Stanley Kubrick asks me.
Yes. For Princesses. A la Full Metal Jacket.
He tells me its a possibility.
The first thing I want him to do is shave them
and put them in a room full of mirrors.
They will do push-ups, counting to 100 in German.
As they sweat away their designer make-up and perfumes,
I’ll be up front--beating Prince Charming with long-stemed roses and wigs.
I’ll make the princesses watch.
Then it’s time for running in high-heels.
I’ll ride the white horse around, bareback, barking orders.
You’ve got a blister? Well that’s your problem.
Once they like it, they can leave.
They can keep their gun and black belt.
They can go collect a manbitch in Vegas, get an abortion, go nuts. Get a job.
And Cut. And Print.
That’s a Wrap.
Kubrick shakes my hand and tells me I’m crazy.
So what? I got to keep Mr.Charming’s head.
(and the horse.)