After wrapping up the opening scene, we all huddled around the projector to review our handiwork. I couldn't help but chuckle at Rocky's rare display of embarrassment as he watched himself on screen.
"That was a very good start for your career as an actor," I said, nudging him with my elbow.
Rocky raised an eyebrow. "Career?"
"Didn't you dream of being an actor when you were young?" I asked, genuinely curious.
A wistful look crossed Rocky's face. "Hehe, well, if this film of yours receives a great response, maybe my dream will be achieved after all."
The crew and I exchanged smiles. Who knew our gruff old ticket-taker had such hidden depths?
***
(Rocky's POV)
After the review session with the young prince - er, ex-prince Arthur, we dove right back into filming. Next up: the wedding scenes.
We set up shop just outside the manor, the air buzzing with nervous energy. I found myself adjusting my tie for the hundredth time, trying to channel the gravitas of Don Vito.
The actress playing Connie, my character's daughter, was a succubus demon. But if you ask me, she looked about as succubus-like as a potato. Average as they come. I couldn't help but wonder what Arthur saw in her, but hey, I'm just the actor, not the casting director.
As we got into position for the family photo, I cleared my throat and asked the "photographer" (really just one of our crew pulling double duty), "Where's Michael?"
The guy just shook his head, right on cue.
I gotta hand it to our ragtag team - they were giving it their all. The production three cobbled-together color cameras were whirring away, capturing the scene from different angles.
The cast was in full swing, and our crew was running around like caffeinated imps, juggling their regular jobs with their roles as extras.
And there was Arthur, decked out in his Michael soldier suit, somehow managing to direct and observe while getting ready for his own scene. The kid looked like he was in seven places at once, barking orders one minute and adjusting someone's costume the next.
***
(Arthur's POV)
Directing is no joke, let me tell you. We'd made some decent progress on the wedding scenes, but man, was I feeling it. With our skeleton crew and bargain-bin equipment, every shot felt like a small miracle.
When it came time for my scene as Michael, I did my best to channel that wide-eyed, optimistic Empirican vibe. You know, the kind of guy who still believes in the system and all that jazz.
Now, I should probably explain something about Empirica. In our real world, it's this powerful human nation that wouldn't give demons the time of day. But in my Demonfather universe? It's a melting pot of races - demons, elves, dwarves, all living together in somewhat harmony. Hey, it's my film, I'll worldbuild how I want, thank you very much.
Surprisingly, slipping into Michael's shoes wasn't as tough as I'd thought it'd be. Maybe it's because we've got more in common than I'd like to admit. Both youngest sons, both black sheep of the family... though I doubt Michael ever got exiled for trying to make a movie. Then again, stranger things have happened.
One of the best parts? Getting to show off Firfel to the "family".
As an elf, she stood out like a sore thumb in our sea of demons and dwarves. But that was the point, wasn't it? Kay Adams, the outsider, the glimpse of a different world.
During one take, I caught Firfel eyeing Kyle, our Luca Brasi. The big lug was off to the side, muttering to himself, "On the wedding day of your daughter..." over and over. Method acting at its finest, folks.
I leaned in close to Firfel, playing up Michael's protective side. "He's a very scary guy," I stage-whispered.
Firfel, ever the professional, didn't miss a beat. "Well, who is he? What's his name?" she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of fear.
We kept at it, take after take, until finally, mercifully, we wrapped the wedding scenes. As I called "Cut!" for the last time, I felt a mixture of exhaustion and exhilaration. We'd done it. It wasn't perfect, but by the horns of the devil, we'd actually done it.
***
Days blurred together as we kept filming, inching forward one scene at a time. Today's challenge? Tom Hagen's visit to the big-shot director's mansion to get Johnny Fontane cast.
Now, to really sell the director's arrogance, we needed someone who could ooze entitlement. Enter our secret weapon: a human actor. Yeah, you heard that right. We snagged him for cheap - turns out even in the human world, he couldn't catch a break. Their loss, our gain.
I should probably explain something here. Humans living in the demon world? Not as rare as you'd think. They've even got their own little enclaves scattered around. And boy, do they act like they own the place.
To be fair, their swagger isn't entirely misplaced. Humans have spread across two whole continents - Empirica and Evros. Meanwhile, us demons are packed into Anatolia. Sure, we've got a decent chunk of land, but when it comes to population? We're outnumbered, big time.
