Community Players

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Read and find out, "Who's Zoomin' who" in the Community Players? It's hot in the city, hot in the city once more and the Community Players are hard at it again (some harder than others) rehearsing for their yearly summer musical. If you've ever wondered what kind of work and fun goes into doing a play here's your chance. Along the way get to know the talented players and what they each do best, behind the curtains and on the stage that results in the those wonderfull shows, So step right up and read all about it. I'm sure you'll enjoy the experience!

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Chapter 1: Act One Scene One

Thursday, May 29, 7 PM

SETTING: Harborpoint High School Auditorium.

CHARACTERS: Woody Yoblik, Mercedes Sewell, Tom Brown, uncredited actors and fake Marilyn Monroe actress.

“Next please,” said the Director, Woody Yoblick, making a few scratches in the notebook in his lap. He was sitting in semi-darkness, surrounded by empty red leather Auditorium seats at the back of the theatre, and his face was not visible to the woman below, auditioning for the local theater’s summer musical. She knew of him, though, and could picture his face, surrounded by his glossy black wavy hair, looking down at her.

It was a face that made many a pregnant woman glad that the old fashioned method of using forceps to pull infants from the birth canal during difficult deliveries was no longer in fashion. At least, that was the gossip explaining the forty-five-year old’s lopsided asymmetrically shaped face that could not be concealed by a haircut or brought into balance even by the large beautifully round, deep brown eyes of its owner.

She did not expect to be cast in a female leading role, but Woody insisted everyone audition, bit players and leads alike. Some people auditioned just to meet him. He was a well-known local character that a fascinated community loved to gossip about.

The woman on stage below him stopped singing and slowly walked out of the circle of light shining onto center stage and faded into the darkness surrounding the stairs. He listened to the off-stage voice of Tom Brown, his stage manager, ushering on the next hopeful contender. In Woody’s book; Tom was tall, probably five feet twelve. Normally, Woody wouldn’t work so closely with someone who would tower over him, but Tom was an exception. He was an easy-going, laid-back, twenty-nine-year-old who never challenged Woody’s position of director; or his self-appointed role of mentor to him.

As he waited for the next person auditioning to come on stage, Woody wrote by the glow of the exit sign behind him and the light rising from the stage below him. It was just enough to see the lines on the paper and to write down his opinion of each of the tryouts; the eager, stage-struck members of the Harborpoint Community, who came in all ages, sizes, and shapes. Some came with experience, others with only the expectations of the experience to come.

There were the familiar faces and the new. Of all, only one was considered talented enough by Woody to sing the role of Eliza Doolittle in this summer’s Harborpoint Community Player’s production of ‘My fair Lady.’

He focused on the next character sheet in his lap. A quick glance at her list of past experiences and talents confirmed his low expectations. Glancing back down at the stage he found her nervously awaiting his signal to start the audition, so with a half-hearted wave of his hand and a gruff, “Go ahead,” he motioned her to begin.

“Happy Birthday to you,” she began with a squeak. She stopped, took a deep breath to calm herself and began again; this time in an appropriately husky imitation of the late actress, Marilyn Monroe.

Woody remained unimpressed. He lowered his stocky five foot seven inch frame even lower into the seat and tried to concentrate. “She might do well in the Flower Girl Chorus,” he thought to himself.

He started to imagine the Flower Girl Scene in Act Two and considered how many actresses he would need. He pictured them arranging their flowers and then one of them began to seductively murmur his name. With a start, he realized the imaginary voice had materialized two slim tanned hands that were tousling his dark brown hair. This was no imaginary flower girl! A glint of anticipation replaced the sleepy look of a moment ago.

“Hi Mercedes,” he whispered clasping her hands in his and once again shouting, “Next please.” The skinny faux Marilyn Monroe exited off stage just like all the rest who had auditioned before her.

“That’s it, Woody,” said Tom walking into the spotlight on the Stage’s apron. He was wearing a short sleeve crew neck shirt and blue jeans, his normal style of dress when he wasn’t teaching sixth-grade math at Harborpoint Elementary School.

“Good. Let’s close up shop Tom. I’ll call you tonight at home with the names for tomorrow’s call backs.”

