"Whoopdee doo." Remo made a circle in the air.
"I hope that the assignment Smith has for you takes you to a harsh, inhospitable climate," Chiun said haughtily.
"As a matter of fact," Smith said, "I am sending Remo into the desert."
"A fitting place for one who is barren of respect and the milk of human kindness. I recommend the Gobi."
"Yuma."
"Even worse," Chiun cried triumphantly. "The Yuma Desert is so remote that even I have not heard of it."
"It is in Arizona, down by the Mexican border."
"What's down there?" Remo wanted to know.
"A movie."
"Can't I wait till it opens locally?"
"I meant that they are filming a movie in Yuma. You've heard of Bartholomew Bronzini? The actor?"
"No," Remo said, "I've heard of Bartholomew Bronzini the accountant, Bartholomew Bronzini the lingerie salesman, and Bartholomew Bronzini the sequin polisher. The actor I've never heard about. How about you, Chiun?"
"The famous Bronzini family is well-known for its many Bartholomews," Chiun said sagely. "Of course I am familiar with him."
"Well, I'm convinced," Remo said brightly.
"This is serious, Remo," Smith said. "Bronzini is filming his latest production in Yuma. There are labor troubles. The production is backed by a Japanese conglomerate. The film industry's main crafts union, the International Alliance of Theatrical Stage Employees, has been frozen out of the production. They are very upset. But the Japanese production is perfectly legal. Yesterday there was an altercation between a number of IATSE picketers and Bronzini himself. Several union members were killed. Bronzini himself was roughed up."
"Knowing Bronzini, he probably started it."
"You know Bronzini?" Smith asked in surprise.
"Well, not personally," Remo admitted. "But I read things about him. When he goes to a restaurant, they have to set an extra place for his ego."
"Gossip," Smith said. "Let's deal with the facts."
Remo sat up. "This doesn't sound like our job."
"It's very important. A film of this scale involves million-dollar expenditures. If this is successful, other Japanese films may be made in the United States. It could go a long way toward correcting our current trade imbalance with the Japanese."
"I got a better idea. We ship back all their cars. They all look alike anyway."
"Racist!" Chiun hissed.
"I didn't mean it the way it came out," Remo said defensively. "But isn't this a little out of out league?"
"Do not listen to him, Emperor," Chiun said. "He is trying to get out of this obviously important mission."
"I am not. If Smith says go, I'll go. I've never seen a movie made. It might be fun."
"Good," Smith said. "Your job will be to keep an eye on Bronzini. Make certain nothing happens to him: His acting career may be on the decline, but to many people he symbolizes the American dream. It would be very damaging if he were to come to harm. I've spoken to the President about this and he agrees that we should give this high priority, despite what would seem to be a situation not within our normal operating scope."
"Okay," Remo said. "I'm a bodyguard."
"Actually," Smith put in, "we've made arrangements for you to join the production as a stunt extra. It was the easiest way. And they are desperate for professionals willing to cross the picket lines."
"Does that mean I get to be in the film?" Remo asked.
Before Smith could answer, the Master of Sinanju cried out in a stricken voice.
"Remo is going to be in the movies!"
"Yes," Smith admitted. Then he realized what he had said and to whom, and hastily added, "In a manner of speaking."
Chiun said nothing. Smith relaxed again. Then Remo came up behind Chiun and tapped him on the shoulder. When the Master of Sinanju flounced around, Remo said in a taunting voice, "I'm going to be in a movie and you're only going to Disneyland."
Chiun whirled on Smith in a flurry of silken skirts. "I demand to be in this movie as well!" he cried.
"That's impossible," Smith said sharply. He glowered at Remo through his rimless eyeglasses.
"Why?" Chiun demanded. "If Remo can go, I can go. I am a better actor than he will ever be."
Smith sighed. "This has nothing to do with acting. Remo will be a stunt extra. Their faces are never seen on the screen."
"That may be good enough for Remo. But I insist upon co-star billing."
Smith buried his pinched face in his hands. And it had gone so well until now....
"Master of Sinanju," he said wearily, "please go to Disneyland. I cannot get you onto that movie set."
"Why not? I will accept a reasonable explanation." Smith lifted his head. It appeared as bloodless as a turnip. His face was faintly lighter than his gray eyes.
"Believe it or not, most big-budget film sets have tighter security than our top military installations. Film people need to safeguard their ideas from competitors. Even the smallest film these days is a multimillion-dollar undertaking. The profits they realize can easily go to eight figures. I can get Remo onto that set because he's a white male. You, on the other hand, are Korean. "
"I asked you for a reasonable explanation and you offer me bigotry. Are you saying that these movie people are prejudiced against Koreans?"
"No, what I am saying is that you're not appropriate as a stunt person, for obvious reasons."
"The reasons are not obvious to me," Chiun insisted.
"Remo, could you please explain it to him?"
"Sure," Remo said brightly. "It's very simple, Little Father. I'm going to make a movie and you're going to Disneyland and hang out with the mice and the ducks."
"What manner of white logic is this?" Chiun shrieked. "You are both conspiring to deny me stardom."