It's a numbers game, really. Demon birth rates are lower than a imp's IQ, and the projections aren't looking great. Give it a few more years, and we might be looking at a serious demon shortage.
As I watched our human actor strut onto set, oozing that perfect blend of charm and condescension, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of... something. Envy? Worry? Who knows. But it was a stark reminder of the changing tides in our world.
"Alright, people!" I called out, pushing those thoughts aside. "We'll start filming at any moment now. Johnny Devilkin, you ready to grovel?"
Johnny, our Tom Hagen, gave me a thumbs up. "Ready to beg like my hellhound's life depends on it, boss."
I grinned. "Perfect. And you, Mr. Big Shot Director?" I turned to our human actor. "Remember, you're not just playing a role. You're representing your entire species' superiority complex."
The guy actually puffed up his chest at that. Method acting at its finest.
"Alright, guys," I said, settling into my director's chair (slightly less wobbly crate). "Three, two, one. And... action!"
The scene unfolded like a demonic dance. Johnny, our Tom Hagen, laid on the charm thick as molasses, trying to convince Mr. Big Shot Director to cast Johnny Fontane.
I had to hand it to Johnny - for a demon, he played a pretty convincing demon lawyer.
But the real showstopper? That came in the next scene.
Our human actor, sprawled across his bed, clutching a bloody unicorn head like it was his firstborn.
"Ahh!!!"
It was grotesque, it was over-the-top, it was... perfect.
"Cut!" I called out, trying not to grin like a maniac. "That was... surprisingly good."
Our human actor sat up, still cradling the prop unicorn head. "Surprisingly?" he echoed, sounding mildly offended.
I shrugged. "Hey, I calls 'em like I sees 'em. Now put down Sparkles and let's review the footage."
We were all set to review the scene when our human actor decided to pull a diva move. He swaggered off, not even bothering to watch his performance. Talk about confidence.
"Aren't you gonna watch?" I called after him.
He tossed a dismissive wave over his shoulder. "Don't need to, darling. I know I nailed it."
I couldn't help but smirk. His ego might be the size of the Eden continent (largest continent of this world), but it worked in our favor. The guy had no clue we were shooting in color. Sometimes, ignorance really is bliss - for us, anyway.
As the scene played out, I had to admit - his scream was something else. It sent shivers down my spine, and I'm a demon for hell's sake. In my humble, possibly biased opinion, it even outdid the original scene from my previous life. The terror in his eyes? Oscar-worthy, if I do say so myself.
"Well," I announced to the remaining crew, "I think we've got ourselves a keeper."
It was late at night, long after everyone had gone home, I found myself alone in the studio.
The quiet was almost eerie after the constant chaos of filming. I queued up the footage we'd shot so far, settling in for a private viewing party.
As Rocky's gravelly voice filled the room - "I'll make him an offer he can't refuse" - I felt goosebumps rise on my arms. It was surreal, hearing those iconic words in our demon-infested version of the classic.
Watching the scenes unfold, a wild idea started to take shape. We needed music - a theme that could capture the essence of our demon mob epic. And who better to compose it than yours truly?
Okay, so maybe I wasn't exactly a musical prodigy in this life or my last. But I remembered enough of the Godfather theme to replicate it. All I needed was a group of musicians crazy enough to bring my half-baked ideas to life.
I grabbed a piece of paper, scribbling down notes and humming to myself. It was probably a good thing no one was around to hear my tone-deaf attempts at composition.
***
The next day, I roped in my crew to help track down a music group willing to bring my demonic symphony to life. And by "willing," I mean "cheap enough that we could afford them without selling our souls." Well, what's left of our souls, anyway.
"Alright, folks," I announced, waving my scribbled composition like a battle flag. "We need musicians. Preferably ones who won't laugh us out of the room when they see this."
George squinted at my chicken scratch. "Boss, are you sure that's music and not a summoning spell gone wrong?"
I chose to ignore that. "Look, we're not aiming for the demon philharmonic here. Just find me a group that can play more than two notes without setting something on fire."
As the crew scattered to scour the underbelly of Ferland City's music scene, I couldn't help but wince at our financial situation. We'd already burned through 29 thousand dollars on location rentals, filming permits, and extras for scenes like the wedding.
