Erin Ptah (
ptahrrific) wrote2008-12-05 01:26 am
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Entry tags:
Fake News: COMFORT ME.
Title: COMFORT ME.
Rating: PG
Series: The Colbert Report
Disclaimer: This is a work of parody. The Colbert Report characters are not mine.
Wanted to make a blue period drawing out of this idea (as egged on by
infraredphaeton), but I couldn't get the pose to come together. So here are two loose sketches instead, accompanied by two ficlets. Takes place right after the election special.
The Version On The Desk
Even with the big map up on the wall, laying out the win in red and blue, I almost couldn't believe it. I would get caught up in my writing and it would feel like the world hadn't changed at all, and then it would all come back in a rush and I would find myself grinning.
Next to me at the desk, Stephen let out a fake sniffle.
I ignored it for the moment, though I tried to tamp down on my joy just a little. For my best frenemy's sake.
He sniffed again, louder and faker. I kept writing. Sooner or later I would give in, of course, but I was at least trying to teach Stephen not to drop in unannounced. I kept my eyes on the paper as I heard him getting up...
...and then it hit me, as a pair of Brooks Brothers-clad knees obscured my writing, that he might take the silence as an invitation to take drastic measures. So he had chosen the same tactic as a put-out cat: planting his butt on whatever it was that I had the audacity to pay attention to besides him.
"Jon," he announced, grabbing me by the lapels and hauling me upwards.
"Y-yes, Stephen?"
He glared down at me, teeth clenched. "I'm distraught."
"I couldn't tell."
"COMFORT ME."
(I had the mad urge to scratch behind his ears.)

The Version On The Couch

The couch bounced under the weight of Jon's sudden landing. "Uh—Stephen?"
He looked almost like one of the cushions, all pale and plushy. I kind of wanted to curl up on top of him and snuggle against him and shake it off, Col-bert, shake it off! "JON," I said angrily. Anger was an acceptable emotion. Much more acceptable than cuddly.
"Yes?"
"I'm distraught," I growled. This was maybe not the manliest of emotions, but right now, with that big stupid map all splattered with blue, I had an excuse!
"I couldn't tell," said Jon.
Jon is a bit of an idiot sometimes. He's all right, though. You just have to tell him, in clear, firm tones, what to do.
So I said: "COMFORT ME."
(It helps if you're loud.)
"Uh, sure," said Jon. "What do you want me to do?"
"If I knew that, I wouldn't need you to do it, now would I?"
"I guess not," admitted Jon, properly abashed. "Let me think . . . ."
I gave him my sternest glare, just to make sure he had proper motivation.
"How about this," he said. "Your party has been in power for the past eight years."
"Turnabout is fair play, is that it? Don't gloat at me, Stewart."
"I wasn't, just listen! They've been in power, they've expanded executive authority, they've started wars and passed laws and set precedents and made changes. Right?"
"Yes! And that's all going to change now!"
"Is it really? Eight years' worth of dama—uh, of setting policy, and you really think the Democrats—with their stunning track record of action so far—will be able to fix, er, undo it all any time soon? It would take two or three terms plus a sea change in the judiciary to wipe out everything you like from the current administration."
I thought about it. (I know, I know, I try not to encourage thinking, but this was a special occasion.) And damned if he wasn't right.
"Thanks, Jon," I said, feeling better already, as I disentangled my legs from his.
"Great," muttered Jon. "Now I'm depressed."
"Don't be such a bleeding-heart liberal," I ordered. "You'll get over it."
With that, I tried to give him a hearty, manly slap on the back. But since he was still sitting against the couch, it kind of turned into a hug.
(That's the only reason. Really. Shut up.)
Rating: PG
Series: The Colbert Report
Disclaimer: This is a work of parody. The Colbert Report characters are not mine.
Wanted to make a blue period drawing out of this idea (as egged on by
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
The Version On The Desk
Even with the big map up on the wall, laying out the win in red and blue, I almost couldn't believe it. I would get caught up in my writing and it would feel like the world hadn't changed at all, and then it would all come back in a rush and I would find myself grinning.
Next to me at the desk, Stephen let out a fake sniffle.
I ignored it for the moment, though I tried to tamp down on my joy just a little. For my best frenemy's sake.
He sniffed again, louder and faker. I kept writing. Sooner or later I would give in, of course, but I was at least trying to teach Stephen not to drop in unannounced. I kept my eyes on the paper as I heard him getting up...
...and then it hit me, as a pair of Brooks Brothers-clad knees obscured my writing, that he might take the silence as an invitation to take drastic measures. So he had chosen the same tactic as a put-out cat: planting his butt on whatever it was that I had the audacity to pay attention to besides him.
"Jon," he announced, grabbing me by the lapels and hauling me upwards.
"Y-yes, Stephen?"
He glared down at me, teeth clenched. "I'm distraught."
"I couldn't tell."
"COMFORT ME."
(I had the mad urge to scratch behind his ears.)

