This story will end with a boom 100 words from now:
We were working on the set for Macbeth, discussing “The Scottish play” and superstitions when our new-hire, Mac, said he didn’t believe in curses. “Hell,” he said, “gods, demons, all that is bullshit.” And he began insulting the superstitions and ended saying: “May those little dreams, the spirits, all meet the same fate as that wretched king Macbeth.” When he said this, the men hanging drops shouted “Watch out! A rack is falling!” We all ran, but Mac tripped and fell on the microphone. And that pole stuck in his chest? That is the boom.