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(The Premiere, continued...)

“What we’re going to do,” Matt says, “is take what’s going round inside your head and turn it into something external and powerful.

A few seconds later, you are repeating: “Scarlett Watson finds me attractive and irresistible. Scarlett Watson finds me attractive and irresistible.”

Matt’s date keeps banging on the door, but you are so focused on the chant that soon the sound of her fist on wood seems very far away.


Later, you’re still chanting, murmuring quietly and receiving funny looks, as Scarlett’s car pulls up to the red carpet. A guy in a top hat and tails moves swiftly to the car and opens the door.

Scarlett Watson swings her legs out, knees together, standing smoothly in a well-practiced action. No candid photos for her in tomorrow’s gutter press. The paparazzi are blasting her with flash photography, but she smiles through it all, not looking at them, but at her fans in the crowd who are screaming and begging for autographs or just to be touched or looked at.

When she has paused for the customary length of time for photographs, she begins walking up the red carpet towards the movie theater, which is when you increase the volume of your chant.

“Scarlett Watson finds me attractive and irresistible …” Even though she is in ear shot, she merely frowns at you and keeps moving.

Disappointed, you add a second phrase that Matt gave you in case the mantra didn’t have an immediate effect.

“Balla, ahk-du. Scarlett ahk-du, kum-balla.”

Scarlett’s perfect smile straightens out and she looks at you as if you’ve just called her by a childhood nickname that you couldn’t possibly know.

The flash bulbs are still going as she retraces her steps along the red carpet and then leaves it in order to come to you. The fans around you scream, but she only has her eyes on you.

“You and I,” she says. “We’re leaving. Now.”

You hop over the railing.

A security guard all in black approaches.

“Dah klak,” you announce, and he stops in his tracks. “Sweet. It works.”

“It sure does,” says Scarlett and now the guy in top hat and tails is looking perplexed but he’s opening the door of the car once more so you and Scarlett can pile into the back seat.

“Er, what’s going on?” asks the driver.

“I’m not sure,” says Scarlett, flustered. “This is …”

“Horatio,” you say.

“Well, where to, Horatio?” the driver asks.

Scarlett turns to you.

“Where do you want me?” she asks.