Red stretch lycra is such a bitch to work with darling... but it does hug the torso to well...
My directing duties do allow for some free time in which I could help you with all those torsos, Princess?
.....and we're all about hugging the torso......
Ah, is that how you decide which ones can appear in the film, Maddie?
"Damn it Jim, I'm a doctor, not a Senior FX Digital Processing Imagining Engineer!" Dr McCoy "The Troubles With Goldblums" Star Trek
That would explain why a couple of the background Redshirts have more than a passing resemblance to Quasimodo...
It's called natural selection...only the fittest survive.Then again, maybe all the redshirts need is a cataclysm to get a new start. All it took was one meteor strike to wipe out the dinosaurs and allow tiny rodents to crawl out of the dirt, evolve into humans, and dominate the planet...for the time being, at least. One telepathic Venus flytrap, a Borg computer virus, or a Rock Crystal Candy sugar overload could eliminate the command structure and elevate the redshirts to dominate the quadrants. Or at least pave the way for the true apex species, The Tribbles, to take over.
Oog. I don't what would be worse - A universe full of hapless Redshirts, or one full of fuzzy voraciousness?!
I'll come back when there are shags...(Or even cormorants on groynes - I'm easy.)
I popped down to the seafront this morning and all the groynes were pretty much covered up, so there wasn't a shag to be had!
I hope your picture, or better the story inside your picture, takes place on a Sunday only ? Thank you for putting me in charge of the music score, I'll do my very best, from speed metal to Shostakovich's number 8 (Stalingrad Symphony).
Tickle my fancy, why don't you?