Chapter 132: Chapter 132 Rattlesnake (Please subscribe)

Action scenes are exhausting to shoot, and it's inevitable that actors get a few bumps and scrapes. Martin was fine, but several stunt doubles were bruised all over.

This was common on set, and stunt performers were used to it.

After another action scene was wrapped up, Martin was unscathed, but the doubles were panting heavily.

Aga, who had long since lost his voice from shouting, told an assistant, "Let them rest for an hour."

Three stuntmen who resembled Martin in build, along with two who played deranged characters, made their way to the rest area and slumped down, not wanting to move anymore.

Martin personally went to fetch some Gatorade and handed a bottle to each one, saying, "Guys, replenish some energy."

"You did as much shooting as we did, take a break." Buck, a double who had built up a good physique but unfortunately began balding at twenty-five, commended, "Martin, you really have good stamina."

Martin sat on a chair, deliberately flexing his arm, pointing to his bulging muscle and boasted, "Forgot? I'm the toughest guy on the crew."

When men gather for a chat, how could they not brag, "Have you guys seen my machine gun dance? I've also got the best stamina."

Lord, one of the character actors, mentioned, "My wife and I watched the Saturn Awards live. When she saw you dance, she mocked me, saying compared to that guy, you're a wimp. Right then, I thought when I meet him, I'm going to smash his bro."

Martin, feigning shock, said, "Buddy, you can hit my face, but not my bro, because you'd break your hand!" seaʀᴄh thё ηovelFire.ηet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Lewis, also one of Martin's doubles, chimed in, "Martin, I'll admit, in the whole crew you're the fittest and the toughest, but what you truly rank first in is your thick skin."

The others burst into laughter.

Martin said earnestly, "Know what the most widespread saying in Atlanta is? Everyone's jealous of Martin. Everyone wants to be Martin."

He coughed, "Here's some good news for you. This weekend, we're teaming up with the crew next door to throw a beach party."

Lord got excited, "Really?"

"The crew next door is all pretty babes," Buck said.

Martin suggested, "How about we form a babe-hunting squad?"

"No, I'm staying away from you," Lewis had long accepted reality, "Following you, all the pretty babes go looking for you, and what do we get? Just the leftover ugly ones."

The guys bantered for a while before Bruce walked over, saying Sophia was looking for him.

Martin had thought Sophia would go straight back to Atlanta after her trip with Scott, but to his surprise, she had come back.

Dragging Bruce along, Martin reassured, "Don't worry, as long as I'm here, she won't dare mess with you."

Bruce's buttocks clenched and his legs trembled, though he tried to sound tough, "You're worried about what she'll do to you!"

The two nervous men met Sophia at the entrance of the sound stage.

The Amazonian woman, dressed in a tank top and shorts, showing off her muscular physique, announced, "I'm getting ready to head back to Atlanta."

Bruce's tense legs involuntarily relaxed.

"Keep an eye on things here, both of you. Don't cause any trouble," Sophia suddenly remembered the fat investor from Los Angeles, "If that, what's his name, that ugly fatso dares to make trouble, call me. I'll go to Los Angeles and sort him out myself!"

"No problem," Martin felt some reassurance, ready to summon Sophia if Weinstein caused a stir.

Sophia's gaze swept over Bruce's face, and Bruce, grabbing Martin's arm, suddenly remembered that this lump of dog crap might sell him out.

Martin simply said, "Goodbye."

"I'm off," Sophia gestured to Scott and headed out of the studio.

Scott followed behind, walking with a stride that didn't recognize kin.

Martin and Bruce walked back, passing the beverage area where two crew members were packing up.

Their voices were somewhat loud, "Did you see? Our Martin is amazing in action scenes, the toughest in the crew."

"I've got someone even tougher on my side," another from the neighboring set bragged, "His last film was Texas Chainsaw Massacre, you know what the director said? If he went to war, the only option for Iraqi enemies would be to run."

One of the crew members hinted, "Anyone can brag."

"You don't know, he was a professional boxer before becoming an actor. When he first started out, there was this time in the studio's communal showers... He's a pretty boy, covered in suds, and these bastards looking for some fun came along. He saw them in the mirror, and then... bam bam bam, those bastards were all laid out," the other recounted.

"Really?" asked the crew member.

"Many from my side know about it," he affirmed.

Martin and Bruce didn't stop their stride, continuing inward.

Once they were well past, the two men turned to look back, and the crew member remarked, "He definitely heard us, payoff time."

Rick from the neighboring set dug out a roll of small-denomination US dollars and handed it over, "Spread the word more around the set."

The crew member took the money, "Piece of cake."

Reaching the rest area, Martin found a quiet spot to sit down and rest with his eyes closed.

Bruce sat next to him, glancing over at the beverage area.

Martin inquired, "Who were they talking about? What are they planning to do? Using such a stupid method?"

Bruce thought for a moment before speaking, "To provoke you into a fistfight? Parading around the crew, giving the impression you favor an upfront, honorable confrontation?"

Martin was unhappy, "Are you saying I'm not honorable? Not upright?"

