Heath Houston, “Chaos ensues on-set. Abbie is encircled by writers and producers. ‘No, Heath is the dude and he is the son of the devil dog, he is the son of Canis Diaboli so James Earl Jones is the devil dog, Canis Diaboli and so Heath his son has to be either Heath or the dude.’ Abbie is apoplectic: Those are my choices. Heath sounds like a character in a candy bar commercial and the dude, seriously ? I ain’t putting my imprimatur on a sci-fi epic with James Earl Jones saying, “The dude I am your father.” How about we call him “Dood. you know with two o’s in the name instead of Dude. Abbie: And how are we supposed to show that rocketman, use subtitles ? — — Heath, Keith, Treath, yeah that sounds scifieeee. Abbie: Treath, treath, what the f are you smoking in those backlot trailers ? Damn, this is the choice of a lesser evil. Let’s go with just Dude, dump the definite article “the” and have a scene at the interstellar bar where a gunslinger says to Bobofet, Hey that badass Dude is traveling light in these parts. Yeah. — — Quiet on the set. Lock it up. (We hear the resonant, singular baritone of James Earl Jones) “I am your father, Dude.” Utter silence on the set. a shuffle of feet. a muffled cough. Abbie: (slams her coffee cup to the floor) I busted my ass for years for this ! Hey, Heath Houston and Abbie, That’s Hollywood. ONE HOUR FOR LUNCH PEOPLE. ONE HOUR MEANS ONE HOUR.