth, in this case. Charlie had been all but force-fed Viagra since taking the job, giving him hard-ons from Hell that didn't want to go away, and making his cock sore even when he didn't have an erection. He had complained bitterly about that again and again for all his time here, much to her annoyance, and she was quite familiar now with all the pains that he was going through.

She imagined that he would be complaining to anyone that would listen, provided that he trusted them enough. And was drunk enough.

Johnny let her go, and the Madame stretched her neck from side to side, slowly, cracking it as she did. She languidly turned, flicking her tail from side to side.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a cure to fetch."

Charlie had left the cafeteria behind him, and had gone to get dressed. Back in his street clothes, he tucked a folder under his arm, and then proceeded to make his way to the owners' offices at the back of the studio.

One might have assumed that he was going for Maurice, as the hamster was more of a pushover than the lion. However, while he privately thought that Maurice was something of a weak man that had little going for him besides the fact that he was a people pleaser for those that worked under him, he didn't have anything against the hamster. He was trying to make his way in an industry that was bound and determined to crush those that didn't fit with what it wanted of them. He was trying to make something of himself, and that was somewhat admirable, if a little bit naïve.

Henry, on the other hand...

His hands curled into clawed fists as he thought of the scummy things that the elder lion had been doing, and everything that had been done to him as a result. The humiliations that he had only recently been informed of, the extras that had been held back, the little bits and bobs of promises that he could be 'accessed' for a good time...

That brought a growl to his throat. Henry was on the verge of pimping him out, all under the excuse of 'managerial scheduling'. The lion deserved everything that was in the folder and then some, and Charlie was only holding back now on the advice of his lawyers. They had made it clear that this needed to be handled delicately, but if he did it correctly, he'd get everything that he needed to be set for life.

He walked up to the offices and knocked on the door. Henry answered, the lion cocking his head to the side.

"Charlie. What a pleasant surprise."

"We need to talk."

"Oh, I'm sure. Let me just send Eli away."

The bitch-boi. He stepped to the side, allowing some room for the still-dressing rabbit to slide past him and into the studio at large. The sight of that wet patch in the back of the rabbit's pants only served to piss him off further.

"Come in," Henry offered.

"This won't take long."

"Really? What's the matter? Work getting to you?"

"No. But you are."

"...I am, am I?"

There was a subtle shift to Henry's stance, going from somewhat post-sex amiable to the sort of cockiness of someone stepping into an arena that they never lost in. The prize-fighter coming into the ring against the rising star. He knew the feeling, had seen it enough time in the dramas, and had heard about it from the Madame, too. From Johnny, too, when the orc talked about the filming industry in other parts of the world.

Henry had come from that world, and had been part of that scheming, corrupt landscape of people. That was the world that the lion had been part of, and he had been of the upper echelon of them.

Not.

Any.

More.

"And how am I getting to you?" Henry said, his voice syrupy sweet with condescension. "Are the demands on your time getting too much? Or are we loading you down with too much cash for the little that you've done?"

"Cut the crap."

Henry blinked, and no surprise there. He looked like someone that had been slapped. Then again, he imagined that Hollywood agents were a lot more surreptitious around their stars, and the lawyers, too. Charlie held up the folder.

"I'm going to ask you once. Get rid of the tapes -"

"Are you threatening me, Charlie?"

"Get rid of the tapes, stop with the behind-the-scenes bullshit, and leave me the hell out of all your schemes."

"Or what?"

"...That's the thing about working out here, Henry. It's not like Hollywood. Unlike the streets of LA, unlike all the assholes that work out there and respect the slime at the top, out here, we know where slime belongs. And how to get rid of it."

He held up the folder, and Henry seemed to see it for the first time. The black cat pushed it into the lion's arms.

"Consider yourself served."

"...What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Getting a little of my own back."

"This won't fly. We'll crush you."

"You know, I've heard that. But I doubt it."

"We have more money than you."

"And I've already retained the best lawyers in the city. Good luck."

There was something about having the money to fuck up other people that made one a little cockier than, perhaps, they should have been. At the same time, he felt that this was a long time coming. Henry had clearly been the one to rule the roost for too long, becoming cocky, overconfident, rougher than he needed to be to keep his position. Now, he had to defend it, and he would find that far harder than he probably expected.

Breach of contract, unfair use of employees, labor act violations, and probably more...

His lawyers were still digging through everything that he had told them, but even with what little they had pulled up so far, they knew that they had an ideal class-action lawsuit that would go for years if it actually went to court. It would force the other side to bill Henry right into oblivion to fight it, too.

"Goodbye, Henry. It's not been a pleasure."

He turned on his heel, walking down the hall of the studio while the lion sputtered, looking down at the folder and going through the papers. They were extensive, Charlie knew. He had read through them himself, ensuring that they were all in order with what little he knew about the law.

Was there any guilt to what he had done? Anything that made him feel off, or wrong, or guilty about stabbing the studio that had made him in the back?

Not really. He had earned some respect, and he was damn well going to use it...elsewhere. He had a feeling that he was going to be suspended without further pay, and that meant that it was time to get out of the studio while the getting was good, before Henry got the idea of calling security and making a show of him being escorted off. That would not play well in court.

The black cat had reached the front doors to the studio when he finally ran into Maurice. The hamster blinked at him. The little guy had probably read something in his face. Charlie tried to steel his expression, but the little guy was already running for him.

"What's going on? Charlie, Charlie! What's going on?"

"I'm making things right."

