"Right, now you know the sequence, kid, so try not to screw up!" warned the director in the same aggressive bullying tone. "You stand next to the throne at attention and when the queen comes in you bow real low. Remember, you're a miserable slave, and you ain't never been anything but a stupid slave and this lady can have your head chopped off anytime she feels like it, so you're respectful, right? Okay, as soon as Kelly gets her queenly ass on that throne, she nods at you and you serve her a drink from that tray, right? She takes the drink and downs it, but she's still hot so she stands up and has you take off her robe, remember? After that you know what to do. Okay, let's see if we can get through the sequence without somebody dropping their false teeth. Slave girl? Where the hell is the fucking slave girl?"
"I'm here," she volunteered weakly as the director glared furiously in her direction.
"She's new at this," advised Phil Agard from behind the camera. "Take it easy on her Lenny, okay?"
"All right, all right," moaned the ill-tempered director. "Why didn't you tell me this was going to be amateur night? Look honey, that big handsome slave up there is your boyfriend and you don't wanna share him with anyone, including the queen, but she can chop your head off just as easy as pie, so when she starts fucking around with your man, you ain't in a position to protest, got it? But that don't mean you can't look mad once in awhile. And that's all you gotta do, stand there and look irritated, and we'll get you an Oscar. Now get out of that stupid fucking towel and stand on the other side of the throne!"