"OK, I'll try."Joan had been tossing and turning all night, the angry words she heard on the set the day before still ringing in her ears.
‘You're in the wrong spot! . . . No, strum the harp like this! . . . Just once, could you hit your mark! . . . Why is it that the most beautiful ones are always the biggest pains in the . . .’
"AAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!"
The beautiful brunette actress sat upright in bed, after the very audible gasp left her luscious lips. She glanced over and noticed that the sudden, but brief, noise apparently had awoken her husband, who looked up at her groggily.
"Is everything all right, flower?"
"Yes, I'm all right, Tony. It's just that, ohhhh, that director I've had to work with! He's driving me bonkers!"
"You only have a few more days of shooting left. Don't worry about it so much. Go back to sleep."
"OK, I'll try."
Again, though, all she could hear was the director's voice . . .
‘No, this is the line you were looking for . . . Could you stop striking the other actors with your hair? . . . You're leading him to his death because you are a siren . . . a siren . . . a siren . . . a siren . . .’
With those last two words still ringing in her ears, the confused and drowsy beauty got out of bed. She just wanted to scream, but she didn't want to wake the rest of her family.
So, she descended the stairs to the family's furnished basement, closed the door behind her, climbed to the bottom of the steps and opened her mouth.
The sound that came out, however, wasn't a scream. It wasn't at all what she expected.
‘What is THAT? Where have I heard that before?' she thought as a high-pitched, metallic whine escaped her lips.
Then she remembered where she'd heard that noise.
'No, it can't be! That's the sound I'm supposed to make when I'm . . . when I'm . . . the Siren!'
Joan looked around, wide-eyed. She didn't think she had awakened anyone.
'Better make sure they're all still asleep,' she decided.
She went back upstairs and double-checked. Everything seemed all right. Apparently, no one else had heard the bizarre sound that had come out of her mouth.
‘So, what now?
'Am I really the Siren?' she thought, as she felt a strange tingling deep in her throat. 'This isn't possible! How can this be?'
She sat on the couch, deep in thought, as the tingling sensation grew stronger and stronger.
'But if I really am the Siren . . .'
She knew exactly what had to be done.
A few minutes later, after checking on her still-sleeping children once again, Joan was on the road in her green, Jaguar coupe. She was wearing her own mesh dress and mesh skirt, the same clothes she had worn a few days earlier during a scene as Lorelei Circe.
It wasn't a long drive to the Fox-Culver studios, where Batman was filmed. If she could just get into Stage 16, she could find the address she was seeking.
The night-shift guard was on detail at the security booth. He seemed a bit surprised to see a famous actress at this hour.
"Good evening, or morning, I suppose," Joan said as she spoke from the car through her rolled-down window.
"What brings you here at this hour, ma'am?" asked the guard, who clearly recognized her.
"Well, I've been working on the Batman set and I think I might have left something there yesterday. I was hoping I could get in and have a look."
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but we can't have people walking around unattended, even if they are famous." He shook his head, but offered, "I could have the guard who is on patrol escort you."
‘Being led around by someone will be inadequate,’ Joan thought.
She didn't want to do it to him, but he was leaving her no choice.
There was a small parking lot just beyond the gate, empty at this time of night. “I’ll tell you what. Let me pull into the car park over there, but don’t call the guard on patrol just yet. Before you call him, I have something, just for you.” The actress flashed her most winning and seductive smile.
Although it was against the guard’s better judgment, he succumbed to the woman’s natural charms. ‘I can’t see any harm in letting her just park,’ he rationalized. ‘She doesn’t appear drunk or anything.’
“All right, ma’am,” he announced as he got out of the booth and raised the gate. “Park your car, then come straight over here.”
“Certainly, sir.” She put the Jag into gear and expertly guided it into the nearest parking space.
She slipped out of the car and walked back toward the security booth. The guard had gotten back inside. From the look on his face it was obvious he was surprised, but not displeased, at the star’s outfit.
“Now, what is it you have for me?” he asked.
"I'm sorry I have to do this, young man," Joan said, frowning.
The guard looked at her warily, not knowing what to expect. Instead of pulling out a weapon, however, the English actress merely opened her mouth.
She hesitated. At the last second, she was struck by doubt. ‘If this doesn’t work, I’m going to feel terribly silly.
