What starts as a verbal assault quickly escalates into something far less interesting, but far more challenging: a battle of wills, wiles and wits...using what is commonly referred to as "body language." One girl will assert herself; the other will answer back. Back and forth. Over the course of an afternoon and evening that will alter the career of one, but leave both actresses changed women.
In one corner is Katherine Heigl, the blazing dirty blond bombshell who burst onto the scene in the early nineties with "My Father the Hero." Now a grown woman of 27 - and now fully developed in every sense of the word - Kat is an intimidating form. 5’9” and nearly 140 lbs. of large bone structure and pure muscle, she’s shed her baby fat and is a tower of tanned, voluptuous power. With hands as large as a man's and feet that slide snugly into size 10 Jimmy Choo's, Kat is a true testament to the term "wonder woman." And at 34D-26-38, she’s sure to cast a sensual glow over any proceedings whether in front of the cameras or on the mats.
In the other corner is the less showy, but still dazzling Anne Hathaway, yet to shake her teen-idol image despite having the lead in the gritty new movie, "Havoc." A princess who would rather be an iron maiden, Anne is far from a flimsy starlet, having matured into a filled-out 23 year old. Once the picture of a waif, she is now stretched out to 5’8” with curves to make an hourglass envious. Weighing in at a slender, but broad-shouldered 133 lbs., like Kat, Anne’s figure has gained imposing properties. Nicknamed "bigfoot" in high school, her size 10's now proportion quite nicely with her fuller frame and at 36C-24-36, her figure fits the role of “ideal woman" to a tee! No longer the sweet young thing she's been typecast as, Anne wants her time in the limelight - respect in competition.
Both girls will take it to each other, and take it to the highest levels of pain, stamina and even pleasure, that each can afford. No holds barred hardly does their confrontation justice. Soon to come is the fight of these girls' young lives. Clad first in audition clothing, jeans, tee-shirts and flip flops, they will size one another up and have a few words. Then comes the tough stuff. Standing eye to eye, smiling competitively, with teeth bared and eyes zeroed-in, their noses touch, as do their impressive chests and the tips of their toes. The calm before the storm, as they say.
They will move to a more private locale, dressed in bikinis, to strut their statuesque, toned bodies in front of each other. It's a pride thing, but it won't survive the torment and tumult that lies ahead. The slapping of skin, the snapping of joints, the pounding of fists, the cries, the guttural gasps of hurt...all set before these Amazon belles. Ligaments and muscle will be tested and twisted, breath will be stolen, forced out of lungs and heaved heavily throughout. And the most sensitive regions of both girls' bodies will face the ultimate test.
Katherine Heigl and Anne Hathaway. They could share wardrobes, shoes, perhaps beauty secrets; but they cannot - they WILL not - share the opportunity to catapult to ultimate stardom. Only one will achieve it; but to do so she will have to fight; she will have to endure; she will have to muster everything she has!
Anticipate it. The fight will soon be here…
Katherine finished touching-up her makeup: a little powder for the sheen on her small, soft nose, someraspbery coloring applied to her pillowy pout. She batted her eyes in her compact mirror and smiled, checking her teeth. This was her first audition in some time, perhaps a year.
The process wasn't alien to the statuesque actress, who since a breakout role in the surprise hit film "My Father the Hero," met surprisingly little fame or fortune thereafter. And although she had become something of a household name among many young men who'd followed her career comprised mainly of B-movies and stints in network television--these were the admirers who stuck with the big-bonedbeauty through her thick-and-thin, then thick, then thin again days--Heigl was more than willing to start from square one to win the lead in what would be the career boost of a lifetime: a starring role in Stephen Spielberg's soon-to-be-filmed summer blockbuster.
