On an especially sweltering July afternoon, the sun beats down on a group of men in prison blues brawling on the yard of Atlanta’s Fulton County Jail. Then director David Janoff calls “Cut,” and Druski pops up immediately from the scorching-hot asphalt. Breaking into his trademark impish grin, he walks over to confer with Janoff and Chauncey, Druski’s writing partner and childhood friend, both of whom are also cracking up.
Druski Sets His Sights on Hollywood
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