Ack. Anyway. Frank's, like, "All I'm saying is, they call wrap? I get done, and I get out of here. Fast." And with that, he finishes coiling cable, or whatever he'd been doing, and lumbers out of the scene. The Brody Actor cracks an unfunny about Frank being off his meds. Tara and her wall-eye and her lip gloss snicker.

A few moments later, Tara's hanging out beneath that water tower from "Crossroad Blues" in front of a full-moon backdrop in a secluded corner of the set with a set of script pages in her hand, running through a few different line readings. In a sequence of events that rather neatly mirrors the one we opened on, Tara suddenly hears some unexpected forest noises emerging from the fake underbrush around her, and wanders deeper into the elaborate woodland set with an amused expression on her face, calling out, "Guys? Come on -- it's not funny." As she comes in sight of a set of scaffolding against the far wall, the vague forest noises coagulate into the sound of a man gasping for air. Increasingly wary, she nevertheless continues along the fake forest path towards the edge of the set until a familiar-looking trucker cap lands at her feet from somewhere far above. Tara cranes back her neck, and her expression slides quickly from vaguely apprehensive annoyance to increasingly shock-witted terror as a shadowy and transparent figure up in the rafters blinks out with the lights, leaving behind the limp and corpse of Ole Grizzly Frank, tangled up in the wiring thirty feet above the stage. We get a quick close-up on his gore-bestreaked face before the camera dives down into Tara's gaping mouth as she lets loose with a full-throated and almost endless howl of horror that echoes throughout the soundstage. Over at the monitors, the unctuous director looks up from his notebook and obliviously grins, "Now, that's what I'm talking about!" and in lieu of an actual rim-shot, that punchline's punctuated by the METAL TEETH CHOMP!