Page 67 of Haunted Spurs

[REC – RAW FOOTAGE: BEHIND THE SCENES, HAIR & MAKEUP TENT]

Three production assistants are staring at three wooden toothpicks sticking out of a technician's closed fist.

"Whoever draws the short straw is the killer," the tech says.

One of the guys closes his eyes, reaches out, and pulls. The toothpick is tiny.

The guy stares at the piece of wood, then looks over at the heavy, foul-smelling black slicker stained with corn syrup and the raw leather mask. He drops his head back. "No... please. Have you seen how huge those guys are? They're gonna kick my ass. Fuck me."

[CUT]

[REC – FIXED CAMERA 04: WEST WING BATHROOM]

The frame is fogged up with steam, showing the blurred silhouettes of Dustin and Sierra under the running water, fused together in a tangle of limbs that is definitely pushing way past a PG-13 rating.

The bathroom door creaks open silently. The PA, geared up in the full killer costume, peeks his head in. He expects to scare them half to death, but instead, he freezes for three solid seconds, visibly awkward and embarrassed by what he's watching live.

Finally, he raises the plastic axe and bangs it twice, hard, against the glass of the shower stall.

Dustin yells. Sierra shrieks, grabbing a towel to cover herself up.

[CONFESSIONAL: DUSTIN AND SIERRA]

They're sitting in the behind-the-scenes RV, wrapped up in warm fleece blankets provided by production. Between them is a giant bowl of buttered popcorn. They are watching a monitor broadcasting the other contestants' live escape with rapt attention.

Sierra sighs, chewing on a piece of popcorn. "Okay, I'll admit it... I'm a little bummed we got eliminated first. It was just getting fun."

Dustin nods, grabbing a handful of popcorn. "Man, at first I was kind of pissed that you guys were spying on us while we were having shower sex... but, well, thinking about it now, it was actually kind of a turn-on." He looks dead into the camera, grinning. "And, by the way... that fake head? Damn, it looks exactly like me! The beard, the nose I broke in that 2004 rodeo. How the hell did you guys replicate it so well?"

They exchange a look loaded with wicked intent.

[Slate claps.]

The shot lingers for a couple of seconds as Dustin and Sierra completely ignore the camera and go right back to making out passionately, knocking the popcorn bowl onto the floor.

[CUT]

[REC – FIXED CAMERA 07: KITCHEN, INFRARED]

Behind the half-open door of the large pantry, the camera operator—framed by a fixed ceiling lens—is clutching his heavy gear to his chest and... chewing slowly. He's holding a massive ham and cheese sandwich.

From the other side of the door, in the dark kitchen, comes the click-clack of dog nails on the hardwood. Sniff. Sniff. Ollie's wet snout pokes through the crack in the door, sniffing frantically. The operator's eyes go wide in the dark. He stops chewing. He breaks into a cold sweat.

The sound of footsteps (Ron and Selene approaching) distracts the dog.

[CONFESSIONAL: CAMERAMAN]

The tech scratches the back of his neck out from under his baseball cap, looking a little mortified.

"Fuck... that Labrador almost busted me," he admits, shaking his head. "But, hey... I was hungry. I'd been locked in there for four hours. How was I supposed to know he had a built-in radar for my ham sandwich?"

[Slate claps.]

Quick B-roll. Morning light floods the kitchen floor. Ollie is wagging his tail happier than ever, triumphantly chewing on a piece of bread and ham that fell on the floor, licking his chops.

[CUT]

[REC – OUTSIDE GATES, HANDHELD CAMERA (DOCU-STYLE)]