Adaptation

When you ask random people for challenging sentences, be careful that you get what you wish for. (If you're new to this, the bolded sentences/phrases are forced to be included verbatim as first/last sentences and the rest we fill in to make a story... in hopefully less than an hour.)

Here, I cheated terribly... (I was entirely clueless and uninspired). Yune did better.

Mine:

"Whatever happens, the word 'penetrate' must be in there somewhere."

James sighed. Like every screenwriter in Hollywood, he was very familiar with directors' superstitions, but Patrick Dumas was worse than most. Most directors wanted annoying but fairly benign things included: a very minor character named Steve, some hidden hello to a family member or mention of God, stuff like that. But Sir Dumas, as he insisted on being called, was just plain weird. Every script, before he would even consider it, had to have a particular linguistic quirk, something that he would "discover" the day before. Last night, James smiled to himself, Sir must have been reading something his wife certainly didn't approve of.

But James really needed some income and "penetrate" was an easy enough word to include. There were ample possibilities: "penetrate defenses", "penetrates the frigid depths of ones soul" something like that. Of course, he had to be doing an adaptation, and this meant he'd have to fudge a little dialogue, something the author probably wouldn't approve of. Oh well, it was an adaptation after all and the golden phrase "based on" would suffice to deal with that problem.

As James headed back, Patrick Dumas breathed a little easier. He hadn't expected the new writer to agree so easily. The last few had turned away disgusted by the requirements for his chef-d'oeuvre. Now that he'd found a willing screenwriter, he needed to go back and consult his aura. He was so uncreative without it. He cut a good sized piece of the 'cid blotter tucked into his desk drawer. "Aura enhancer" he called it and it did help him tune into his inner muse.

Lately, it had appeared as various crustaceans, inspiring him to make a movie based on Cannery Row. As with previous movies, the muse had given him all the instructions he needed to make film into the huge success. Now that step one was done, he needed another shot of inspiration. As he slipped the paper under his tongue, the world ebbed and flowed like the tide and he felt in tune with the ocean.

This wasn't a happy trip, however. The ocean became rocky and things swam at him viciously. His aura appeared, in the guise of a lobster this time, and swung its menacing pincers at him. He had done something wrong. What, he didn't know, but something was wrong and he would have to pay. He ran, pincers nipping at his heels crashing into giant reefs and forests of seaweed. He stumbled into a shipwreck, jumping down the hatch.

It wasn't until he hit the cold water of his pool that the lobster that was chasing him suddenly disappeared.