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Elevator: Going down?
The elevator door chimed open and Juno slowly waddled in.
“Well, you are very pregnant!” Jim Gaffigan said with a deep chuckle.
“Hey buddy, I’m a sacred vessel. All you have in your stomach is Taco Bell,” Juno said with a sarcastic smile.
“Well, actually, it’s a Hoooooot Pocket!” he said singing the commercial jingle. “I had one for breakfast, one for lunch, and I’ll be dead by dinner.”
With that remark the slender, quirky looking man from the corner of the elevator let out a laugh.
“Hey! Aren’t you Quentin Tarantino?” Juno said studying the camera slung over his shoulder.
“Why, yes I am,” he said quickly while adjusting the shoulder strap of his camera.
Suddenly the elevator lurched and stopped in between the third and fourth floor of the building. The lights flickered off and on until Juno slammed the alarm button and the emergency lights flashed on.
Juno, holding her belly bump said nervously, “Thunder cats are go! My water just broke!”
With a wheeze from Gaffigan and an excited gasp from Tarantino, the two went to work helping Juno sit down.
“Could you turn your face toward the light?” Tarantino said holding Juno’s chin and wiping the sweat off of her forehead with his sleeve. “Oh, and maybe try sweating a little bit less, we don’t want you looking shiny on camera.”
“Yeah, okay, no big deal. I’ll just try that,” Juno said, trying to make a joke.
“You know, I usually like to take the easy way in life, which is why I took the elevator, but I guess we all should have taken the escalator today,” Gaffigan said, clearly uncomfortable.
“This baby is going to come…right now…in this damn elevator,” Juno said, struggling between contractions.
Tarantino, still trying to film the whole ordeal, side stepped to get a panoramic shot of the elevator and said, “Hey, Juno, I need more screaming, more drama, more…blood.”
“Whoa, dream big, Tarantino! Why don’t you drop the camera and help me!” Juno said, frustrated that she even had to ask.
“I wonder if the baby will look like you?!” Gaffigan said while holding Juno’s hand.
“Yeah, that’s the idea,” Juno said, focusing on anything but the contractions.
“I think it’s kind of funny, it’s like we are taking hundreds of years of medical knowledge and just throwing it out the window! Let’s just wing it!” Gaffigan said, wincing from Juno’s grip on his arm.
Tarantino, finally deciding to help, pulled out a tripod from his bag and set the camera on it. “I guess I finally get to be a star in my own film.”
“It’s time!” Juno screamed out in pain.
Throughout the next ten minutes, Juno struggled and pushed while Gaffigan and Tarantino switched off holding Juno’s hand and following instructions from an EMT on a cell phone. Then, a baby boy was presented to Juno wrapped in a shred of Tarantino’s shirt.
“Oh, thank you so much,” Juno said with tears in her eyes. “He’s so beautiful.”
“The baby looks just like me! Well I guess with my pudgy, bald head any baby looks like me,” Gaffigan said with a cheesy grin.
“What a glorious little b******,” Tarantino said, inspecting the film he had just taken out of the camera.
With that, the elevator door opened once again and the four new, unexpected friends all laughed, even the newborn baby boy.