Logan, hauling an SUV-trunk full of fancy video equipment, helped Megan and I shoot a short film for the (still untitled) project we're working on. Logan, like myself, is an alum of Comedy Corner, who moved to Chicago after college to take a crack at improv. Only, you know, many years after me.

Megan: This is going so much better than the commercial I shot this week.

Megan shot a commercial for a gym, where she played a woman throwing a baby shower for a friend who turns out to not really be pregnant, just, uh...

Megan: Fat. The director kept saying things to the main actress like, "Okay, now we want you to rub your belly and look ashamed," and, "Be more disappointed in yourself." There was a table full of party snacks that we weren't supposed to eat, but I totally ate them.

Our own shoot seemed to go well (beyond my own lingering feelings that I could be doing a better acting job). After each shot Megan and I would improvise stupid and unusable extra bits for our own amusement. Then we'd realize that Logan was patiently standing there, holding a heavy boom mic.

Logan: It's okay. We're just... we're running out of tape.