“I’ll lock up,” said Tom heading back stage.

“Don’t bother. I’ll do it. See you later.” Woody was impatient for his Stage Manager to leave.

“Okay,” replied Tom with a shrug as he jumped off stage on his way out. The change in plans didn’t bother him; it just meant he would get home sooner tonight.

“Woody,” repeated the dark haired woman still fondling his hair.

Woody turned in his chair, pulling her into his arms as he did so. “Yes Mercedes,” he murmured while gently kissing her lips.

“How did auditions go?” She swung her legs up and over the side of the seat and draped them across the neighboring seat, causing her skirt to hike up and expose her thigh. She tipped back her head, letting her waist length hair cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. It was a beautiful mixture of auburn and mahogany, a combination that most men found mesmerizing. She snuggled up against his shoulder and waited for him to answer her question.

“Just fine,” was his throaty reply. “I have most of the roles cast in my mind and I’ll decide tomorrow at call backs.” With a final caress of her hair, he stood up and set her on her feet. Looking down at her he said, “Come on young lady. I have to lock up.”

“Who do you have in mind for Eliza?” Mercedes asked intently as she followed him down the stairs towards the stage. She had been one of the first to audition that night and had come back at the end to see if she’d landed the female lead.

A small secretive smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. ’I knew she would get around to that,’ he thought smugly. “Time for a little fun,” he murmured under his breath.

Out loud to her, he said, “I don’t know for sure. There are a couple of good possibilities.”

“Anyone I know,” she asked slyly as she took his hand in hers just as he started up the lighting booth stairs.

“Maybe,” he said and stopped long enough to smile down at her before freeing his hand and continuing up the stairs. He could hear the click of her heels following behind him. He knew how to handle Mercedes Sewell.

Mercedes was twenty-eight, ambitious and displayed a figure on the full but sensuous side; something Woody liked in a woman, especially if she had a spirit to match, which Mercedes definitely did!

She was in the habit of going full speed ahead towards whatever she wanted. This habit gave her such an overpowering presence, that if asked to guess her height, many people would not guess the five feet two inches she really was, but something closer to Super Model height. Of course, never being caught in anything but mega high heels had something to do with it too!

Woody crossed over to the light board and began throwing switches to off, one by one.

“Woody, you know I want that role,” she whispered seductively, the scent of her musk perfume surrounding him as her hips brushed up against his.

“I know,” he said controlling his arousal as he threw the last light switch; leaving just the dim light from the exit and fire extinguisher locator signs. He turned to face her in the amber glow they made.

“Mercy,” he called her by her pet name. Only close friends and family used it to her face. “I’m not sure you would be able to show certain aspects of Eliza that are necessary. Like the ‘Kiss Me’ scene with Freddy for example,” he taunted, gazing down into her brown eyes.

Even in high heels, she was shorter than him. Another thing Woody found desirable in a woman. ’I know just what she’s thinking now,’ he thought to himself. ’She thinks she’s going to seduce me with her short skirt and pouting lips.’ There was a smile on his lips as they came down on hers.

He could feel her fingernails through his shirt as they began to run down his spine. ’This is what I call auditioning an actress;’ he thought to himself and slid his hands down over her shoulders, pulling her closer.

“Maybe,” she whispered beneath his lips, “I could help you decide if I have all the aspects,” she shifted in his arms, bringing her breasts level with his hands at her shoulders, “necessary to do the ‘Kiss Me’ number.” She finished with a nip on his lower lip. ’

I know you can,’ he thought, ’but I’ll let you think I need convincing.’

“Well maybe,” he said, “I could give you a second audition.” He began to slowly back her onto the roll-a-way bed kept in the lighting booth for catnaps by the lighting crew. He had just cleaned it off this morning, a premonition you might say.

“I’d like that,” she said smiling as she sat down.

“I thought you might,” he said while watching her lay down on the bed, carefully placing a foot at each corner. He bent over her, slowly running his hand up her right leg until he reached her panties. They were soft and silky, and very warm.