‘Oh, well.’
"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee"
The guard stared at her, in shock from the stunning note.
'So, what comes next?' Joan thought. Then she remembered the Siren's line from when she hypnotized Commissioner Gordon. 'Why not?'
She looked into the guard's vacant eyes. "Now, sir, you are ready to do my bidding."
"Your wish is my command."
It wasn't quite the same reply given by the Commissioner, but it was close enough.
"Now, sir," Joan said in her most authoritative voice, "you will give me the keys to Stage 16-" then she had an inspiration "-and 15 – all of them. Is that understood?"
"Yes, ma'am. Here they are," he said, sliding a large set of keys across the counter to the alluring actress.
"Thank you so very much. Now, which one unlocks the main door to Stage 16, and which one unlocks the door to the executive producer's office?"
"This one and that one," the guard said, pointing to each in turn.
"And what about Stage 15?"
He pointed at another key. "This one unlocks the main door."
"Thank you again. I promise I will return these when I am done. Oh, and you are not to alert anyone else as to what has taken place. Is that understood?"
The guard nodded. Joan smiled and walked briskly toward Stage 16.
There she gained access through the main door. She knew the producer's offices were upstairs, so she quickly went up the steps and found the executive producer's office.
After unlocking the door, she began looking feverishly through file cabinets for a listing of names and addresses of directors used by the show. She finally found the one for which she was looking and quickly scribbled the address on a nearby piece of paper. The home was only a few miles from the studio, nestled in the Hollywood hills.
She left Stage 16 and was passing by Stage 15.
'I got what I needed,' she thought, 'but if I can find the wardrobe room . . .' She unlocked the door to Stage 15.
'I really should be in full costume for the director!' she decided, smiling. 'After all, I wouldn't want to make him angry.'
She found the room and went through the keys, trying each until she found the correct one. Finally, on the fourth try, the key fit and the door opened.
There in the room were racks and racks of outrageous villain and villainess outfits, with the Siren's two silver outfits in the front rack. Nearby was a black Catwoman costume, obviously tailored for someone several inches taller than the 5-foot-6 British actress.
Still, Joan couldn't help wondering.
'Hmmmm. How would I look in that?' She quickly shook her head. ‘It just wouldn't work for me.’
‘There’s no time to try on anything else, anyway. I don't know how long I will have this newfound ability, so I need to change clothes as quickly as possible.’
She grabbed the silver goddess dress with the shoulder strap, because it was the one that exemplified the character the most. Next to the two silver outfits was a garish purple dress with three horizontal orange stripes, with a matching hat on a nearby rack.
'How dreadful an outfit is THAT? Of course, it wouldn’t look too bad on me, but I'm so glad that ensemble isn't in MY script.'
She continued to rummage through the room, until she found the Siren's accessories: a pair of multi-layered, silver earrings, a shimmering silver bracelet for her left arm and a pair of Greco-Roman-style sandals with straps. She put on the dress, then added the earrings, bracelet and sandals.
"This ensemble feels SO comfortable without the wig. Wow! I could get used to this," she said to nobody in particular. She quickly put her hand over her mouth, startled that she had made that last statement out loud.
"I guess it's all right," she said, giggling. "Sirens are supposed to be loud."
She closed the door to the room on her way out, but didn't lock it, and did the same with the main door itself. She found her way back to the parking lot, then got into her car and rolled toward the gate.
“Please let me by, my good man.”
The still-mesmerized guard did as he was told, getting out of the booth and tipping up the gate.
"Get back in your booth. I will see you again shortly," she said as she waved to the guard on her way out. "Cheerio."
The man did as he was told. He watched her pass, but was silent.
Joan was going faster than she usually drove as her sports car roared toward the director's house. It was a bit awkward driving a stick-shift with Greco-Roman sandals, but not too difficult.
‘I guess I had better slow down a little,’ she decided. ‘I really don’t think I want to try this power out on a bobby.’
Soon, she reached her destination. It was a large, two-story house, with a huge lawn in front.
'How many actresses and actors has he humiliated to get a house like this?' she wondered as she walked from the driveway to the front door.
The house was large, but not so big to lead the actress to expect there to be servants on duty all night. Her supposition was correct.
