Now, these protesting people don’t hate me, they just don’t understand me is all. I mean no harm to our fine feathered friends. Just when you taste that good, you’re bound to be eaten. And as for our dear departed Redskins, you should know better than to pick a place to be buried near all the major highways. Someone’s gonna build something. Once all ya’ll see it my way…let’s do lunch!

The night before the grand opening of the ACB, I didn’t sleep well. I guess it was a combination of looking forward to the big day ahead of me and finding out that our fight coordinator, Tim Cronin, was a part of the brotherhood, the brotherhood of magic, that is. We had discussed magic and shared secrets of the trade that night. So I lay there trying to sleep, not with magical illusions running through my head or not even “Poultrygeist” tunes. No, what kept playing over and over, like a 24 hr marathon was Elton John’s song “Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy”. Don’t ask me why, the mind is a crazy creature. I finally drifted off for my short slumber because call time was early, not too early but I had to be on set by 7:30 AM.

As I arrived at the ACB, the day began and would continue the wonderfully organized chaos that every movie set possesses. I was told to get in make-up and costume. After that, as I approached the parking lot, they wanted all actors on set to rehearse the General’s limo pulling in and his entourage emerging. So the ACB dancers, some not in full costume and all not in full make-up and Colonel Cluck, who was happy not to be in full costume, were rushed on set. It was, of course, very nice in the limo and the air was blasting. Knowing what was coming later, all the singing and dancing in the hot sun, many times over, I made the comment “later on we were going to wish we were back in this limo. Everyone agreed. I would regret making that statement. We went through rehearsal rather quickly and a new bit was added with Denny, which was fun. Soon, we were actually shooting the scene. The ACB dancers, now in full costume and makeup, entered the limo turning it into a virtual booby-hatch or chicken coop, depending on how you look at it. As legs, thighs, breast, and derriere settled into this deluxe bucket, they all looked delicious and ready to perform. They were just a little concerned about showing too much white meat. As we sat in the limo waiting for the shot to be set up, that’s when regret came into play. We found out the engine of the limo had to be turned off, therefore stopping the air and making it twice as stuffy and hot as it was outside. We all tried to keep poor Colonel Cluck as cool as possible. This scene and the song were filmed with only a few problems. I just said “testeded” a few times, why? I don’t know…the mind IS a crazy creature. …and a few technical, like my ACB belt buckle falling off and finding out that Micki’s boot leaves a nice print on an off-white suit and shirt. But the brilliant costume people are always there ready to wash, mend, or replace to keep the scene going. Everyone on set did a fabulous job, from keeping the water flowing (thanks Alyssa for the cold Gatorade) and cleaning up the protestor’s puke. We finished three hours later than schedule, not because of any problems but just because this was a huge production number and it took more time than they thought. But the people in charge, including Lloyd, took it in stride and seemed to be happy with how everything turned out.

Thanks to everyone involved in this great film. They have all had positive attitudes and have been so nice. Thanks to the protestors, like Sereboff said, who spent so much time in the hot sun, I saw no difference in their energy in the last take as they had when we first started. Thanks to Lloyd Kaufman and the casting people of Troma who gave me this dream part. Thanks to everyone at Georgeson Shareholder for letting me go and taking me back when this is over. Thanks to my father-in-law who checks this site daily. And last but not least, thanks to my beautiful wife, Kathrine, and our most wonderful feline daughter in the world, Chat Chat, for understanding and living without me during all this. I sure miss you! But as Elton John might say “the General raised and regimented hardly a hero, just someone his mother might know, very clearly a case for cornflakes and classics… American Chicken Bunker and Poultrygeist, from the end of the world to your town. Get ready Troma fans…”Poultrygeist” is coming.

— Robin Watkins (The General)

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