He sat next to her on the bed and studied her face as he slipped two fingers underneath their edge and stroked the smooth skin beneath. She closed her eyes and smiled. Bending his head, he brushed her eyelids with his lips.

“Unbutton your blouse,” he told her in a commanding voice.

Without opening her eyes she complied and then asked expectantly, “Anything else you’d like me to do?”

“Take it off.”

Taking the hem of her blouse in both hands she arched her back and slipped it up past her shoulders, her head, then holding it high, let it drop to the floor.

“I like the black lace bra,” he murmured appreciably as he gazed down at her. Her chest was rising more rapidly now and her nipples were puckered up, just waiting for the touch of his hands. He reached for the front clasp and slowly undid it.

Mercy opened her eyes and watched him. ’It’s working,’ she thought through her hot haze. ’I’ll get him to cast me as Eliza.’ She caught her breath as his teeth started to nibble at her nipples and she felt her breasts get firm in their excitement.

“Go on,” she gasped. “Harder.” His teeth nipped harder and she arched her back, bring her breasts closer to his mouth. “That’s it Woody,” she moaned in her excitement.

Then she felt his hands trail down her stomach to her skirt and pull it up. The calluses on his hand rubbed her skin and made it tingle as his forefinger found her hot spot and began to rub it gently.

“More,” she barely managed to whisper as she became immersed in her body’s warmth. “Don’t stop!” She commanded him as his fingers slowed their circular rubbings.

“What would you do to keep me doing it?” He whispered.

She realized he had stopped. Focusing her eyes she looked into his. “What do you want?”

“Maybe a little rubbing for myself,” he suggested and stood up and began taking off his jeans.

Mercy watched with interest. It was always exciting to see a man’s penis for the first time. They all looked different in slight ways, she thought it must have something to do with the way each man carried himself. Woody’s was built no differently than the others but it struck her as slightly shorter and thicker around, a good one she thought and reached out to touch it.

“Are you trying to shake hands,” he joked as he straddled her on the bed.

’This is going to be good,’ she thought as she lay back once more and let Woody start fondling her breasts.

“What are you smiling about?” He asked catching sight of her expression.

“You,” she said looking at him, “I was just thinking what a good lover you’ll be.”

“Remember,” Woody said in a satirical voice, “it’s your audition. What are you going to do to convince me you, would be better than, Pearl?” Woody pronounced the name of Mercy’s rival with reverence. As expected, she reacted to the name like a flame would to gasoline.

“Pearl Prince, that jerk!” She shouted and shoved Woody off her and jumped off the narrow bed. She stood over him and yelled down at him. “How could you, ever consider her for a moment, instead of me?!” She thrust her thumb towards her chest.

“Well …” answered Woody, taking the time to admire the sight of her loose breasts jiggling in agitation, “her tits certainly aren’t as good.”

“Right!” Mercy agreed in a ’see what I mean′ tone of voice. Then realizing how she looked, she brought her hands up to her chest in consternation.

“Now that I’m comfortable,” said Woody from his position lying on the bed, in Mercy’s recently vacated spot; “perhaps we could get back to our audition. Show me how you think Eliza would comfort Freddy, just back from a long day’s work.” He concluded smugly.

“You male chauvinist pig!” Mercy shouted. “I’ll show you how I would comfort him!” She moved angrily towards Woody lying on the cot.

“Shush,” said Woody with his finger to his lips. “You wouldn’t want a janitor to come up to see what all the noise was about, would you?”

“You wouldn’t want that either, would you,” responded Mercy moving to pick up her bra and blouse.

Woody jumped up and grabbed her hands, pulling her close to him. “See what I mean about you not being able to play the role of Eliza.”

Mercy stood and looked up at him. She could feel his erection pressing against her abdomen. His rough shirt rubbed her naked breasts and she felt herself responding to his charisma. “I forgot I was auditioning,” she murmured in her coy voice.’

I have to get him back,’ she thought to herself as she looked up at him through lowered eyelashes. ’I almost had him and can again, and I will have that role,’ she told herself with determination.

Seeing that he had her interest again, Woody spoke in his director’s tone of voice. “We’ll take it where we left off,” he said with a smile and slowly backed her onto the bed again.

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