And that's not even counting the 40 thousand we'd dropped on feeding and paying our ragtag cast and crew.
I glanced at our dwindling funds. Out of our original 200k, we were down to 131 thousand. It was like watching sand slip through an hourglass, if the sand was money and the hourglass was our increasingly precarious budget.
Thank hell I'd managed to sweet-talk the crew into taking a cut of the box office instead of their full salary. Of course, that was assuming we'd have a box office to cut. But hey, optimism is free, right?
"At least they're not complaining," I muttered to myself, watching the crew bustling around.
They seemed content with the three square meals a day and the promise of "experience." Part of me felt guilty, but another part - the part that was quickly learning the cutthroat nature of demon show business - knew this was how dreams got made. On empty stomachs and even emptier wallets.
Rocky sidled up to me, eyeing the budget sheet I was scowling at. "You know, kid, in my day, we didn't need fancy music or color cameras to tell a story."
I raised an eyebrow. "In your day, was that before or after the invention of fire?"
He chuckled, a sound like gravel in a blender. "All I'm saying is, don't lose sight of what's important. The story, the performances. That's what people will remember."
I nodded, feeling a mix of gratitude and determination. "Thanks, Rocky. But trust me, once they hear this theme, they'll never forget the Demonfather."
As if on cue, George burst back into the studio, out of breath and grinning like he'd just won the demon lottery. "Boss! You're not gonna believe this, but I found a group of banshee sisters who owe me a favor. They're willing to do it for free!" I showed off my music composition sheet.
I blinked. "Banshees?"
George nodded enthusiastically. "Yep! They've been trying to break into the music scene for ages. Figure this is their big break."
I looked down at my composition, then back at George's eager face. What the hell, right? "Book 'em," I said, grinning despite myself. "Let's see if they can sing or play instruments."
George chuckled, puffing up with pride. "Oh, they definitely can. I've seen them play before. Their fee's usually pretty steep, but when I mentioned it was for a movie soundtrack and called in that favor they owed me, they agreed to do it for free."
I couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, I guess the idiot ones are always favored by luck," I quipped, clearly referring to George's unexpected stroke of good fortune.
But George, bless his heart, completely missed the jab. "Boss Arthur, don't look down on yourself like that. You're just lucky to have me, but you're not an idiot."
The crew and Rocky, who'd been eavesdropping, burst into laughter. Talk about a backfire.
I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Well, just go and call the banshee sisters."
George nodded and scurried off, still beaming with misplaced pride.
Before long, our studio was invaded by the Banshee Sisters. They swept in like a storm, all flowing dark hair and piercing eyes, lugging instruments that looked like they'd been salvaged from a gothic orchestra's garage sale.
Despite being demons, they were human-like, save for their slightly blue-tinged skin and the fact that their hair seemed to move of its own accord. Each sister was breathtakingly beautiful in a way that made you wonder if you'd survive getting close enough for a better look.
"Ladies," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt, "welcome to Hellfire Studios. Ready to make some music soundtrack for my movie?"
The eldest sister, or at least the one who radiated the most "don't mess with me" energy, stepped forward. "We hear you have a composition for us?"
I handed over my scribbled mess of a score, trying not to wince as she scrutinized it. "It's, uh, a work in progress," I mumbled.
To my surprise, her eyes lit up. "This... this is intriguing. Sisters, positions!"
What happened next can only be described as musical magic. The banshees took their places, instruments at the ready. As they began to play, the studio filled with a sound that was hauntingly familiar yet utterly unique.
The melody of the Godfather theme emerged, but it was transformed. The banshees' voices provided an otherworldly choir, their instruments adding layers of depth I hadn't even imagined. It was beautiful, it was terrifying, it was perfect.
As the last note faded, I realized I'd been holding my breath. "That was... wow," I managed, eloquent as ever.
The lead sister smiled, a sight both thrilling and slightly terrifying. "We made some slight adjustments. Hope you don't mind."
I shook my head, still in awe. "Mind? That was incredible. You just gave our movie its soul."
As the crew erupted in applause and the banshees preened, I caught Rocky's eye. He gave me a subtle nod, a rare smile playing at his lips.
I grinned back. We'd done it. We had our cast, our footage, and now, a soundtrack that could raise the dead - or at least give them a good reason to dance elegantly.
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