Bruce laid out the facts, "Please provide examples of when and where you've faced someone head-on."

Martin didn't bite and switched back, "Leaving enough information to have me come over and fight? This rotten tactic is even worse than Adrian's."

He shook his head, "Even Lily, that idiot, is better than him."

Bruce said, "First, find out who it is."

Martin pulled out his phone and called Blake Lively, asked a couple of quick questions, then hung up and said, "Mike Vogel, utterly unsurprising."

Bruce commented, "The actor from WMA who's got a style similar to yours? No wonder, you're in his way. What a shitty circle."

Martin pointed to the side, "He's in the crew next door, so he wants to provoke me into picking a fight?" He recalled his few encounters with the man, "He doesn't seem like someone brainless."

Bruce suggested, "How about this, you keep on bragging on set, and I'll spread some rumors. We'll spend some money to get Dallot involved, see what happens."

Martin smiled, "Bragging? I'm the best at it."

When the break ended, Martin, with a touch-up of makeup, joined the stunt actors back on set.

Perhaps stimulated by the news of the weekend party, the stunt actors regained their energy.

......

Los Angeles, Pacific Pictures.

In the office, Louise, wearing black-framed glasses, looked sharp and efficient without a hint of frivolity.

Nikki, the assistant, knocked and entered, placing the latest report on her desk.

Louise took it and sighed, "Even Jerry Bruckheimer couldn't pull off a comeback miracle."

"King Arthur", co-produced by Touchstone Pictures and Bruckheimer Films, was a disaster.

With a budget of over a hundred million US dollars, North America's opening weekend brought in only 15 million US dollars. Now, three weekends later, the North American box office had a pathetic 45 million, with screenings plummeting from over 3,000 theaters to less than 2,000.

Huge losses were inevitable.

With "Troy" not meeting expectations and "King Arthur" both critically and commercially panned, what about "Alexander the Great"?

Louise's years as a producer gave her the feeling that the market was tired of this genre.

The success of "Gladiator" and "The Lord of the Rings" had led people to believe that North America was entering an era of epics and fantasy.

What was once a universally accepted forecast might now be flawed.

Louise grabbed the bottle next to her, poured herself a drink, and downed it in one go. Then picked up the phone and called Warner's CEO Barry Meyer to suggest delaying the release of "Alexander the Great".

Barry Meyer refused. The package deal involved finances from various parties, and nobody was willing to wait any longer.

Louise then called Warner's President Ellen Horn, who also didn't think delaying the release was a good idea. The market wouldn't change in the short term, and finances involved in the package couldn't be tied up for long. If a year-end launch failed, delaying half a year wouldn't change the outcome.

After hanging up, Louise had another drink, stood up, and walked to the window, looking at the nearby Warner Bros. Studios, feeling immense pressure.

She took off her glasses, pulled out a notepad Martin had given her from her bag, tore out a page, and then called Nikki over, "Call Mister Fashion and the Bartenders' Association, and tell them Master Mixologist Louise Mel has created a brand new cocktail."

......

Cowboy Jeans crew's base, where the crew was making final preparations for the actual shoot, and the actors were busy rehearsing their parts.

In ten days, Mike Vogel would follow 'Unit B' of the crew to Greece to film.

Rick from the crew discreetly approached Vogel, saying, "I've been over there every day, I'm absolutely certain about this—Martin Davis likes to boast and is incredibly arrogant. Everyone on that crew is buttering him up."

As Vogel adjusted his dyed dark brown hair in the mirror, he asked, "Anything else?"

"He likes to drink, goes out for a drink with production and acting crew members every day after work." Rick had gathered quite a bit of intel, "As soon as he drinks a little more, he boasts even harder, claiming he's the most talented man in Georgia.

Once, when he'd had too much, he even boasted about having a gunfight with gangsters and dealers, bragging he shot a dealer's 'asterisk.' You could tell it was fake just by listening."

Vogel nodded; the guy was a typical case of drinking too much and forgetting who he was.

Judging that Martin Davis was arrogant and liked to show off in front of others, he purposely leaked information intending to stir up Martin's competitive spirit—then, with the addition of alcohol…

Vogel then inquired, "Are you sure they're throwing a party?"

Rick replied, "This Saturday, all day long."

Standing in front of the mirror, Vogel spent a few minutes thinking, "Rick, you're Mexican. Could you get a rattlesnake or some other venomous snake?"

"What are you planning to do? Put a venomous snake in his room?" Although Rick was from Tijuana, he didn't want to be involved in causing an American's death, "I won't do that kind of thing. There are surveillance cameras everywhere in the hotel, you can't hide from them! Buddy, I advise you not to mess around."

Vogel, whose father had once worked in a snake farm, had some knowledge about venomous snakes, "Why would I do that? You must be joking."

Rick asked, "You're sure you're not up to mischief?"

"Find someone to get a snake, mostly empty its venom sac," Vogel whispered a few more instructions, emphasizing, "I'll pay extra."

Rick agreed, "Sure, Mexico isn't short of those things."