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down, Anushka. I told them America doesn’t want to see an amputee in a bikini. They might, however, want to see one beautiful girl, surviving against all odds—bald, but unbroken.”
    Anushka pretended to weep as she played a tiny, invisible violin. “I get it. I read the script, Max. Survivor, loved by all—yada yada. But there’s one problem, and it’s a BIG one. I consented to come back to The ’Bu on one condition. And that condition is that no matter what the scene—no matter what I was doing in it—no matter how late at night or early in the morning it was shot, I was going to be HOT. H-O-T, Max.”
    â€œBut,” he said, trying to resummon his patience, “how could you ever not look hot, Anushka? You’re America’s Hot Sweetheart. At least that’s what Star magazine called you last week.”
    Anushka rose from her makeup chair and looked directly into Max’s eyes. “ BALD IS NOT HOT!”
    Corliss arrived breathless, climbing up into the trailer. “What is it, Max? I came as fast as I—” And then she saw Anushka. “Uh-oh.” She looked at Max. Her face registered her horror at what she’d forgotten to do. “With all the nanny business this morning I guess I forget to talk to Anushka about the, um”—Corliss gulped—“hair thing.”
    Max nodded solemnly. “I see, Corliss.” He sighed. “Well, I guess I have been throwing a lot at you. Something was bound to get lost in the shuffle. It’s just a shame it’s the, um, ‘hair thing’—as you so eloquently put it.”
    â€œYOU knew about this, Cor?” stammered Anushka, who was now shooting rage rays in Corliss’s direction. “YOU were part of this ugly conspiracy?!”
    â€œDon’t blame Corliss, Anushka,” said Max. “She’s in the midst of an extremely high-level task for me. In any event, you need to know how important Alecia’s baldness is to the plot. Especially when you hear how there’s going to be a big scene for her when all her friends gather to tell her how they’ve been lost without her.”
    Anushka leaped from the makeup chair and banged toward the trailer door. “Another nice try, Max. A big hospital scene with tears— blah, blah, blah —no one can live without me— whatevs. But none of that,” she said, jutting her cleavage forward so Max could get the point, “makes me look HOT . I don’t care if I’m hooked up to twelve IVs, getting blood transfusions through my ears, and hanging on to life by a thread —if I’m not covered in hotness and camera-ready, I walk! Comprendo? ”
    â€œAnushka,” said Corliss, “don’t go! I’m sorry!”
    But Anushka was already out the door.

The Beach—Continuous
    Anushka marched toward her trailer, kicking up a cloud of sand as she went. Corliss trudged behind her. Max followed. “Anushka,” said Corliss, “don’t go getting your thong in a twist. Think of all the beautiful actresses who’ve won awards just by looking butt-ugly, right?”
    Anushka stopped running. Max and Corliss stopped running. “Name ’em,” said Anushka, steam practically shooting out of her ears.
    Corliss cleared her throat and began. “Well, Jennifer Hudson in Dreamgirls had to play all frumpy. And Angelina Jolie had to wear that bag-lady wig in that movie nobody saw. And , at the very top of the list, America Ferrera has to play ugly in Ugly Betty !” Max examined Anushka’s face closely. Corliss’s argument seemed to be having an effect. “America Ferrera is so pretty in real life,” Corliss continued, “but then on TV she looks like Extreme Make under. All of those women have shelves full of awards. In fact, being made to look ugly is practically the first step to getting an award in this town, if you think about