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rip through the studio in glorious cell phone mono. Monty clamps his hands onto his ears.
    â€œDamn! I feel sorry for the kid but turn that crap music off!”
    The fan-cam footage blinks out and Angela is reframed, taking center stage on her half of the screen.
    â€œSorry, Monty. We know that Michael is a graduate of Columbia. He was living in Los Angeles until the death of his parents three years ago…” Angela disappears mid-sentence. The camera focuses completely on Monty. He shakes his head, feigning disgust.
    â€œThis poor kid can’t catch a break! We’ll be right back.”
    The building itself is nondescript and is located in a desolate warehouse district that resembles a ghost town this late at night. It is small, gray and only a single story high. The entranceway, though, lets the casual observer know that this might be someplace special. A large LCD screen monitor is affixed above the spartan gray door. It plays clips from The Orzo the Clown Show , promotional commercials for the DVD, and other Orzo-abelia on a continuous loop. The logo painted on the window explains it all. It reads “Clownin’ Around Productions.”
    That door opens into a hallway lined with posters and prints of classic Orzo moments from the television show or candid moments from public appearances. The hallway eventually leads to a small group of offices and an editing bay with a few Macs, monitors and sound gear. One of the walls is covered in green screen fabric. All in all, the set up is a decent make-shift studio for small projects.
    The largest office, set at the mouth of the hallway, features the only resident still in the building. All others have left for the night. Dan Prescott, Jr. sits behind a large desk. He has a cell phone to his ear but squints at a large monitor screen. The computer in front of him has two different posters pulled up, each of them featuring a version of the Orzo the Clown DVD.
    â€œLook. I just said I need the copy changed on the first poster…and just scrap the second one, okay?” Dan spins around in the chair, grimacing at what he’s hearing on the other end of the line. “I said, and I quote, scrap the second one, it’s shit, all right?”
    Dan snaps the phone shut and slams it on the desk.
    â€œGood. Bye. Bitch.”
    Dan spins back around to the posters. He exits out of the image software and into an e-mail program. He types in silence.
    The sound of shuffling comes from somewhere in the studio. It is faint, but loud enough to register. Dan stops typing and looks up. He knows he is the only one here, the DVD hasn’t sold enough to hire anyone; it is just him and the part-time intern.
    Slightly louder, a little closer, the same shuffling sound comes from the studio area this time. Dan looks up and his eyes narrow. This sound is unmistakable. He stares out into the gloom of the office.
    â€œHello?” Dan asks the nothingness as he stands up, still trying to make something out in the dark. He looks down quickly, trying to find…ahh, scissors. From an Orzo the Clown coffee mug Dan snatches a pair of scissors. He holds them in front of his body like a weapon.
    â€œI know someone’s there, all right? I got the death threats, very nice! This DVD is coming out! No. Matter. What.” Dan announces. He listens for something, anything in return. A taunt, kids smashing windows, anything. He waits a moment, then another longer moment.
    The shuffling returns, much louder than before. Dan jumps at the sound since it feels so close. This time, though, it ends with a thump. Dan, slightly panicked, has seen quite a bit so far in life and isn’t about to let some jerk off frighten him out of his birth right. After taking a deep breath, Dan moves toward the sound.
    The lights go out and Dan stops short.
    â€œShit!”
    Outside the studio, the power outage has an effect. The LCD screen and lighted sign flicker and blacken. There is a