"Okay," Nicollette Sheridan is thinking. "So, I'm in this movie, and it's terrible, and already no one can figure out what Lucy Liu and I are doing in it -- hell, I don't even know what we're doing in it. I'm just glad Boltie didn't record a theme song for it or else I'd have to hear it in the shower EVERY DAMN MORNING. But seriously, why the hell did I even show up? God, I'd rather be anywhere. I'd rather be at a Knots Landing reunion. I'd rather be at a Paper Dolls party where I'm reunited with John Waite in celebration of the storyline where my character fell in love with him and tried to run away with him, only to have my meddling mother Brenda Vaccaro intervene and make him leave without me; at least then I could catch up with the mom from ALF and see whether she's stopped crying about that whole era yet. God, I'd even rather be at a party for that episode of Becker I was in -- YES, I was in an episode of BECKER, don't JUDGE me; a LOT of people were in that show.
"So... shit, is it too late? It might be. Do I really want to be this closely tied to this thing? What can I do, what can I do... what can I do that might make me less recognizable...
"BINGO! Borrow a fugly newsboy cap, contort my face, and go all scrappy-street-urchin on these people's asses. ... Oh, like you had any better ideas? Look, I don't CARE if I am ruining a perfectly normal outfit with a terrible, terrible hat. I bet you at least one person thinks I'm Daryl Hannah, and the rest of them will probably just start writing stories about how I'm secretly in training to beat the tar out of Teri Hatcher, instead of talking about me at this dud movie premiere. Which, come to think of it, might mean that I end up getting to beat the tar out of her, because the world will expect it and oh, God, I have to get home -- Boltie needs to write me a sympathetic, stirring training anthem RIGHT NOW. NOTHING will make me more ready to break that cow's nose than the sound of him wailing about tenderness."