She applied a little more powder to her nervous brow and clicked the compact and tucked it into her purse. She was early. The casting director had not yet arrived at the company's executive offices, where Heigl waited, pacing the conference room, all anticipation. Clad in a white halter top that sucked onto her voluptuous frame, but not at all revealing--avoiding crassness, her cleavage was hardly exposed--she went over lines from her audition piece. Her sky-scraping legs, once a tad wide and fleshy, now large but toned from top to toe, swooped quickly in their snug denim casings, her long, wide feet making lapping sounds against her baby blue flip flops as she walked. Twirling a lock of golden mane into a shiny tendril between her thumb and index finger, Katherine was the picture of health, but also the picture of a bundle of nerves.
A knock at the door. Katherine froze.
And another! This was it; this was her moment. A rush of cold and heat filled her chest and face as she tried not to go flush before the man who would appraise her. Alas, it wasn’t the casting agent, only another actress.
"Uh, am I in the right place?" chirped a flute-like soprano, as a striking brunette poked her head in the doorway.
Her big, expressive eyes searched the room, which was empty other than a table, two chairs and Heigl. Seeing a familiar face, the long-limbed girl entered the room, wearing her worriment like a mask. Her eyebrows arched, her enormous, luxurious mouth twisted as she nibbled her lip, she closed the door behind her and leaned against it. A moment ticked by. Then another.
Finally, the brunette broke the silence, popping her lips and saying, "Hi, I'm Anne, Anne Hathaway."
Stepping forward, Anne extended her hand to Katherine and the friendly blonde reciprocated, taking Anne's hand and purring, "Katherine Heigl."
"So..." Anne sighed. “This is...you're here for the audition too, I guess?"
Anne was no smooth operator; she’d actually been waiting outside for more ten minutes trying to muster the courage to enter into a potential new chapter in furthering her blossoming stardom. Dressed in a pale green tee-shirt that stopped just short enough to reveal her dimple belly-button and form-fitting black capri’s that revealed shapely calves, it took everything she had to exert herself and knock on that door. She was also wearing flip flops, black - which nicely contrasted her alabaster peaches-and-cream complexion. Anne smiled uncomfortably, glancing in all different directions, seeking a reasoning for being left alone with this other actress who was, presumably, there to read for the same part.
Katherine, now a little dubious, responded, "I’m here for the part; you?"
"Yup!" returned Anne, trying to be casual, as the point of this chance meeting began to dawn on her. "Which part?"
"The only one worth auditioning for, I guess."
"You mean, the, the lead."
Katherine nodded, then raised an eyebrow and bounced the question back, "You?'
"The same," sighed Anne. She’d received incredible success from her roles the "Princess Diary" movies, but now she was hoping to reinvent herself as an actress - and as a woman not to be taken lightly; and it showed. She was no longer the nymph, the waif, a lightweight. She was tall and where she’d once seemed lanky, she’d grown broad-shouldered and filled out her fleshy body. Her lithe form had elegant curves where there’d been only bony angles. Her raven hair was a chocolate waterfall of large brown curls. She was - to both girls' surprise - very similar build to Katherine Heigl.
"I'm thinking the casting agent isn't coming," Katherine posed it more as a statement than a question.
"What makes you say that?" the slightly younger actress prodded.
"Well, I've heard of these little 'introductions' before. Last one I heard of was casting the first 'Charlie's Angels.'
"What do you mean? What happens?" Anne asked, leaning forward eager to hear the details.
Katherine rolled her eyes and tossed her script on the table, "They don't want to choose."
"No. This is an action movie; they want to see if we can handle the rough stuff."
"Meaning," Katherine groaned. “They want US to settle it between ourselves."
Anne's eyebrows again arched, but she was only feigning her shock. "And how do they propose we do that?" she inquired, her high voice dropping an octave.
"How do you think?" Katherine sneered. "This is completely fucked." She kicked the chair aside and crossed her arms over her impressive bosom.
"Yo mean...what...the want to see us fight over it?" Anne's eyes were wide and plaintive.
Nodding, Katherine continued, "Happened with 'Angels'; Cameron Diaz beat Liv Tyler for her part...literally."
