One, two, three—
Without any warning, a bucket of cold water was poured over Anson's shoulders and neck.
In an instant, he was drenched to the bone.
Anson stood frozen in place, maintaining an awkward posture, blinking in disbelief. It took him a full second to realize what had just happened.
The prankster, who was always the one pulling tricks, had become the victim of a prank?
He looked down at his soaked clothes and slowly raised his head.
Around him, there was a burst of laughter. James Franco and Kirsten Dunst, the masterminds, had gotten their shoes wet from the splash too, and they were now laughing uncontrollably. Meanwhile, a group of crew members, holding small plastic buckets, had formed a circle around Anson, looking like kids ready to build sandcastles on the beach. Their eyes sparkled with amusement, and smiles stretched across their faces.
But as they prepared to move in closer, they hesitated, noticing Anson's stiff stance. One by one, they grew uncertain.
After all, this was Anson.
They had been convinced by James Franco to join in on this prank, but what if they had gone too far and angered Anson? How would they deal with the fallout?
Could Anson even take a joke?
The atmosphere grew tense.
Anson glanced down at his soaked clothes once again and then shouted loudly.
"Wardrobe team, you saw this! It's not my fault, I didn't ask for this!"
The wardrobe crew, who had just been worrying about sending the clothes to the dry cleaners and dealing with extra work after the wrap, couldn't help but burst out laughing.
Then.
Anson gestured to Shawn, who was standing nearby with a bucket.
"Come here, you."
Shawn: ??? Why me?
"Come on, come over."
Under Anson's beckoning, Shawn, confused but unable to resist, stepped forward.
James let out a warning scream, "No, Shawn! It's a trap!"
But it was too late.
Shawn stood in front of Anson, who took the small yellow bucket—
Ah!
James was the first to yell and run away, followed by the rest of the group. The once tightly surrounded Anson was suddenly left standing alone.
Just when everyone thought Anson was going to retaliate, he did something unexpected. He took the plastic bucket and poured the water over his own head.
With a swift motion, Anson slicked back his wet hair, and a broad smile spread across his face.
Earlier, James and the others had intended to pour the water over Anson's head, just like in those NBA or NFL games where players dump Gatorade on the coach. But they quickly realized that it's harder to pull off in real life, and instead of drenching him from the top, they ended up soaking his neck.
Now, Anson had corrected the problem for them.
He then spread his arms wide, smiling at everyone around him.
"Seize the moment, guys. I'm getting ready to fight back."
The bold and confident stance left everyone stunned. They had never seen someone turn the tables on a prank like this.
Kirsten was the first to snap out of it.
She rushed forward a few steps, "He's alone, we've got the numbers! Attack!"
At her command, James grabbed a blue plastic bucket and charged forward, leading the way. "Charge!"
But just as quickly, he saw Kirsten make an abrupt U-turn, sprinting away at full speed.
James: ???
He, too, tried to retreat, but it was too late. Anson took a big step forward, grabbed James by the neck like an eagle catching a chick, and held him tight.
James howled, "Anson! Anson! Help!"
Anson ignored him and looked around at the hesitant crew members. "What are you waiting for? I've got him! This is your chance!"
Kirsten skidded to a halt, turned back, and threw a splash of water.
Splash!
That started a chain reaction. Everyone grabbed their colorful plastic buckets and began flinging water they had prepared earlier.
James's eyes widened in disbelief. He couldn't believe the trap he had set had become his own downfall.
"Wait—" he tried to speak, but the water splashed into his open mouth, cutting him off.
As he gasped for air, he accidentally swallowed some water, sputtering, "Wait, I swallowed it! Anson, help!"
In the meantime, Shawn, having noticed Anson's warning glance, managed to escape just in time. From a safe distance, he watched as James was soaked with water right in front of him.
Shawn stood there, dumbfounded.
He couldn't believe his eyes. Just moments ago, James had been enjoying the prank, but now, he was the one being drowned in water.
Amid the laughter and chaos, the entire set erupted into joy.
As for Sam?
The quiet, responsible guy had long since locked himself in Anson's trailer, shutting out the noise of the prank. He put on a vinyl record of "Beethoven's Symphony No. 5," brewed a cup of coffee, and hummed along to the music while nodding his head to the rhythm.
For a moment, the set turned into a chaotic scene of playful fighting, and the wrap party unofficially kicked off in a way no one had anticipated.
Everyone was wrapped up in the fun, so no one noticed two unfamiliar figures quietly appear on set.
One was a chubby middle-aged man with a round face, round belly, round fingers, and even a shiny round forehead, thanks to his receding hairline. His round eyes and round nose were framed by a scruffy beard that made his whole face look even rounder.
Beside him stood an elderly man with gray hair and a neatly trimmed gray beard. His dignified air was enhanced by the navy blue suit he wore, though it looked somewhat out of place in the still-warm October weather of Los Angeles.
The two of them looked like they had just arrived from another planet, curiously observing the water fight taking place before them.
Though others might have been scared off by the chaos, they remained calmly surveying the scene.
The round-faced man's eyes lit up. "There, look. That's him."
The gray-haired man raised his chin slightly. "Hmm…" He paused, looking thoughtfully. "His build and presence… not quite right, but there's definitely a certain charm. You know, the first time I saw Johnny, he had this rebellious, world-weary air about him. This guy seems a bit too bright and cheerful."
The round-faced man chuckled. "But the charisma is the same."
The gray-haired man nodded. "He stands out in a crowd, that's for sure. Height-wise, he's similar too. Honestly, there's only one Johnny, so finding someone similar isn't easy."
The round-faced man didn't mind, rubbing his hands together. "Why don't we go up and talk to him? Personality, charm, conversation skills—all of that matters too."
The gray-haired man pondered for a moment. "True."
The round-faced man pressed on, "Besides, with him on board, Sony-Columbia will definitely invest." Without waiting for a response, he eagerly took a step forward.
The gray-haired man hesitated briefly before following.