Upon hearing the doorbell, the house's owner clambered out of bed, threw on a bathrobe and went downstairs to see who was there. The director was unprepared for the vision at his front door.
Naturally, he recognized the actress, but was shocked at what she was wearing. He had been sound asleep, but now was wide awake.
"Joan, why are you dressed like that?! And what are you doing here at this hour?!!"
"Well, George, may I come in for a moment? I wanted to go over my performance.”
"I don't want to wake up the rest of my family," he responded as he tried to maintain his composure.
"I agree. That’s quite considerate. Could we then talk in the garage, perhaps? I promise you, what I have to say won't take very long."
"All right, but I still don't understand why you came in costume."
"I'm just trying to get into my character more," the beautiful Brit said as they went into the garage. "I know you haven't been all that pleased with my performance."
The director chose not to react to her observation. "Let's get down to business, please," he said, sitting on a chaise lounge that had been stored in the garage. "What exactly do you want?"
"I just want to deliver a message to you."
Joan still wasn’t sure what had happened. After her encounter with the security guard, however, she now had confidence that this would work. She opened her mouth and a high-pitched note was emitted.
Within seconds, the director was staring at Joan with a blank expression.
"Now, George, you are under my spell," Joan said, her voice overflowing with self-assuredness. "You will do anything I command."
"Yes, Joan, I will do anything you command."
'Before I give him a little attitude adjustment,' she thought, 'I should have a little sport with him. It's a small price for him to pay for everything he has put me through!’
She again turned her attention to the dazed director.
"Bark like a dog," Joan commanded.
"Woof, woof, woof," was his reply. The actress smiled broadly.
She knew her next request was even more cliched, but she didn't care.
"Act like a chicken," she ordered.
"BAAAAHHHK! BAAAAHHHK! BAAAAHHHK! BGAWKKKKK!" he exclaimed, getting up from his seat and strutting about, flapping his arms.
Joan laughed loudly before finally regaining her composure. She thought, ‘I’m glad we retired to the garage!’
She regarded the director coldly. "Stop! Enough of that," she commanded. "Sit down."
He stopped clucking and flapping and quickly took a seat.
"I am quite tired of you constantly berating myself and other performers. It is quite unfair. All of us are professionals, trying to do the best we can. Demeaning us will not improve our performances. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Joan, I understand."
"I hope that you are sorry."
"Yes, Joan, I am quite sorry," he replied, as an apologetic look formed on his face.
"Good. I am glad to hear it. You will no longer engage in such behaviour. Instead, you will treat actresses and actors with the respect they deserve. Is that understood?"
"I understand, Joan," he replied, nodding.
"Good. I will leave in a moment. You will remember nothing of our meeting, except you will have an overwhelming desire to be courteous and professional at all times on the set, even when you think someone has made a mistake. Is that clear?"
"Very clear, ma'am."
"I'm so glad we were able to work out our difficulties. You will now go back to bed and go to sleep, and when you awaken in a couple of hours, you no longer will be in a trance."
"I understand," he said and left the garage.
The gorgeous actress walked out of the garage to her car. She got into the Jaguar and drove away.
'I'd better return all of this,' she thought as she drove back to the studio.
She passed the same guard, who, still dazed, had left the gate up. This time she drove right to Stage 15. She went to the wardrobe room and changed back into her street clothes. She made sure to look all of the doors with the proper keys, and then drove back to the guard booth.
"You may awaken now," she said to the guard after tossing the large set of keys back to him across the counter. He nodded politely, as if nothing unusual had happened.
“Cheerio,” Joan said before she drove back home. Fortunately, everyone was still sleeping, so she put on her nightgown and crawled back under the covers.
She woke up two hours later and noticed her throat felt a bit sore. She yawned just as her husband awoke alongside her.
"Rough night?" he asked.
"You don't know the half of it, Tony. I had this bizarre dream I went to that awful director's house and confronted him."
"Where did you get those earrings?"
"What earrings?" Joan replied as she reached for her right ear and grabbed a hand mirror. She was wearing multi-layered, silver earrings, the ones she had on while portraying the Siren. She then felt something on her left arm, and noticed she also was wearing the Siren's silver bracelet.
'Hmmmm. I wonder . . . .' A smile creased Joan's beautiful face.
On the set, later that day, George had nothing but praise for her and the other actors.
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