Unit Taffy 3's den mother and unit manager.

"Frankie" is an actress that has been around Hollywood since she played a Wookie in the first Star Wars and she has been hired to ride herd on keeping good track of the paperwork on the project. The men on the crew depend upon her for clean laundry, paying the motel bills, they give her their receipts, she keeps track of packages being delivered and who called about what. She's the production company's 'in the field go-to girl' and her job is to bail out people who get arrested or rent a piece of gear they need for a stunt, and she eventually is signing US Army paper work for a certain British Army major who was initially reluctant to put his signature on documents that might wind up before a Senate sub committee being eyed as 'enough rope' for an 'all hands hanging party' if something should go wrong. With Frankie being 'hired to keep track of the expended ordinance logs' she's ordering ton lots of high explosives every week and every Army EM working in the explosives depots of the United States Army Ft Bragg base knows 'her Wookie-ship' though they aren't sure why she's got this nickname. She's the boss's secretary up in Detroit and she knows the procedures and what forms are needed for ordering and who the troops are working the desks by name and she's an actor who is playing a carefully coached role. Jack and the Major listen to her phone calls and give her head nods or shakes and thumbs down, or thumbs up and she just runs this 'I know what the hell I'm doing here, just get me the phone numbers I need so we can keep up with this Hollywood Production company's appetite for blowing up houses up to date on their shooting schedule. They only have so much budget and Jack's hiring guys on leave just to keep up with the shooting schedule and it's seventeen hundred bucks a week after taxes! '

And an open bar down at the Reality Bar and Grill. What do you want to eat? We have everything on the menu. Ever had a good dry rub Theem? Is to die for! Wait until you see some of the props they have around here, too! And they do have 'everything you can think of' on the menu for real, too! The old kitchen that hasn't seen a banquet in not quite fifty years has been cleaned up and has people keeping it running 24 hours a day. Someone special orders something, send Little Timmy over to serve it. What the hell is dry rubbed Theem, anyway? Oh, intelligent beings, only these are clones. Ohhh Kay! TMI.

Jack's a kind of guy that can go sit by himself and do his paperwork and just tune out his surroundings. He's down at the corner of the bar in what had been 'Jessica's Corner' but which now has a very small children's seat out of the fifties or even earlier padded arm chair with a table on its left, a lamp on the wall over the chair above head height, and a rack of papers propped up over some small drawers like you'd find along the bottom of a bar's 'booze shrine' and Jack notices this stuff as a cute blond takes his order. How the fuck is he supposed to explain away this whole mess out on US 23? The cop picking up the ground to air and clearing the major in just as Jack had hit the remote for the sequencer, which was locked up all safe and sound, inside the truck! And here comes the Zoomie just as things start to go Boomie and the whole side of the bird is dished on, and how to explain that little effect to a crash board. Concussion effect is very tough to explain, and the boom boom they'd blown up? Oh, yeah, 'just happened to' and what's a case of HE among friends, right? Actually it was only a few bricks of C 4, but stashing the bottles of diesel over the top so they'd vaporize and be ignited from the next pit flash, and

LOUD!? Jack's kind of glad they have the wrecked helicopter to explain what happened to the cop cars windows, and his ears are still ringing and everything sounds a bit underwater and off he goes to check this stuff out he's just been handed.

Taffy 3? Our convoy road call unit number was Taddy Three, the guy at the depot that just had his third kid was being referred to as 'daddy three' and now, what is this script about?

Boom. Half track in furniture store, Act I, Scene One. "Looks like Jack's having a bad morning, eh LT?"

Things get a bit faint in Jack's world right at that moment. A small voice isn't heard, until someone tugs at his leg. He looks down and there is this very small person looking up at him with a joint in her mouth and saying, "Move over man, you're in my chair."

"Your chair?"

"Yeah. My seat's up there on top the bar and I use the back of the barstool you're sitting on to climb up onto the bar. Just move over for a minute and you can have it back, Meanwhile, make yourself useful and put this on the bar for me. Thanks" She hands him a briefcase she has strapped onto her back and hands her ruck up to him. He hauls it up and looks as it as he gets up and up the back of this 'pieces missing from the back old lacquered bar stool made out of mahogany' she goes, walks down the bar and puts a shot of coke into her own glass and goes back to the child's toy furniture overstuffed chair that matches the upholstery in the bar stool Jack now sits back down in. She walks by with her glass and picks up her ruck and says 'Thanks, I'm Frankie, you're Jack. I'm the Unit Production manager, you may respectfully call me Your Royal Wookiness, and I'm your den mother. If you lose your receipts you will be paying for it yourself and if you don't have it in by Friday at two thirty, latest, I'll personally rip up your receipts right in front of your eyes. You are sheep. Less than feces, though art an Extra, and an Extra, thou shall remain. You are to be fed shit, told shit, and made to eat shit, and you aren't worth shit, simply because thou art an Extra, and the thought of doing nudity with a bunch of naked boys and girls didn't repulse you. So here is what the deal is, chief, this piece of schlock isn't even going to see the casting room floor, it's going right up on the shelf and all you are is a bunch of naked young studly hunks standing around in the background on The Fountains of Belle Isle set. This is someone's cute little way of halving their production budget and our cost over runs on out of control B Unit production costs will sink this little monstrosity in a sea of red ink, which creative cost accounting will make happen. Welcome to Hollywood, my fine studly looking creature from Central Casting, and at least they got the look right this time. We'll start out with the cattle call being for 'The Toast of the Castro' and when you're hair grows out a bit, we'll bit player you into this silver plated turd that is at least giving us some work right now. Welcome to the lovely weather of Detroit Michigan, and no way am I going to take my bike out on those roads! Ice ruts you wouldn't believe. Once was enough! Everything from now on, it's on a sound stage or I'm walking. You happen to have any contacts for da kine, bro?"

"Uh ... no, sorry." Frankie sits down, hauls out a bag of weed, picks up her grinder and rolling tray to work on and goes to building a doobie. Jack goes back to his pages of ... what had just happened in his life. Right up to the events that had just occurred the night before! Some Pentagon people had meet them in the morning and briefed them in on how they'd be really there to check that the civilians knew what they were doing and weren't cutting any corners with safety! They'd just gotten dropped off at the bar by the Public Relations men from the Army's PIO and hadn't had much of a chance to discuss this incident and walked into 'Where the hell have you been?' and 'here's your scripts' and off to the bar Jack had gone and not even the super cute waitress had dented his 'oh my god that bird is going to really fuck up my Army career big time' shell shock and he and the Major are going to have to get their stories straight on this little fuck up, but haven't had any private time to talk yet.