Have a Cigar

(Have a Cigar),
"Concept: A Faustian record deal signed in blood and sequins, where the industry itself is a crimson-drenched she-devil.

We inhabit the gilded machinery of a 1970s record label reimagined as hell's own showroom—all mahogany, smoke, and blood-red splatter. Our Devil Girl, horns gleaming under studio lights, is the personification of an industry that devours artists while smiling through teeth. The emotional arc moves from seduction to suffocation: the camera starts smooth and complicit, then fractures as the deal tightens its grip. Photo-realistic textures—grain on the film, sheen on the blazer, wet look of the paint—ground the surreal in tactile reality.

SCENE 1: Come In Here, Dear Boy
- Location: Executive office, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a city drowned in red neon
- Action: Slow dolly forward as heavy mahogany doors part. The Devil Girl sits behind a desk, black blazer draped over bare shoulders, a cigar burning between her fingers. She rises, approaching the lens with predatory warmth. Smoke curls into the camera. Her horns catch the light like polished obsidian.
- Visual key: Seductive power—the audience should feel the pull of the invitation, the danger dressed as opportunity

SCENE 2: You're Gonna Go Far
- Location: Hallway of gold records, walls bleeding red paint that drips downward
- Action: Steadicam follows a young artist in a plain white shirt walking beside the Devil Girl. She gestures grandly at the platinum discs. Her blazer falls open as she walks—confident, unhurried, owning every inch of the corridor. The gold records reflect her horns in distorted curves. Red splatter intensifies as they walk further.
- Visual key: Gilded promise rotting at the edges—the audience should feel the gap between what's promised and what's real

SCENE 3: Which One's Pink?
- Location: Boardroom, circular table, red-splattered backdrop behind a row of identical executives
- Action: Whip pan around the table—faceless men in identical suits, mouths moving in sync. The Devil Girl stands at the head, arms spread wide, laughing. Her nudity under the blazer becomes defiance, not vulnerability—she's the only real thing in a room of copies. The camera spirals tighter until we're inside her point of view, looking down at the spectacle.
- Visual key: Absurd dehumanization—the audience should feel the alienation of being seen as product

SCENE 4: We're So Happy We Can Hardly Count
- Location: Recording studio, glass booth, red light bathing everything
- Action: The artist performs behind glass. The Devil Girl presses her palm against it, leaving a bloody handprint. Her face contorts—grin stretching too wide, horns casting long shadows. The camera pushes through the glass into the booth with the artist, who now looks suffocated. Red splatter crawls up the walls like something alive."