Super Trick or Treat System

"I just want to know who is watching the rehearsal. I think I have a perfect claim." "Exactly correct," Hammersmith said, nodding slightly, his lips turning into a shallow bow.

Galloway said: "Some people say that the KMT is coming." "My agent is arranging something. I just don't want anyone to come in without my knowledge. Especially when they are important." Hammersmith has already Restudying these figures. His voice is tired.

"Terry: If someone comes to you from the South Bank, I promise you, you will be the first to be told. Okay?"

This bend is too bloody. What a little boy. Galloway is eager to beat him.

"Unless I get my permission, I don't want people to watch the rehearsal, Hammersmith. Do you hear my voice? I want to know who is today."

The manager sighed heavily.

"Trust me, Terry," he said, "I don't know myself. I suggest you ask Tallulah-she is in front of the house this afternoon. If anyone comes in, she must have seen it."

He sighed again.

"Well... Terry?"

Calloway just left. He has doubts about Hammersmith. The man didn't dare to fall in love with the theater at first sight, he had never said that absolutely simple thing. Whenever money is mentioned, he will use a tired tone, as if aesthetic issues are not under his attention. He said a word to both the actor and the director, yelling: Butterfly. One day wonder. In the world of Hammersmith, only money is forever, and the Elysium Theater stands on the golden ground. If he plays the right cards, then a wise person can make a considerable profit. Galloway was sure that if he could manipulate it, he would sell the place tomorrow. With the development of Birmingham, a satellite city like this does not need theaters, it needs offices, large supermarkets, and warehouses: it needs to quote the words of the congressman to achieve growth through investment in new industries. It also needs a basic site to build the industry. Pure art cannot survive this kind of pragmatism.

Tallulah was neither in the box, nor in the lounge, nor in the green room.

Galloway was annoyed by Hammersmith's weakness and Tallulah's disappearance. He returned to the auditorium to pick up his coat and got drunk. The rehearsal is over and the actors are no longer there. From the back row of the stall, the bare hedge looked a little small. Maybe they need a few extra inches. He wrote a note on the back of the performance bill he found in his pocket: Is the hedge still big?

The sound of footsteps made him look up, and a character appeared on the stage. The tree-lined smooth entrance is located in the center of the stage. Galloway didn't know this man.

"Sir... Galloway? Sir... Terrence Galloway?"

"Yes?"

The visitor walked off the stage to the place where there were footlights earlier, and stood looking at the auditorium.

"I'm sorry to disturb your thoughts."

"no problem."

"I want a word."

"with me?"

"if you are willing to."

Galloway hovered in front of the booth and assessed the stranger.

He wears shades of gray from head to toe. Gray worsted suit, gray shoes, gray bow tie. , Is Galloway's first charity summary. However, this person still left a deep impression. His face was difficult to recognize in the shadows on the edges.

"Allow me to introduce myself."

The voice is convincing and cultural. Ideal for ad narration: maybe a soap ad. After Hammersmith's bad behavior, the voice came as a good breeding.

"My name is Litchfield. I don't want this to mean much to your young people."

Gentle years: well, well. Maybe there are some child prodigies on his face.

"Are you a critic?" Galloway asked.

The laughter from under the crystal-clear hat gradually became ironic.

"In the name of Jesus, no," Lichfield replied.

"Sorry, then, you leave me at a loss."

"No need to apologize."

"Are you at home this afternoon?"

Litchfield ignored the question. "I realize you are a busy person, sir... Galloway, I don't want to waste your time. The theater is my business, it's yours. I think we must consider our allies, even though we have never seen Come across." Ah, great brotherhood. The well-known saying made Galloway want to spit. When he thought of many so-called allies happily stabbing him in the back; in return, he smiled at work as a playwright, casually jokes about his obsessed actors. Damn the Brotherhood, it's dogs eating dogs, like any oversubscribed occupation.

Lichfield said: "I have always been interested in Elysium." The word strange has always been weird, it sounds like Lichfield's funeral on the lips, living with me.

"Oh?"

"Yes, over the years, I have spent a lot of happy time in this theater. Frankly speaking, it is painful to bear this burden of news."

"What's new?"

"Mr. Galloway, I must inform you that your twelfth night will be the last work seen in Elysium." The statement was not unexpected, but it was still painful. The internal cringes must have been in Carlo Wei's face was exposed.

"Ah...so you don't know. I don't think so. They always make artists ignorant, don't they? Satisfied that the Apollonians never give up. The accountant's revenge."

"Hammersmith," Galloway said.

"Hammersmith."

"Asshole."

"His clan will never be trusted, but then I hardly need to tell you."

"Are you sure to close?"

"Of course. If he can, he will do it tomorrow."

"But why? I've done Tennessee Williams here-always playing in a good house. It doesn't make sense." "I'm afraid this has admirable financial significance, if it's like Hammersmith, from the numbers. Look, simple arithmetic is impeccable. Elysium is aging. We are all aging. We are squeaking. Our joints: our instinct is to lie down and walk away."

Disappeared: the voice becomes faint in the melody, whispers of desire.

"How did you know?"

"For many years, I have been the trustee of the theater. Since retiring, I have turned my career into-what do you mean?-stay vigilant. In today's era, it is difficult to evoke that this stage has seen victory..." His voice disappeared in the reverie. It seems to be a fact, not an effect.

Then, once again, like an official business: "This theater is dying, Mr. Galloway. You will be present at the final ceremony. It is by no means your own fault. I think I should be warned."

"Thank you. I appreciate it. Tell me, have you ever been an actor yourself?"

"What makes you have that idea?"

"sound."

"I know it's too exaggerated. I'm afraid it's my curse. I can hardly sound like Lille in a storm and want a cup of coffee."

He laughed at his own expense. Galloway began to feel warm to the guy. Maybe he looks a little quaint or even absurd, but his behavior is full of blood, which aroused Galloway's imagination. Litchfield did not apologize for his love of drama, just like many people in the industry, they boarded the board of directors as unparalleled in the world, and their souls were sold to movies.

Richfield said frankly: "I have admitted, I dabbled a little," but I am afraid I have no stamina. Now my wife-"

wife? Galloway was surprised that Lichfield had heterosexual bones in his body.

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