SD Gundam Fan Fiction ❯ Lights, Camera, Zako! ❯ Plotholes ( Chapter 6 )

After a long and arduous casting session, the people to play the characters of Blazing Samurai were selected. The very next morning, cast and crew alike met in that same warehouse.

“And now,” Captain said, “Here is the director of Blazing Samurai, Mr. Bob Djinito.”

Bob stepped forward, no longer in his fedora and trenchcoat look, having traded it for a beret and riding pants combo, complete with a sweater vest and riding crop.

“Now that I have your attention,” Bob said, speaking in a European accent, “I vill now descrrrribe the plot for Blazing Samurai.”

Over to the side, Shute whispered to Rele, “What's with this guy? Last week he sounded like he was from the Bronx.”

“The plot ish verrrry simple,” Bob began, taking care to roll the Rs in his words. “The Samurai has just lost his homeland to an invading forrrce.”

“That sounds familiar.” Bakunetsumaru commented to Zero.

“Lost, he drrrrifts to a new city to start anew.” Bob continued, “After he adjust to life in this new metropolis, the same forrrce that destrrroyed his home attacks the city, and he is forrrced into the fight again.”

“Really familiar.” Zero agreed.

“Now, everyone grab a script from the table,” Bob said, tossing his outfit and accent aside(He was wearing his usual garb underneath). “We start as soon as everything's set up.”

And so everyone took a script from the table, each one labeled, BLAZING SAMURAI. Reading one, Shute noticed something weird.

“Hey, Bob, what's with this script?” Shute asked, confused. “Almost every word is misspelled!”

“Huh?” Bob took a look and Shute's script and shrugged. “Huh. That's one of the beta scripts, how'd that get in the pile?”

“Beta?” Shute didn't understand.

“Lemme explain.” Bob began to move and motioned for Shute to follow. They left the building and walked down the street.

“Sometimes, whenever I have the plot for a great show thought out, I have trouble hammering out the details. To help with that, I have a team of writing specialists ready at my command.”

Stopping at small building, Bob and Shute entered. Inside, Shute saw…

“Monkeys!?” Shute cried, sweatdroping.

At least a few dozen chimpanzees chained to a few dozen old-fashioned typewriters. Paper, ink jars, and spare parts were thrown through the air on occasion.

“It takes a while for them to come up with something worthwhile,” Bob said, tilting his head to avoid a banana peel thrown in his direction, “But you should see what these guys can do with Shakespear!”