Crossing the first threshold

Everything kicks off on Monday.

Today is Jake’s last day of paid employment. I get a slightly more graceful wind-down from a regular salary as the lengthy letting-Andy-go process shuffles on, but after today that’s it for m’partner. His bank account has gulped its last lung-full, and he has now got to hold his breath. Even for a man with an absence of life-anchors (no mortgage, girlfriend, career, kids, friends, class, sense, etc.), it’s a massive commitment to the undead.

And he moves back in with his parents this weekend.

Damn... I salute you, Mr Hawkins.

So, better finish the back-story while you can, Phelps. List the project assets. Make it clear that we don’t have superstar actors or investors already lined up. Convince you that there is no Deus Ex Machina to mysteriously pull out of the bag later on and hope that nobody notices. In the spirit of full disclosure, this is our lot:

• The draft screenplay, honed by long summer afternoons in the pub planning character arcs and act turning points (I only knew we were thinking hard enough when I started waking up with a headache).
• The Guerrilla Film Makers’ Handbook. Of course.
• A year.
• A childishly impressive library of zombie movies, both great and small. And as I mentioned in my last posting, some are very, very small.
• 250 tea bags.
• Er… and that’s about it, really.

Not true. There’s also the GhoulFool. Not his real name, thankfully – think more a civically-responsible Hampshire Banksy. Our artist in residence, with talent oozing through every un-split end of his lavish perm. He’s currently sketching out our characters, visualising story elements, cooking up some poster art. And hopefully something to beautify this ugly-arse blog site. In case you think I have an obligation to blow smoke up his rectum, don’t take my word for it: http://www.ghoulfool.co.uk/.

So, on Monday we get lost in the detail. The planning. The OK-what-the-hell-do-we-do-now. It’ll be messy when you check in next week. Danders will be up. Medically significant levels of caffeine and chillies will be consumed. Reality biting. Grammar will suffer.

You have been warned. Antsy.