Summer Girl || A Shourtney Story

.02 pilots flying with nowhere to be

We had a slow start this morning because the life-sized cardboard cutouts had arrived on-site late. This caused a very stressed out Sarah Wittle to run around the premise like a chicken with its head cut off, while a calmer, more appeased Matt Raub suggested simply that we pushed back filming from 10 am to noon.

Sleeping in was the perfect way to remedy a long day. Yesterday, once the cast had arrived at the site, we were immediately whisked off to costuming and makeup to start filming the trailer. The whole affair lasted the entire day, and I dragged my feet into bed as soon as we were free after dinner. The extra few hours of sleep of recovery this morning made a world of difference.

I soon regretted taking those extra hours of sleep when we started filming the Zombie Punishment Shoot Out. It was hot. And I mean really, really hot. The kind of heat that made parts of my body that I had forgotten about drip with sweat. We all had dressed in our team uniforms and I could feel my t-shirt dampening with moisture with every passing minute.

After lining up in front of our life-sized targets, we began to prepare for the shoot.

"You ready?" Shayne whispered next to me when we had our one-minute countdown to filming.

"I'm coming for you, Chris Pratt." I pointed my index and middle fingers toward my eyes and then pointed toward the cardboard cutout ahead as if to say I'm watching you.

Shayne chuckled lightly.

Wes was the first to take on the challenge. After a surprising misfire, he ended up hitting a target for 500 points. His punishment was declared to be an atomic wet willy.

"What the heck is that?" I said, furrowing my brow.

My stomach dropped as I saw a drill with a fake tongue for a bit in the hands of the referee. Despite the disgusting proposition, Wes took the punishment like the champ that we all knew that he was. Toxicitea was already off to an early lead.

My turn was next, and I was wary of a misfire. I desperately wanted to pull a win for the team – it would be good to have a head-start in the games. I made a mental note to thank Matt Raub for putting me on Lasercorn's team. That man was a good luck charm if I ever saw one.

"Courtney, who are you aiming for?" Matt asked me as I approached the shooting area. I shielded the sun from my eyes as I scanned the scene in front of me.

Several life-sized cutouts were scattered across the desert, ranging in size and distance. The sun's gleam shone across them, creating a light glare across the back row. It would make the most sense to target a closer image to get a headshot and score more points. I doubted that I could get the squirrel, so this was the next best thing.

I sighed. "Y'know, my three faves are up in front..." I analyzed the images in the front row. Between the three, Chris Pratt or seemed to be the largest target. After a brief moment, I quickly decided that my celebrity crush would be the best target to take down.

"Y'know what? I'm just going to pretend this is cupid's arrow and aim for Chris Pratt's head," I decided. My heart rose with nervousness.

A cheer erupted from the sidelines in support as I lined up my shot. The crossbow was heavier than expected, and it wavered in my hand slightly, trembling with the unexpected balance of the object. I pointed to the Starlord image with feigned anger, adding, "This is what you get for marrying another woman!"

With a few comments on the sidelines, my mind wandered. I felt the bright pink fabric cling to my body with a damp sweat. Noah muttered some witty remark and it caused stifled giggles from Keith and Olivia, who stood nearby him. As I released the trigger, I heard a gentle thump as my arrow hit the sand. Shot number one – missed.