"Right? What - what did Henry do?"

"Too much." Charlie shook his head. "Talk to him. If you don't make it right, then I'm going forward with this lawsuit."

"L-lawsuit?" Maurice asked, his face paling beneath his fur.

"Yes. Lawsuit."

"We - can't we - you don't want to talk about this."

"No. The time for talk is past."

"...Oh god, he did something really bad this time, didn't he?"

"Yes. Yes, he did."

"Nnnnnnnnnnngh!"

The hamster whimpered, pulling his hands together and wringing them out. Charlie could not care less about all that. All that mattered now was that they had been warned, served, and given due notice. If they wanted to settle, if they wanted to make good, then it was in their hands now. He was going home.

He walked around the whimpering hamster, heading towards the end of the lot. Soon, he was out of the studio and hailing a taxi. He told them to take him to the bank, and then to his apartment. Considering what he'd served the studio with, he had the feeling that he'd need some ready cash in case they did some legal striking-back.

#

Draconicon was in his office, not indulging with his stallion assistant for a change, when Maurice all but broke down the door. The dragon looked up from his notes on the second season, arching an eyebrow.

"Something happen?" he asked.

"How bad is it if we lose Charlie or Henry?" the hamster asked.

"...Bad."

"No, but -"

"Either way, you'll have a different series afterward," the dragon said. "Charlie's half the magic behind the show. He's your star, and there's a reason that you hired him. Anyone else we get will have a different chemistry, even if we somehow found the budget and the legal rights to CGI his likeness on a different actor. The body language would be gone, and so would that grumpiness.

"And if you lose Henry, then you lose that skill. Much as we all hate him - and god, we hate him - he's got the skills and gravitas to pull off a good character. Most of the rest of our cast is little more than a porn actor that's gotten lucky so far."

That wasn't what the hamster wanted to hear, and no mistake. The high-pitched whine that followed, complete with the studio owner clutching the sides of his head, was nearly enough to give the black dragon a headache of his own. He covered his earholes until the whine subsided with Maurice throwing himself into a chair.

"What happened?" Draconicon asked.

"Charlie just served us papers."

"...Us, or Henry?"

"Same difference."

"Not really. If he served them to Henry personally, that means that the lawsuit is limited to what Henry has done, personally. And if I know that lion, it means that he's already looking into ways to prove that he's done this as a favor to the studio, shifting the blame around so that it can't be fought in court." Draconicon shook his head. "And if it's been done to the studio as a whole, then Henry's going to shift it the other way."

"Either way, we're fucked."

"Only if you can't convince Henry to back down."

"Back down? Back down?!" Maurice laughed bitterly. "God, you know how he is. He's convinced that he's God's gift to acting. He thinks that he deserves everything. He'll fight this with everything that he's got, and then tell us that it was all for the best."

The unfortunate thing was, Maurice was right. Draconicon sighed, leaning back in his chair, tapping his fingers against the back of his hands.

If we fight this, then we lose the star. If we don't fight this, then we perhaps go bankrupt, and everyone loses their jobs, because of Henry tying this into the company. If, by some miracle, Henry can be convinced to step back and surrender on this one...

It was the only option that allowed for any chance for The Devil May Care to continue, for FDN to actually stay afloat, and to keep a good reputation - though no longer great one - for the studio. Losing the fight would bankrupt them. Winning the fight would show that they were a studio that mistreated their employees and protected the ones that did the mistreating.

But Maurice was right. Henry was the asshole here, but would never admit it. He would just dig in, like all the stars did, and fight it to his dying breath. There was too much for him to lose out on, and too little attachment to the rest of the studio for him to care about dragging the rest of them down with him.

At least, right now.

If we found a way forward without him...

"Let me make a few calls," the dragon said.

"Not like they'll help us now," Maurice muttered.

"You'd be surprised. I just want to check a couple of things. Those tabloids; when did they come out?"

"...This morning..."

"Right. That should be enough time, then."

"What are you planning?"

"Planning?" The dragon laughed. "Not planning anything. I'm just checking whether something's happened yet."

The hamster fixed him with a nervous stare, but the dragon didn't explain. An idea had struck, and he wanted to see just how much of it was possible. That meant that he had to make a number of phone calls. Likely a number of very expensive phone calls, long-distance being what it was, but hell, if it meant saving the studio...

Maurice left, and the dragon picked up the phone, dialing through an outbound connection service, and then out to Japan. There were a number of people that needed contacting, but he might as well start with the most optimistic one first. Particularly since they'd be willing to pick up the tab.

Ring ring.

Ring ring.

Ring ring.

Click. The dragon smiled.

"Hello. This is FDN, and - no, sorry. Do you have someone that can translate on the line? You do? Thanks. Yes, yes, I'll hold."

Draconicon leaned back in his chair as he waited for the guys on the other end to fetch a translator. This was a bit of a long shot, but it was better than nothing, and if he was right? Well, it wasn't the first time that he had lowered himself to this particular business, and this time, it was for a good cause.

After all, FDN was a good place, provided Maurice was calling the shots rather than Henry...and after all the stuff that they'd gotten with The Devil May Care, it was time for someone else to hold a little leverage...

The End

Summary: Johnny had some bedroom difficulties with Charlie - mostly from having pissed the cat off - and Charlie has plans for Henry...

Tags: No Sex, Cat, Lioness, Orc, Lion, Hamster, Dragon, Studio, Series, Meta, Blackmail, You've Been Served, Argument, Hungover,