"...Death before dishonor."

I groaned. He did it again.

"Cut!" Michael with his megaphone. "Okay, Optimus, you were doing great, but there isn't much feeling behind those last few words. Hey, can someone get the dialogue manager in here, please? Where is Miss Felicity?"

"Michael, are you sure about this?" I ask the director quietly. "We've been at this same part for at least a half an hour."

"We gotta get it right. Optimus will get it right." He says. I watched Felicity get lifted up on a fork lift so Optimus could hear.

Here we go.

"Alright Mr. Prime, as I have told you before, it's a London dialect, so it should sound like this: 'Death before Dishonor.'"

Optimus nodded slightly. "Death before dishonor."

"No, no, no, like a king!"

"Death before dishonor."

"Ugh, no."

See, I don't exactly understand Felicity Greenbriar's method of teaching. She acts like Hermione Granger when she's working with him. And he has already threatened her a couple times today.

"What?" My father asks.

"Deeeeh-th befooooore dishonor!"

"This lesson could be your very last."

Make that the 7th time today, to be exact.

"If you threaten my life one more time today, I'm in my car, and I'm off home."

"Then go home."

I didn't know whether to pass out, smack my forehead, or just walk off set for the day.

This is why I said we need a different dialogue manager than her. Bring in Miss Stephanie from when we worked on Age of Extinction, for Primus sake!

"Okay, uh..." Michael scratched the back of his head nervously. "Let's just take a break. 15 minutes sound good?"