Nobiz Like Showbiz

The two of us crept onto the back lot with a video camera at the start of the holiday weekend when we knew we wouldn't be interrupted. It isn't as hard as you would think - large sections of the lot have been abandoned but left standing as a testament to the golden age, and the remaining facades still had their occasional uses, though our particular uses fell a-ways outside the realm of good taste.

We walked past parked cars with white-wall tires and motionless barber poles and subway entrances that led nowhere until we found the quiet suburban street we were looking for. Everywhere we looked were familiar homes, their grey-and-green monochrome tint abandoned for the luxury of living in color.

Everything was covered in dust.

She pointed.

"Look. The Cleaver's lawn." She grinned.

I set up the tripod, and she slipped out of her skirt.