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"Ah...ha." <span class="mu-r">Tar and blood pours out of your mouth as you force yourself to laugh.</span> "Ah. Ha. Haha! H-holy s-s-s..hit, thisis...it?" You let Yovani support all of your bodyweight as you put all effort into standing back up straight.
Even he's not looking too good. A low pitch whine is hissing out of his body and his expression is not too much better than "just got stabbed in the tongue". But your laughter has snapped him out of whatever pain he's in.
[HOPELESS WRECK] LAUGH AT IT, NOT WITH IT. "L-listen up, shitbag. I don't mind a couple off-script events - that adds blood, authenticity - but pulling a stunt like that is going to turn off the viewers and throw out the setting."
[HOPELESS WRECK] KEEP TALKING. THERE'S A REASON THEY TELL THE AUDIENCE TO STAY QUIET DURING A SHOW. "This is pr-primetime, not some amateur hour's home v-video shots. Fall in line or find another job; we've got plenty chomping for the bit."
You and Yovani push closer to the TV. Each step feels like the air itself is rejecting your presence. Yovani forces his synthesizer to power on. It's hard to make him out, untuned and conflicting with other channels.
"F-fucking divas. Do you know h-hoh-how many I had t-to deal with?" Crackle. "Giallo, H-Hirose, g-god damn Jackson Gel? Y-you think you're hot shit, huh?" Yovani forces a laugh as well. "In sh-showbiz, you would've been replaced eons ago! You're nothing!"
Another step closer. It's getting easier to move. The images on the screen keep flickering. Burning bodies. A boot with spurs crushing a man's skull. <span class="mu-r">NOTHINGNOTHINGNOTHINGNOT-</span>
Yovani smacks your across the side of the face. "Focus, dipshit! You're the god damn director! Finish filming the scene! And you!" Yovani points at the TV as you recover. "I've only been here for a few days..."
"But wanna know something? Three anomalies are already gone, replaced or dead. You think you're not replaceable?" A spark blows out on the left side of his torso. You almost feel your left side burst too. "Do you know how many shows got replaced because of a bad director? Or, better yet..."
You nod. "A cast who refuses to do their job?" You finally place your hand on the dial. The images stop for a second.
<span class="mu-r">"I ALREADY HAVE THE PRIMETIME SLOT! YOU CAN'T CHANGE NOW, NOTHING CAN REPLACE THE UPCOMING SH-"</span>
"Learn your place. In showbiz, nobody's irreplaceable." You <span class="mu-b">twist the dial.</span>
The two of you fall to your knees. The air feels like it's back to regular, if stale, air and not whatever thick signal-infested mess you were in. The screen has a simple children's show playing on it. Something about pirates looking for treasure.
<span class="mu-b">No semblance of violence is shown from what little you watch.</span>
"You okay, sir?" Yovani hands a hand out to you. You grab his hand and stand up. "Y-yeah, not my first rodeo with this kinda stuff."
He pats you on the back. "Well, let's get out of here." You both leave.
You hear the TV turn off as you do
