Every summer, when it gets so hot that you just can't stand it, these guys show up. Not only do you have to contend with the heat and humidity, you have to constantly check for laser sights, wrist blades and throwing discs.
And man are they jerks.
Their English is really bad, so they tend to work with an interpreter. This poor guy tried holding the door open for the Predator, only to be picked up and shoved through the studio entrance. I guess it was afraid of booby traps or something.
"Mister, ah, Dave? My client is interested in having some shots taken. You know, to sign at conventions."
To sign at conventions, the Predator clicked. It sounded like it was mocking him.
As I gathered up my gear, I asked if Reflector if he was ready. "NOPE." He hasn't been the same since the Bionic Commando shoot went south...
We started off slow, with just a couple quick snaps to get him used to the camera.
Apparently, that was the wrong thing to do, because those arm swords started swinging a little close to my face.
"Hey, that's a cool mask" I said and moved in for a close-up. "Uhhhh, Dave? I, um, I don't think you should be doing th-" Click.
And then it started yelling.
"The, ah, Predator would like to negotiate on your price."
Did I mention that Predators are jerks?
Be good,
-Dave
(Today's post inspired by Edward Lee's excellent Predator pic)
your heart is in my pocket
and there's a lie inside my hand
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