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So I'm just finishing up with this movie I've been working on. The producer is a lying, arrogant prick who no doubt assumes his farts smell like fresh-baked cinnamon buns, but he went back home today, so all is good.
Almost.
He's a cheap motherfucker (most guys who drive new BMW 540s and live in million-plus dollar homes are), and he stiffed me for my cell charges, and my boss for rental charges on some equipment. He just basically said "sorry, there's no money, so I'm not going to pay you".
Of course there's no money. There never is. But there's always enough to take him, the Transport Coordinator (another jackass) and the two skanky hair/makup artists to some stripjoint. There's always enough to buy not one but two new BMWs for him and his wife. There's always enought to put him and his family up at a $2500 per week townhouse instead of a hotel.
So after dropping that bomb, he walked out of the office and straight to his new 540i (with his spoiled brats in-tow).
About two minutes later, he comes charging back into the office, interrupting a discussion by the ten of us left in the office, about what a cheap bastard this guy is.
"Does anyone have any fucking jumper cables?!" He cries.
"NO!", was the syncronous reply. He stormed out.
Of course, we all have jumper cables; we're real people living in the real world.
Have fun waiting for the Auto Club on the day of the first snowfall of the year, fuckstick!
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