As she practices her lines in front of the mirror, she really starts to get into character. You look up at the towering white legs of Robbie’s Quinn-get-up, covered in painted-on black tattoo drawings. You never imagined getting this close to her, getting a view no one else has ever had. A very fitting one, as what is someone like you, if not a bug beneath a star like her. You take a few seconds to stop admiring her, and look around for options. This dream will be wasted if you die too soon. You see a pile of clothes you could hide in, and her bed, which you can climb, as her sheets are hanging to the floor. You feel a sudden shock in your heart, as your entire body freezes up. The trailer has gone silent, you realize Margot has stop practicing her lines. You turn to look up, seeing two big blue eyes staring right at you.
You try and muster up something to say. “H-Hey”
Her lips part slowly, as her nose curls up. “Bug…”
Upon hearing what she assumes you to be, you scream and run for cover. Margot Robbie doesn’t move. She follows you with her eyes, watching you slowly run across the floor of her trailer. She wants to scream herself, maybe have a hissy-fit against management, about the bug in her trailer. That’s when a smile creeps across the actress’ face. She was trying to get into character, so she might as well have a bit of fun with it. You run as fast as your legs can carry you, but barely cover any distance at your size.
Behind you, an exaggerated voice can be heard. “Lil’ bugges think he can run from Harley?”
You hear two loud thuds behind you.
“How ‘bout I make you a stain under my nasty foot.” She says, as her massive bare sole slams down in front of you, blocking your path.
You are unable to stop yourself in time and slam face-first the side of her arch. You get up and try to run along her heel, while holding your hand on a bloody nose.
Margot raises her heel and smiles. “You’re a strange looking fella’, wonda’ what kinda bug you are.” She giggles and shrugs. “Guess, I’mma see when it’s smushed into ma sole.”
She positions her heel over you, and lets it drop. You let out another scream, as you jump aside, just in time, not to be flattened underneath it. You keep running, as you hear the Harley-fied voice of Margot Robbie shout down from the heavens.
“Hey, were ya goin’, I ain’t done playin’!”
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