Alicia appears to have developed an unhealthy specialty. You recall how she turned up the next morning with a sheep in the back seat of her car, when the folks running a shoot up in Dutchess County decided that the next scene had to have some woolly livestock in it? I love to tell that story as an example of how clever my baby daughter is, and truth to tell she loves problem solving, but it sounds as if the problems they are giving her on the present shoot are increasingly up the same animal alley.
She came in last night with her usual hey-I’m-home good natured wham bang. So how’d it go, I said. “Great. I scored an ace.” Meaning? “Well I found a dead taxidermy links.” Er, a dead link to taxidermy? “No, no. Lynx.” Oh, yeah, ling cuss, I get it. But you mean, as in stuffed? “Yeah. Taxidermy. But a dead one.” Sorry not getting it. Most stuffed animals are usually dead. You know, normally. “No, most taxidermy makes them look alive. We needed one that looked dead. And I got one. Two hundred bucks. Not bad if I do say.”
Well, a pat on the back for that, I must say it would have left me at a loss. “Yeah, OK, but now I need a deformed chicken.” You joke. “Nope. I called several poultry farms to ask if maybe they had one out back, y’know, in a special pen or something. But they thought I was nuts.” Really? Guess you might try people who keep chickens as pets, but the real problem is that there aren’t that many deformed chickens. What sort of deformity are you looking for actually. “Oh, anything I guess. Two heads would be good.” Could try a little surgery on a normal chicken? “Yecch.” OK, here’s a notion: you know the spur on their leg? “No.” Well, there is one. Drill a little hole through it - it’s just fingernail - and tie some monofilament around the chicken to hold the leg from straightening all the way out. “Won’t it fall down and flop around?” No, you can adjust it so that the chicken just looks kind of impaired and stupid. More stupid than usual. I think that’s all you need. And take off its monofilament when the scene is over. “Cool! Thanks dad.”
I guess we could make a team. Meerkats and lynxes, not bad.
2 responses so far ↓
1 Harry // Aug 1, 2007 at 8:57 pm
This is great stuff. You could write a book, you know a coffee table book, in case the “science thing” doesn’t pan out.
2 Alicia // Aug 2, 2007 at 8:40 pm
Epilogue: Director nixed monofilament idea as limping chicken not deformed enough; “just find one with one eye or no feathers or something.” After hate emails from Craigslist readers (”You are sick! I WILL NEVER SEE THIS MOVIE!!!!”), alienating poultry farmers across North Jersey (most recommended I try Animal Control after explaining that chickens with deformities do not last long…unwilling to entertain prospect of my adopting, if briefly, any mutant hatched chick), a Union City poultry market adventure, a visit to local taxidermy shop, director relented that they could be normal chickens. Upon arrival (with cow farmer; we also needed a cow), I found out that chickens do not calmly stroll around and peck at the ground cutely when you throw food. They run away very fast and scream like humans.
CUT TO: Farmer Pat Hlubik and A inside “Lord High Charlie’s House” set, crouched on ground, Alicia holding scissors and lengths of twine as farmer tied chickens’ feet together.
CUT TO: A. chasing screaming, shuffling chicken up the stairs of reconstructed Colonial house.
CUT TO: A. arriving triumphantly on set with restrained chickens, ready to tie them to the barn set itself.
CUT TO: Chickens lying motionless on ground, their twine lengths stretched taut behind them.
DISSOLVE TO:
Adorable pocket-szied goat approaches actor, bends down to eat some grain, looks straight into actor’s eyes, walks calmly out of frame…
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