"Okay now, keep steady on the horse." John heard these words and almost groaned with pain. Oh, wait, that was because his horse was trying to run away and bucked up into his crotch. He'd learned to ride one damn day ago and was still hungover from last night's king cup of peach-mango margarita.
"Calm down," she said, "you look stressed." No crap, John thought. He looked at the crowd of people across the water, just standing on dry land, in their bare feet and loose white clothing, chatting and smiling. A few of them were even holding their own king cups.
"I'm getting some hair of the dog when I get back," John muttered to himself. At least the drinks were free.
"Smile!" she said. John gritted his teeth and forced one out. He could see his sinister grin reflected in the placid island waters.
"If that witch tells me to smile one more time..." John mentally cursed the overeager director in his head. He'd done it for the free trip and booze, but making this resort commercial was a pain in the ass.