Inside the Character's Studio

“Inside the Character’s Studio”

An irreverent little piece revolving around the idea of character’s having lives aside from what goes on in the actual pages. The characters and some of the dialogue belong to the fellow mentioned at the end.

Hannibal Lecter studied the words on the page for what seemed like the hundredth time, he was getting rather bored and wished they’d just get started. From across the room Clarice Starling burst out laughing.
“Get this,” she said to him, “I actually *eat* Krendler.”
“So I noticed,” he replied.
At that moment Krendler walked in, “Look, I’ve got a date with Mason tonight, can we just do this thing so I can get out of this creepy place.”
“Oh, fine,” Hannibal said, “Clarice, why don’t you go and change while I get Paul ready for dinner.”
“Fine by me.”

When Clarice returned she and Hannibal went into the dining room, where Paul was already seated, behind the flowers as per author’s instruction. Clarice had the first line.
“What are we having?” and she burst out laughing. “This makes no sense, I know what we’re having, Krendler and quail, or is it pheasant?”
“It’s quail, dear,” Hannibal informed her.
“Good, the skins on that are crispier than pheasant, and we all know I like crispy skins,” she gave Hannibal a sly grin.
“Would the two of you just hurry up and eat me already!” Krendler yelled from behind the flowers.
“Yes, yes, fine,” Clarice retorted. “Starting over.”
“What are we having for dinner?”
Hannibal brought his finger to his lips, the gesture for quiet, “You never ask, it spoils the surprise.”
They managed quite well from there, until Hannibal informed her that Krendler was joining them for dinner.
“Yeah, he’s gonna *be* dinner!” she announced happily.
Hannibal groaned, they were never going to get through this chapter at the rate they were going.
“Let’s just pick up where we left off, shall we? Paul, are you all right back there? Not too tightly taped?”
“I’m fine, I just wanna get out of here so I can get kinky with Mason, he says he’s gonna show me his noose.” Behind the flowers Krendler was looking a little too happy about that. Hannibal simply rolled his eyes and resumed where they had left off, as he said he would.
“Good. Mr Krendler is joining us for our first course.”
Krendler finally made his official appearance as the flowers were removed. From there they seemed to be on a roll, finally. Inwardly Hannibal was thankful things seemed to be moving along, he was going to the Paris Opera tonight, when this was all over, to discuss Italian architecture with Erik, the Phantom. Clarice had plans to go shopping with Christine while the men talked, but neither of them was in the hurry Krendler appeared to be in. Everyone knew he and Mason were an item. It was rumoured that Mason was a brilliant exotic dancer, but Hannibal didn’t really want to know anymore about that.
“All we ask is that you keep an open mind,” *and your mouth shut*, he added silently, but in vain.
Krendler couldn’t contain his laughter, “I love that line, it’s so ironic, funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Clarice sighed, “Paul, it’s not that damn funny, and it’s not ironic either. What is ironic is your interrupting the proceedings, considering that you’re the one who’s so hot to trot on out of here to your little boy-toy.”
“Clarice, be nice or you can’t have any dessert.” Hannibal’s smirk let her know exactly what he planned on serving.
“Yes, sir,” and Hannibal was amazed at how sexy she managed to make that sound.
“Say it again,” and he walked towards her.
“Yes sir.”
“Mmm, I *love* the way you say that.” Hannibal leaned towards her and the two of them indulged in a long, passionate kiss.
“Stop that, right now, the two of you,” Krendler yelled. “Eeeewww! That is so nasty!”
They looked at him, and in unison, “SHUT UP!” Hannibal happily resumed the game of tonsil-hockey with his ladylove while Krendler made gagging noises.
“I’m sorry, my dear,” Hannibal apologised, “but we probably should continue before Paul hurts himself.”
“Okay, just remember to finish that later,” she told him.
“Oh, I will. Where were we?”
“Keep an open mind,” Krendler supplied, “though if the two of you do that again, I’m closing it for good.”
After that they got serious about what they were doing and managed to keep to their instructions for over an entire page. Hannibal nearly lost it when Clarice said; “I’ve never had caper berries before.” But as he was supposed to find something in there “intensely moving” he managed to control his mirth to a smile, which nearly undid Clarice, but she managed to get a hold on things, right up until the Oliver Twist reference. As she said it she and Hannibal looked at each other and cracked up.
“I can’t help it,” she said, “that line is too much.”
“I believe I’m the only one who’s actually supposed to like that line,” Hannibal said. “It’s supposed to release glee in me, oh well, mirth would have been better, but I can do glee as well, if I must. And you’re right dear, the line is a little much, but I gather it’s appreciated in the context.”
“Could we finish this, please!” Krendler demanded.
“Oh, fine,” Hannibal answered him, “just hold still so I can cut some more of your brains out.”
They got through the rest of the chapter with no further mishap. When they were finished Krendler joyfully ran out of the house, borrowed Lecter’s truck, and made it to the Verger place in record time. Mason was delighted to see him, and indeed, he was a brilliant exotic dancer, and the two shared a night of unbridled passion.
Meanwhile, back at the house….

Clarice and Hannibal studied chapter 101; he finished before she did. When he was done he flipped through the pages again, to see if he’d missed something, and then he checked the folder the chapter had come in, and it was empty. At that time Clarice finished reading, and she, too, found there was nothing more.
“WHAT?!” she screamed. “How can he do that to us? All that lead up, and then NOTHING?! Everyone knows we’ve been together since we met in Silence, seven years of off-page sex, and all he does is IMPLY we get it on?”
Hannibal was just as indignant as she was, only he was calmer about it. “Mr Harris, may I protest this, after all we’ve been through I believe Clarice and I deserve a little love scene, just one, that’s all we’re asking.”
“I want a smut scene with Hannibal!” Clarice whined. “Won’t you just add that one little scene onto the end of the chapter?”
“I agree with Clarice, it can’t be all that difficult, we’ll even write it for you, we’ve had a lot of practise. Oh, and while we’re changing things I’d like to alter my diet, all that human flesh is packing on the pounds, it’s so very difficult to stay slim.”

Harris shook his head. *Why*, he thought, *why me? Why am I stuck with them? Why are they so damnably difficult to work with? I created them, why can’t they just behave? Does every writer have this problem?*
He addressed the pair in the drawing room, “If you don’t behave I’m going to write you into a Disney movie.”