The Danish Delight (Mads Mikkelsen)

Chapter 1: "The Exact Moment"

Chapter 1: "The Exact Moment"

I entered class that morning only to see a look of utter excitement among the face of Mike Claymont. Mike was our instructor for the Creative Film/Acting course; we dared not call him Mr. Claymont, nor even think of addressing him as "Professor". He hated such accusations of superior authority and insisted on being "Just Mike".

Mike was a very freelanced man who cared much about the environment and the everlasting movement for World Peace. He was often nicknamed "Micky the Hippie" behind his back.

As the the hour came for class to begin, Mike had made the entire class tremble when he shrieked the news. "We have been given the opportunity to work ON SET at Universal Studios for the remainder of the semester!!"

Looks of confusion stirred the classroom.

"I was forced to pull a few strings and kiss a few asses, but nevertheless earned FULL ACCESS of equipment and all! Depending upon what other courses you are taking, you will be privileged to student housing near the site. This will allow you to use the most of your resources and produce a damn good film before the semester's end."

I couldn't comprehend such amounts of glorious news so instantaneously. I couldn't have possibly be given a chance to finally film on big-time movie sets! Goosebumps traveled up my arms with the thought.

On the account that my other courses required little of my attendance, it had been decided; I would continue most of my semester on set, in Hollywood, and create my masterpiece.

-(ONE WEEK LATER)-

I had just gotten settled in my new student apartment and was overly ecstatic for my first day on set that morning. Mike took me, and the other few students who could make it, on a tour of the entire area and showed us our limits of where and when we could shoot. After a few hours of explaining careful and explicit rules, he let us off to further explore and use our new resources.

As much as I had wanted to grab props and equipment and just have at it, I couldn't. I still had no written material, no actors, and not the slightest idea of what my "message" was going to be.

I stood on the blank set, upon which Mike had left us, for nearly an hour in amazement that I STILL had no inspiration.

Perhaps fresh-air would do me good in this situation.

I left the set and began to roam outdoors within the area for something... ANYTHING... that would cause a spark. Enough roaming lead to a small park (used by many for various scenes) which contained a bench upon which I could rest and continue to ponder.

There I sat in deep thought until the most vividly awful noise rang between my ears. It was truly unlike any noise I had ever heard before, yet it bothered me immensely. I had to discover the source of the noise and stop it before I went insane!

To my disgust, I was lead to a set where where a small man was welding together some foreign object; and doing so, with the APPARENT PURPOSE of creating such an absurd sound.

He yelled to himself as he continued, "This should drive Robinson absolutely bonkers!"

I quickly ran up to him and began to shout over the noise, "What on Earth are you doing?!? That noise is unbearable!! Knock it off!" I didn't care whether or not it was my place to yell such rude orders to someone who was at work in the studio, my sensitive ears were in agonizing pain.

The man immediately stopped and gave me a blank stare for nearly a full minute. His face became apparent with confusion and shock that I had spoken to him with such demand and anger.

"I... I am sorry m'am. I was not aware that anyone else was near except for Robinson and my crew. You know, it being a Sunday and all, few people are around."

Shit... I sounded like a bitch.

His explanation made me feel terrible about the way I had acted. Moreover, I felt obligated to apologize for my profound behavior. "No, please, I should not have been so insanely rude. Please, it is me who should be apologizing."

He raised his eyebrow and then giggled a bit as he spoke, "That as it may be, I am the freak who was welding random shit on set with the apparent intention to create such horrid noises. It was meant as a joke to annoy my director, Robinson, as he, too, has a sensitive sense of hearing. I see now that the joke did not play out too well."

I was entirely perplexed at how he could find such a joke to be amusing to anyone. I was anything if not COMPLETELY freaked out by this man.

Could he have some sort of brain disorder? Who the hell welds in a studio?!

Every bit of me wanted to bid him adieu and get as far away from that set as humanly possible.

"Well..." I began. "I think that I should leave you to your work. It was nice meeting y-"

"WAIT!", he interrupted me. "Before you go, would you do me a favor?"

Fucking hell...

Why this man wanted a favor from a stranger who he hardly knew, still boggles every bit of my imagination. Yet, my feelings of obligation remained to help him since I had behaved so profusely.

"Sure. What's the favor?"

"Excellent! There is a man in the room next door who has some equipment of mine. Could you go on over and ask him to bring it to me?"

Was he too lazy to go and do it himself?

"No problem." I forced a smile and walked off, hoping that that would be my last encounter with the deranged man.

I made my way next door only to find that the door was locked. So I knocked once....twice... three separate times with no sign of an answer.

"UGGHHH." I breathed heavily, about to walk off, until a certain someone finally answered the door.

HERE was the exact moment that everything changed in my life. HERE was where a simple favor and odd occurrence of events made all the difference in the world. For among my very eyes, was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. I could describe every inch of him from just that first glance. His eyes were a dark hazeled green, much like my own. His alpine cheekbones were perfectly symmetrical. His jaw was strong and well structured. His arms were muscular, but not to a excessively noticeable point. Everything about him dazzled with Godly perfection and his lips .... oh those lips... theywere soft and more delicate than porcelain itself; and they moved ever so graciously as he spoke to me a friendly "Hello."