…OH HEY! Hi, sorry. We were busy eating Cheetos. Anyway, after the wild popularity of our last behind-the-scenes post, we found some more cutting room footage from ‘The Audition’ that we thought you’d enjoy. So please do enjoy. And drop a comment in the nickel box on your way out.
Sabrina: This guy was great. He was the first, third and seventy-sixth person to answer our ad in Backstage. His reel included a clip from his high school graduation ceremony and two monologues from “The Basketball Diaries.” He wouldn’t eat anything but Cheetos during the shoot.
Kath: I want to lick his teeth. Wait, did I lick his teeth? Was that part of the audition?
Alex: You did and it was. Hey, “Hot Guy” needed to have good dental hygiene – those HD cameras pick up everything! (Except, sadly, for my uncanny resemblance to a young Lee Remick. Where’s THAT footage?)
Sabrina: This is so embarrassing. Alex and I had just challenged Rita Rudner and Wayne Brady to an Improv-off at the neighboring Fat Kids camp. Our singing might have annoyed the crew and gotten us in trouble with the police that night, but man it paid off in Fat Kid trophies that summer! Plus we saved the house, and we get to keep the sailboat!
Alex: That really was a great summer.
Kath: These ladies do not look amused. Was this first dinner at 10pm or second dinner at 3am?
Alex: Who cares? We got beat up both times.
Sabrina: Oh my goodness. Funny story this one. Well, we rented out the “audition room” from this club on the Lower East Side; it was sort of a theme club, if that’s what you would call it. Kind of a futuristic sexy pony jamboree or a glow-in-the dark lacrosse game type thing, I guess.
Alex: Sort of “Rhinestone Cowboy meets TRON” – Le Reow!!
Sabrina: Anyway, our DP ate too many Cheetos at the Kraft Services table and had to go home before we finished the shoot. Luckily, one of the table dancers went to film school and he was able to jump behind the camera for the last few shots! Thanks, Ricky! We owe you big time. xoxox
Sabrina: I have no idea who these people are. Hey! Click on the word Cheetos. Now find the someone you love. Make them click on it too. Now have a conversation! Ha ha ha ha! You’re cooking with sauce! xoxoxo
Kath: I think it should be mentioned that this was taken after an all-night into the wee-morning, “let’s go get brunch since places are now open again” video shoot.
Alex: True. We had just finished filming the big musical finale with Bill Murray (which was cut from the final version due to Kath’s inappropriate hand gestures.) Someone had slipped me some horse steroids to keep me going through multiple takes of the tap dance number, and I was hungry enough to say ANYTHING for some pancakes and a mimosa. (Actually, that’s true even without the horse steroids.)
Sabrina: Two words: Horse Steroid Withdrawal.
Alex: That’s three words.
Sabrina: SHUT UP AND GET ME SOME HORSE STEROIDS!!
…Uh, yeah! Hi again readers. Aren’t you glad we didn’t save those gems for the DVD extras?? Wait don’t answer that.
Toothbrushing, am I right? Who thought of that bullshit? “Hey everyone, let’s scrape hard plastic bristles against our tender pink gums! Poke around in our mouth crevices with teeny tiny spikes! And stinging peppermint disinfectant!!” Sure, the scrubbing may feel good at first. Until you see the blood. In your spit (what the HELL’s it doing there??) In the sink (DITTO!!) All of a sudden brushing seems barbaric, aggressive, violent. Like an unholy congress with a crafty porcupine, jabbing its spines under your gumline like it’s trying to knit a sweater from the leftover spinach stuck there since lunch.
Alright, I concede that I might be exaggerating juuuuust a tetch. It’s just that brushing my teeth has always been one of my least favorite rituals. (That said, I’d like to take the opportunity to reassure anyone reading this that I DO IT REGULARLY, AND WITH VIGOR.)
So before you judge me, and forward me all sorts of links to dental urban legends about “flossing”, hear me out. This morning was different.
This morning I enjoyed the saucy tickle of a new toothbrush that changed my life: so soft, it might as well have been made of chinchilla. Like a minty nuzzle from the Doublemint Twins, it felt like America. Sunshine. Warm laundry. I damn nearly danced out of the bathroom, ready for anything.
Yeah, that’s right: I keep my expectations low. Goal for the day = plaque-free teeth? DONE! What else ya got for me, Universe?? I may be a disappointment to myself, others, and all those who came before me, but I will no longer be held back by the Scylla and Charybdis of diamond-hard bristles and razor-sharp floss. EVERYTHING WILL BE BETTER FROM NOW ON!
Dissolve to: A tree-lined street on a Hollywood backlot. Cue jaunty horns!
I high-step along the street like I’m in a musical with Judy Garland from the 40s. She’s dressed as a friendly Technicolor wino. Judy smells great: a heady mix of Thunderbird and that mush-in-a-bowl the Hare Krishnas give out on Avenue A. She’s missing some teeth but hey – it’s charming, like she lost ‘em playing dice with Mickey Mouse instead of knocked out in a brawl with her dealer over two dollars. We fall into step together and grin, thumbs hooked into our suspenders and faces lifted to the sun. A syncopated bass line plays and we tip our faded, fraying hats to a campy extra who will go on to own an Arthur Murray franchise, then design orthopedic inserts for retired dancers. Our smiles widen, and we break into a song about the three precious teeth we got between us – they bring us luck and we ain’t never lettin’ ‘em go! Never mind the teeth we lost – that’s all in the past and THIS IS SHOWBIZ! Our dental hygiene routine involves a rag, some Old Granddad, and JAZZ.
Seriously though – Celebrities in the ‘40s had the right idea:
- Maintain your dental health through booze (WIN!)
- Turn tooth loss into a hilarious comedy chestnut
- Spend your sunset years hawking denture cream
Truly, it is the American Comedy Dream. And I am living it.