As Maxwell McGrath pulled his car through the studio gates, he wished yet again, that he could convince Kara Evercum that, as the director, he deserved a limousine. That way the fanatics picketing the studio wouldn't be able to single him out for praise and abuse. Max still wasn't sure how word had already leaked out about the homosexual soldier angle, especially since the revised script had only crossed his desk the day before.
The two groups of protesters were being carefully segregated by the studio security which was currently being augmented by a number of LA's finest. To the right of the studio entrance were representatives from the armed-forces, the Christian Coalition, and apparently the right-to-life society. At least that was the only reason Max could think of for an aborted fetus being on the placard. On the other side of the entrance were more people dressed in uniforms or at least parts of what might have been uniforms. There was a definite military theme to the flamboyant outfits the men were almost wearing.
Of course, Dirk hadn't just revised the story to have homosexual soldiers. He had decided that it would make the movie even more modern if the two lead soldiers were women, lesbians of course. Max wondered how Susan Swansong would react to the new role. She had gone from the creampuff role of a wife/soon to be widow, to being a grizzled veteran who takes a raw recruit under her wing and into her bed.
But breaking that news would have to wait for next week, when principle photography began. Today was a rehearsal with the stunt crew and the special effects team. They were going to be starting with the soldiers parachuting into battle.
When Max entered the soundstage he saw that the crews were already hard at work. Well, they had been hard at work at some point in the day, currently they were horsing around. What first caught Max's eye was the naked woman suspended from the ceiling. She was hanging from a parachute harness with her arms crossed in front of her small taut breasts. Actually, she wasn't quite naked, she seemed to be painted green with white dots.
Ilsa Tautfanny was not amused and was busy telling the crew below how not amused she was. It was bad enough that she was stuck twenty feet up in the air, but the crotch of the parachute harness was rubbing against her labia rather cruelly. The sort of cruel friction that always got her incredibly wet. So wet that the green paint that had been covering her pussy was now dripping down the inside of her thighs. And all those guys did was gawk at her instead of giving her a good fucking!
From her high vantage point, Ilsa was the first person on the crew to see the director walk on set. She couldn't exactly cover herself at this point, but she was able to get the crews attention and she was soon being lowered to the ground.
"What's going on here?" Max exclaimed with barely controlled anger. This was the part of the movie that he thought would actually go smoothly! A few thousand explosions, some soldiers being thrown into the air and torn to pieces, and a couple of people gliding down in parachutes.
The head of special effects, Steve Silverwood said, "We're just getting set up for the parachute stunt. We heard that we were going to be having women parachute, so Ilsa volunteered. Did we hear wrong?"
"But why is she naked! People don't parachute naked. Especially not while wearing green paint."
"That's not green paint."
"It sure looks like green paint, with white polka dots."
"Nope. That's a painted version of motion capture suit. We use the white spots to keep track of the motions of her arms and legs and nipples, then we use the computer to add in a uniform and we can then swap out Ilsa's face. Come take a look at the monitor."
Max followed Steve over to the computer screen which was waiting off to the side. Steve raised one finger in the air and twirled it, signaling his crew to take Ilsa back into the air, much to her chagrin. Soon Ilsa was again dangling twenty feet above the sound stage. The image on the monitor showed something very different. Gone were her long bare athletic limbs, replaced by baggy camouflage fatigues.
"The camo was from a World War II flick we were just working on. Since Tragic Tactics is a modern war movie, we were thinking something more like this," Steve said as he taped some commands into the computer.
The image flickered briefly to a green painted Ilsa before being replaced with Ilsa in a black form fitting lycra suit. There were red stripes running down the outside of her legs and arms, and a bold gold emblem on her chest. There were also a number of pads covering her body which only seemed to accentuate her feminine shape. Steve called out, "Go ahead and move around a bit, Ilsa. Let him see what the computer can do."
The first thing she moved was her tongue, to stick it out at Steve. Then she started moving her arms and legs around. The computer quickly converted her motions, to the motions of the image on the screen.
"This is one of my favorites," Steve said and tapped in another command. Instead of the black lycra suit, there was a form-fitting white suit with a rainbow arm band on one arm, and a black band on the other. She was also wearing a tight black belt with an odd looking gun down hanging from it.
