Callum/Helleboredoll (kinda) PG13, guest staring (blink and you'll miss him) Hugh Dillon and a rather annoyed Wizard.
"Hi! You Doll?"
"Yeah, and you're Callum Keith Rennie." Doll looks at the nervous man trying to hide behind the door, a difficult thing to do since Doll's door opens inwards, so in fact Callum was trying to hide behind something that was no longer there, but he was an actor and used to things that were never there, so he managed quite admirably. He felt nervous, because he'd just read the note in his hand, and was cursing himself for not ironing it open before he set out. And then, he felt nervous, because Doll was looking at him like a plate of meat. If anyone looked at a plate of meat like it was something they wanted to drag into a room and get intimate with. Or not drag into a room, that's how powerful the look was. And the only people who looked at meat that way were the sort of people who lived with their mother and had a secret stash of Penthouse that actually lifted their bed off the ground, so their vintage model aeroplanes tickled their noses as they slept. And they weren't just interested in plates of meat, no; they were interested in jello, and peanut butter, and their inflatable friend Sally who came round to housesit when their mothers went to visit the relations in California.
"Ehm, well..." Callum knows he sounds like a fucking dork, but he doesn't really think Ms Doll cares a thing about what's coming out of his mouth. He tells himself that he needs to pretend that it's an acting gig, go all method.
The problem being, Callum can't think his way into the roll in any way other than the way he's thinking now. 'Cause one) he's too fucking scared and two) while he's played enough sickos and psychoes to make every other actor on the planet say "oh Callum, he's real sweet" when interviewed, but none of them would do something like this. Callum doesn't want to think about anyone who'd do something like this.
Callum also doesn't want to think about that guy whose drink he'd knocked over while out on the town with Hugh, who was in one of his drying out phases again, and it's so easy to party dry when you have company. Callum had just reached over to get his lemonade, when, whammo, the guy's drink had fallen over.
And Callum would have been happier if the guy was , you know, a hell's angel or something, 'cause he's been in bar fights before. They nearly cost him his eye, but he knows them, knows how to get out fast, and anyway he had Hugh for backup. And sobriety gets you sympathy and everything, particularly when backed up Hugh's particular brand of bull.
But, no. What had he got? A fucking wizard, who said everything would be okay, if he went and fulfilled an outstanding request made of him. And gave him a note to deliver, and suddenly Callum found himself on Ms Doll's doorstep.
And it's even worse than presenting an awards night or something, he ain't got no mike to hide behind. So he just gets it out as fast as he can, "It says here that as per your request you can have sex with me, provided you bite my head off after"
How the fuck is he meant to do that? His teeth are shit anyway, all enamel and plastic and how rock and roll do you have to be when you upgrade from bats to groupies on the head removal with teeth front? Then, he realises he's not meant to do the biting. Ms Doll has such shiny sinfull teath.
And Doll just smiles and says "Which head?"
And Callum just faints.