I was a big-time director filming the final scene of this movie I wrote called Zombie Picnic, which took place at Bath Nature Preserve in Bath, Ohio.
It was a five-minute, unedited pan of the zombie picnic.
Basically, the zombies won and took over the town of Bath. To celebrate, they were, unintentionally, having a picnic and feasting on all of the humans at the nature preserve.
Picture this: Body parts being ripped apart. Blood flying everywhere. Zombies fighting over scraps of human brains. Humans screaming in agony.
Not tooting my own horn, but - with the sunset coming through the lens followed by the colorful flowers, picnic tables, soccer fields and the playground mixed in with the macabre imagery - it was a beautiful shot.
But something always went wrong. Some zombie extra would sneeze. A key actor would accidentally look at the camera. The boom mic would get into the camera shot.
We must have gone through the shot 10 times. And I was staring to get pissed.
In any event, we had one more shot before the sun finally set. I grabbed a megaphone from my assistant and yelled to the cast and crew.
"This is the final fucking shot,"I screamed. "Everyone better be on their A-game on this one or your all fucking fired!"
"YOU UNDERSTAND ME MOTHER FUCKERS!!!" I walked over to the cinematographer and grabbed the camera. "I'm shooting this one."
"ACTION!"
We filmed the five-minute shot to perfection. Every actor hit their cues. The blood spurted at the exact moment I wanted to. Zombies dug their teeth into the mayor's brain on cue. In short, the shot turned out beautifully.
"Cut," I yelled. "Good job everyone. That's a wrap. Go home." Everyone let out a cheer and started to leave the set.
Suddenly, my producer came running over to me.
"We didn't get the shot," he said patting me back. "Sorry."
"What," I screamed. "Why not?"
He pointed down to the camera I had in my hand. But it wasn't a camera at all. It was a severed head with a worm squirting out of one of the eye sockets.
I was filming the final scene with a zombie head.
"Fuck," I said. "Isn't there someway we can hook up wire to its brain so we can get the imagery?"
"I don't think so, sir" My producer siad. "Nothiing like that has been invented yet?"
"Goddammit," I screamed as I threw the severed head into the woods walked over to my trailer and did two lines of coke.
Then I woke up.
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