“…. and ejected forcibly from the room before he even began the monologue, literally thrown out, owing to both the Cmmdr’s unexpected gnome-like demeanor which stunned the casting person and director, as well as to the copious amount of sweat he exuded. Literally drenched in anxiety, the bloated bottom feeder sailed through the door and landed on the floor of the hall where he slid for several feet, passing his competition – David Rasche, Steven Spinella, and several other real actors, as they looked on bemused and somewhat baffled as to why the casting person had even considered bringing in such a toad. The Cmmdr finally came to a rest down the hall, in front of another audition room. Looking up he saw a sign on the door ‘New York City Gay Men’s Chorus – Have an Up Tempo Prepared.’ God knows the flaccid little fool had no ‘up tempo;’ he had no tempos whatsoever except maybe a ‘talentless-tempo.’ Dejected, bereft, and genuinely broken, our hero picked himself up from the floor and loped to the elevator.