Pretty much everyone's career starts the same way: with grunt work. Not just the cliched fetching of coffee, but other lowly tasks: taking notes in meetings, preparing paperwork, scheduling, intensive research - even flat-out doing our bosses' work for them.
What's the most fetching thing that provokes people? A volcano? Fountains that dance? A pirate ship that sinks? Some other animated device or presentation? Is that as strong as mystery? Allure, intrigue, is much more powerful... It taunts you.
[Ripley and David are fetching Quinitricetyline for coating the prison tunnels]
David: I saw a drum of this stuff fall into a beach head bunker once. The blast put a tug in dry dock for seventeen weeks. Great stuff!
Jungle Julia: Sorry, it was a one-time only offer and she did it earlier this evening at Anton's.
Stuntman Mike: No, she didn't.
Arlene: How do you know?
Stuntman Mike: I'm good that way. And you look a little touchéd.
Arlene: What's touchéd?
Stuntman Mike:
Wounded, slightly.
Arlene: Why should I be wounded?
Stuntman Mike: Because you expected guys to be pestering you all night, but from your look I can tell nobody pestered you at all. That kind of hurt your feelings a little bit, didn't it? There are few things as fetching as a bruised ego on a beautiful angel.
Arlene: [Arlene
smiles] Hmm.
Stuntman Mike: [slowly] So, how about that lap dance?
Arlene: I think I'm going to have to give you a rain check.
Stuntman Mike: Well, since you'll be leaving in the next couple of days, that rain check will be worthless. But that's okay. I understand if I make you uncomfortable. You're still a nice girl, and I
still like you. But I must warn you of something -- you know how people say...
Stuntman Mike: [does an exaggerated Kurt Russell voice-impression] You're okay in my book, or In my book, that's no good?
Stuntman Mike: [goes back to his regular voice] Well, I actually HAVE a book.
Stuntman Mike: [he pulls out a little book from
his back pocket] And everybody I ever meet goes in this book. And, now I've met you, YOU'RE going in the book! Except, I'm afraid I must file you... under... chicken shit.
[shows the open book to her]
Arlene: [grabbing the book from him] And what if I did it?
Stuntman Mike: Well, I definitely couldn't file you under chicken shit then, now
could I?
Arlene: What's your name again?
Stuntman Mike: [softly] Stuntman Mike.
Arlene: Well, Stuntman Mike, I'm Butterfly. My friend Jungle Julia over here says that jukebox inside is pretty impressive.
Stuntman Mike: Yeah, it is.
Arlene: Yeah.
Arlene:
[she hands Stuntman Mike his book back] Why don't you get ready for your lapdance?