"Really!" Anne said, her intonation betraying more and more intrigued interest.
"Liv put up a hell of a fight, so I heard,” Katherine purred. “She roughed Cami up pretty good before she got her ass kicked."
"And you're suggesting WE fight...each other...for this part…in this movie?"
"No!” Katherine snorted. “What I’m suggesting, is that THEY’RE suggesting we fight for it!"
"Well that's ridiculous!” Anne snorted indignantly. “I'm not going to fight ANYone for a job, this one or any other one. I’m somebody in Hollywood now, I don’t have to resort to thuggery to get a part," Anne said sternly as she leaned up against the wall and clicked her teeth out of nervous habit. She looked away and rolled her eyes with a sigh.
"I know. It's stupid; pointless, really," Katherine agreed. “After all, you could sleep your way into it; you know, the old fashioned way!” Kat was greedy. She wanted this job. More than Anne did, so it appeared.
"I mean what would fighting prove?" Anne pleaded, ignoring Katherine’s barb.
"Well,” Katherine shrugged. “It’d prove one of us was…what…more up to the challenge than the other, I guess."
"Oh please. I can't believe you'd be taken in by…by something as silly and childish - and exploitative - as this."
"Look. I agree with you,” Katherine grinned. “It IS embarrassing, but then again, it's...Spielberg."
Katherine sauntered over toward Anne. "Meaning...I'd fight anyone for a chance to work with him."
Anne's jaw dropped. "Fight? MEeeee?" Her voice went squeaky high once more.
"Hell, I'd kick your butt around the room for this opportunity. Wouldn't you kick mine for it?"
Anne looked around, her eyes darting back and forth, thinking. "I…I'd never thought it would come to this kind of petty thing. Cattle calls, of course. Committing some terrible deed on some slimy producer…yeah, maybe that too…but a fight? I mean, I wouldn't know where to begin. Plus, we don't even know each other," she added, as if that made a difference.
"Right!” Katherine said. “No hard feelings either way. Right? Professionals to the bitter end, right? I mean...what? You’re not scared?"
Anne's eyes narrowed a bit and she pushed off the wall with her ass, standing upright in front of Kat. "I'm not into that whole…violence thing. I got a *real* education and I like to think I have at least a modicum of class, thank you very much!"
"Excuse me? I didn't go to Harvard so all of a sudden *I* don't have class?" Katherine snapped angrily.
"First of all, I went to Vassar!” Anne corrected. “And second, I mean, let's face it,” she said, opening her hands and moving them up and down both sides of Katherine’s voluptuous body outlining her curves. “You're a *very pretty* girl but let’s get real...you're just a sex bomb; a cheap thrill…no offense, but you’re basically just a walking, talking pair of breasts…very nice ones by the way, no offense…but NO WAY are you in the same league with me."
"I see!” Katherine growled, her face flushed. “So you're somehow trying to equate smaller tits to a degree? I guess by your reasoning, Charlize Theron has a PhD or something, that right?"
"I'm a 36C!” Anne huffed, pushing out her chest. “NOT that it's any of your business. And mine are natural!"
"Well,” Kat said, rolling her eyes and inhaling deeply to expand her chest. “I'M a 34D - also natural, I might add! I went to an exclusive Prep School where I was spotted by modeling agents, so let's not get all haughty now, alright?"
"Haughty? Moi? Well, there you are Miss Preppy; using a word almost as big as your bust! I’m so impressed!"
"You want big; look at these Miss Man-hands," Kat said, grabbing her breasts in each hand and hefting them like a pair of ripe cantaloupes.
"You should talk, Sasquatch!" Anne retorted snidely, proffering her own pair of pride ‘n’ joys.
"Oh, your gunboats are certainly infinitesimal,” Kat sniped. “Just like your chance of getting this role."
"I'd steal it from you in a second!" Anne huffed.
"You think?” Katherine approached. "Prove it, brown eyes." She pulled the chair back to the table and sat down. "Little test?" she asked as she placed her elbow on the table and raised her hand, inviting Anne to arm wrestle.
