The producer cautiously approaches Blaze during his lunch break with a singed hairline and a worried look on his face. After their last encounter, he has learned to maintain a respectable
distance from his latest acquisition.
Standing several feet away, he tells her the studio wants to start making computer-generated action films employing images of dragons instead of continuing with her in the lead role.
She peeks at Cedric out of the corner of her eye, and suddenly displays a toothy grin. Although the dragon has never spoken, the two have carved out a nonverbal way of communicating that for the most part utilizes mutual respect, trust and an understanding of her needs. She nearly sweeps him off his feet as she spreads her bat-like wings, and on four legs ambles into his personal space.
She thinks it may be time to find a movie studio that is more flexible. After all, that can’t be asking too much she tells herself.
“Sorry about being the bearer of bad tidings, but due to budgetary constraints, the studio may have to let you go.” “Too many of our film sets have recently vanished in a puff of smoke, our water bills are enormous, and our insurance premiums are astronomical,” he says as he backs away from her.
Feeling slighted, Blaze flicks her tongue, flares her nostrils, and encircles his body with her scaly red tail. She concludes that it may not be too late for the two to go somewhere, and revisit the rules of engagement. Drawing on the supply of elemental energy that suddenly courses through her vascular system, her wings lift her off the movie set. With the producer in her grasp, she flies towards her lair.
“Ouch, put me down.” “You are being unreasonable.” “Let’s talk about it,” screams the producer flailing his arms while his cries fade into the distance.
Months later, Blaze’s first day on the job goes off without a hitch. But a gofer is not what she had in mind. Cedric promises it is only temporary.
distance from his latest acquisition.
Standing several feet away, he tells her the studio wants to start making computer-generated action films employing images of dragons instead of continuing with her in the lead role.
She peeks at Cedric out of the corner of her eye, and suddenly displays a toothy grin. Although the dragon has never spoken, the two have carved out a nonverbal way of communicating that for the most part utilizes mutual respect, trust and an understanding of her needs. She nearly sweeps him off his feet as she spreads her bat-like wings, and on four legs ambles into his personal space.
She thinks it may be time to find a movie studio that is more flexible. After all, that can’t be asking too much she tells herself.
“Sorry about being the bearer of bad tidings, but due to budgetary constraints, the studio may have to let you go.” “Too many of our film sets have recently vanished in a puff of smoke, our water bills are enormous, and our insurance premiums are astronomical,” he says as he backs away from her.
Feeling slighted, Blaze flicks her tongue, flares her nostrils, and encircles his body with her scaly red tail. She concludes that it may not be too late for the two to go somewhere, and revisit the rules of engagement. Drawing on the supply of elemental energy that suddenly courses through her vascular system, her wings lift her off the movie set. With the producer in her grasp, she flies towards her lair.
“Ouch, put me down.” “You are being unreasonable.” “Let’s talk about it,” screams the producer flailing his arms while his cries fade into the distance.
Months later, Blaze’s first day on the job goes off without a hitch. But a gofer is not what she had in mind. Cedric promises it is only temporary.
