“Shut up!”

“Go to hell!”

“No, you go to hell!”

“I’m so fucking tired of you not knowing when to keep your nose out of my business.” The movie director, Jordan Mikaelis complained.

“Actually, it’s all MY BUSINESS since it’s MY MONEY!” Producer, Ernest Watson replied.

Everybody at the set was sitting, waiting for the outcome. At first the fights between both men, kept everybody on their toes, but once they learned everything was bark and no bite they just sat there and waited.

“People are not dumb!” Jordan continued. “You don’t have to be constantly spoon feeding them every little piece of information. That only gets in the way of, otherwise, telling an interesting narrative!”

“And I’m telling you I know what it works and what it doesn’t! I’ve been in this industry for far longer than you!” Ernest yelled.

“That’s the problem, maybe if you weren’t so old you would see that what it worked in the past doesn’t work anymore.”

“I don’t care about your opinion. You are just the director, make the changes I want or I will fire you!”

“You can’t fire me!” Jordan screamed offended.

“Sure I can. You think yourself special? I have hundreds of movie directors working at McDonalds dying for an opportunity.’”Ernest laughed.

“Hire a McDonalds guy and you will get a McDonalds movie!” Jordan couldn’t hide his grin. “But I, on the other hand, I’m fucking Scorsese reincarnated. Not all the McDonalds in the world can pay for that.”

“I don’t fucking care. I’m done with this shit and I’m done with your ego. You only know how to lose money.” Ernest accused Jordan.

“Don’t blame that on me,” Jordan defended himself. “Thank your team of creative accountants for that.”

“With you it's always somebody else’s fault. Can’t wait for someone to put you in your place.”

“Maybe it should be you,” Jordan challenged him.

“Maybe it should.”

Ernest walked out of the set without another word and people thought it was the last of that. Until next morning when Jordan didn’t go to the set.

***

Jordan woke up with a sudden noise, hitting his head in the process. Still half asleep, his eyes were blurry and his head was pounding. He couldn’t recognize the place he was in or how he got there; last night was a blank canvas for him. The noise interrupted his thoughts. He located the sound of the noise, a cellphone. He tried to get it hitting his head again.

“Hello?’”He answered with a dubious tone.

“Hello Jordan! So good to see you are awake! I was afraid that I had overdosed you and you would never wake up to hear me again.”

“Wh--”Jordan didn’t know what response he should give to such an stupid statement but he recognized the voice immediately, Ernest Watson.

“Jordan,” Ernest continued. “Are you still there? Please, don’t tell me you lost conscious again or something. Don’t’ tell me! Are you panicking yet? Please, tell me you are panicking.”

“What are you talking about?” Jordan slurred to the best of his abilities.

“C’mon Jordan, take a good look at your surroundings with the help of the phone. I will wait.”

Jordan moved the cellphone to illuminate the area. He was trapped in a square box covered with fabric of some kind. He felt fear curling in his stomach at the realization of where he was.

“Did you figure it out yet?” Ernest asked.

“You son of a bitch!” Jordan shouted. “What have you done?”

“Why the surprise? I told you someone had to put you in your place and I did.” Ernest’s cold voice only pissed him off more.

“You buried me alive!” Jordan shouted accusingly.

“Figured out I could make more money this way. I mean, a promising star that mysteriously vanished? The press and public will eat it up.”

“You buried me alive.” The weight of the situation was sinking in, turning the angry shouting into scared weeping.

“Yeah, we already talked about it.” Ernest responded,sounding bored.

“I—I will call the police.”

“You can try, I mean, if the battery lives long enough maybe you can explain to them that you don’t know where you are or how you got there.”

“You buried me,” Jordan said full on sobbing.

“Good luck proving that.”

When Jordan didn’t answered Ernest kept talking.

“C’mon, don’t cry Bozo. I’m sure you can find a solution. You are a smart guy, like your audience.”

He laughed and hung the phone, silencing the sniveling mess that he was leaving behind.