"This is so stupid!" Anne protested.
Katherine's eyes lowered a little as she smirked, "I've never backed away from a challenge, even a petty one like this."
Anne sat down, placing her arm on the table. The two actresses studied each other's long, toned arms, then slowly slid their elbows together and clasped their large palms. Slowly, fluidly, they inter-laced long fingers; Katherine's tanned, Anne's ivory.
"Ready when you are."
They wasted no time, each investing a great deal of force into her grip. In fact, they both put more energy into their squeezing than to pushing! Fingers dug deep into the backs of hands - not nails, fingertips, buried in skin - until knuckles turned white. Each wore a grimace that twisted her pretty face; teeth clenched teeth and brows furrowed as long arms knotted and muscles rippled. It was an even contest with no headway being made by either.
"You...won't...win," Katherine grunted as she slid her legs toward Anne's under the table, pressing the tips of her toes against the tips of Anne's.
"You…are…so…dead," huffed Anne as her toes entering the competition. "Bigfoot!" she growled.
Katherine's long size 10's were specimens of perfection, from their golden tan to their French pedicure but Anne's dancer's feet, complete with crescent arches, were their equal. Her deep red pedicured toes slipped between Katherine's as they tied themselves together, clutching feet.
"This is just the beginning…"
With their flimsy flip flops flung off, the girls twisted their prehensile toes together, rolling the balls of their feet and kneading their soles; arches grinding arches. Anne bit her lower lip and sighed in discomfort while Katherine gnashed her jaws from the struggle. Both girls' shoulders were craggy, like the skin was pulled to its full tautness, as their biceps rose and gained definition with every push and pull.
Anne slammed her free hand down on the table, lowered her head and, looking down, mewling softly. She glanced down under the table at her heels grinding into Kat’s. She used her theater and dance training to her advantage, pointing her toes like a ballerina and bending Katherine's ten little piggies violently backward. Katherine grunted and her grip loosened a bit, allowing Anne to gain some advantage as she edged her arm over the blonde's.
Katherine responded smartly, spreading her toes wide, surprising Anne and prying the red-nailed brunette's to the snapping point. Anne let out a slight yelp and tried her best to squeeze their toes back together. The sounds of cracking knuckles provided the only real noise, as the two combatants' faces evinced the actual degree of their pain. Katherine pounded the table with her free fist, shaking her head…"No. You won't beat me."
"Please...please stop. No more…unnnnghnnn"
Katherine's golden fist was accruing support and substantive power. Their wrists were soft as wet noodles, their forearms quivered like reeds in a hard wind. Anne's arm moved Katherine's back. Then Katherine's moved Anne's. Then back. Then forth. Eventually, the two arms had had enough. Neither being able to take on enough momentum, their strengths seemed nearly equal…then their lock broke.
Each released her grip and pushed off of the others feet. They slid their tender legs under their chairs, tried to shake some life back into the injured hands.
"This isn't over!" Katherine bellowed.
"We haven't proven anything yet!"
"You were losing and you know it…pudgy!"
"Oh please; come off it, tit bags; you're pathetic."
"I am? Wha..."
"This is far from finished."
"You want to go again?" Kat asked. But Anne shook her long dark tresses. "What then?"
"Let's do this later. Neither of us was ready for this. Let's take time and prepare properly," Anne suggested.
"You kinky little bitch...well, not little..."
"C’mon; where do we do this?" Anne asked.
"At ‘Crunch’ gym,” Kat snapped gruffly. “Do you care what we wear?"
"Bikinis! What time? I don’t want any interruptions…"
"Midnight! We’ll have the place to ourselves."
"You're on!" Anne agreed - perhaps a little too quickly.
"And you're gone!" Kat snarled confidently.
They hurriedly parted as they stomped out of the office, leaving the script still unopened on the table. Suddenly, it was about a whole lot more than a mere role in some movie.