The Version On The Couch

The couch bounced under the weight of Jon's sudden landing. "Uh—Stephen?"
He looked almost like one of the cushions, all pale and plushy. I kind of wanted to curl up on top of him and snuggle against him and shake it off, Col-bert, shake it off! "JON," I said angrily. Anger was an acceptable emotion. Much more acceptable than cuddly.
"Yes?"
"I'm distraught," I growled. This was maybe not the manliest of emotions, but right now, with that big stupid map all splattered with blue, I had an excuse!
"I couldn't tell," said Jon.
Jon is a bit of an idiot sometimes. He's all right, though. You just have to tell him, in clear, firm tones, what to do.
So I said: "COMFORT ME."
(It helps if you're loud.)
"Uh, sure," said Jon. "What do you want me to do?"
"If I knew that, I wouldn't need you to do it, now would I?"
"I guess not," admitted Jon, properly abashed. "Let me think . . . ."
I gave him my sternest glare, just to make sure he had proper motivation.
"How about this," he said. "Your party has been in power for the past eight years."
"Turnabout is fair play, is that it? Don't gloat at me, Stewart."
"I wasn't, just listen! They've been in power, they've expanded executive authority, they've started wars and passed laws and set precedents and made changes. Right?"
"Yes! And that's all going to change now!"
"Is it really? Eight years' worth of dama—uh, of setting policy, and you really think the Democrats—with their stunning track record of action so far—will be able to fix, er, undo it all any time soon? It would take two or three terms plus a sea change in the judiciary to wipe out everything you like from the current administration."
I thought about it. (I know, I know, I try not to encourage thinking, but this was a special occasion.) And damned if he wasn't right.
"Thanks, Jon," I said, feeling better already, as I disentangled my legs from his.
"Great," muttered Jon. "Now I'm depressed."
"Don't be such a bleeding-heart liberal," I ordered. "You'll get over it."
With that, I tried to give him a hearty, manly slap on the back. But since he was still sitting against the couch, it kind of turned into a hug.
(That's the only reason. Really. Shut up.)
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Thanks!
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(And thanks!)
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(In all seriousness, I do keep reusing that pose - I've drawn about three of my OTPs in it so far ^_^; So no worries.)
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I feel like only "Stephen" could talk in capslock sans an exclamation point. That seems like a talent he would possess.
So he had chosen the same tactic as a put-out cat: planting his butt on whatever it was that I had the audacity to pay attention to besides him.
I laughed out loud at that line. SO Stephen and SO TRUE. My cat plants himself right in front of my computer all the damn time. Now I'm imagining Stephen with a cat. Talk about an epic showdown!
Lovely pictures, as well!
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...and, uh, I forget why I'm objecting to that.
Stephen with a cat. Talk about an epic showdown!
Ahahahaha. It so would be.
Thanks!
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(That's the only reason. Really. Shut up.)
Greatest closing line ever? I think so.
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(Anonymous) 2008-12-06 12:35 am (UTC)(link)~A. Fann
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(Now I want to see fic where Stephen Jr. meets that cockatoo...)
And thanks!
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AWESOME. <
AWESOME. <<only word to describe it. I love Stephen- he just seems so put out by the democratic win. lol.
And pretty pictures too! I barely have time to write, how do you find time to draw such awesome pictures and write such awesome stories while doing...you know, real life things?
<i>he had chosen the same tactic as a put-out cat</i>
...And now I'm imagining Stephen as a cat boy (cat man?). Or maybe just as a cat.
<i>Anger was an acceptable emotion. Much more acceptable than cuddly</i>
Aww...Stephen. Not wanting to say you need cuddles just proves you need cuddles more. *heartbreaks*
<i>"COMFORT ME."
(It helps if you're loud.)</i>
So true, Stephen. Volume helps with everything. snerk.
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Catboy!Stephen. Now there's a drawing and a half.
Thank you!
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Interesting in how the first version Jon describes Stephen's sniffling as fake, so it's like Stephen is just using the occasion as an excuse to be closer to him. Then in the second version, Stephen comes off as genuinely upset but subconsciously taking advantage of the situation.
And I like the comparison to a cat in the first one, because it's so spot-on.
The last line is very cute. :)
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Now I'm imagining what would happen if the Colkitty met the Colbunny...
Thanks!
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(Anonymous) 2008-12-08 10:27 pm (UTC)(link)...i took 'great, now i'm depressed' to be a reference to Stephen untangling their legs for a minute...
mm, nice pics. great as always.
yours,
Kagaya
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Also, Jon = so sweet. I bet Stephen would (metaphorically) bite if Jon tried to scratch him behind the ears, though; he's a half-feral cat.
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"Jon is a bit of an idiot sometimes. He's all right, though. You just have to tell him, in clear, firm tones, what to do."
hehe. Well, it's sort of hard for anybody to resist when you do that, Stephen, and of course it's especially hard for Jon. lol
Ok, modest unrelated request now...
Rob Riggle is leaving TDS and I am sad and need closure. Would you be able to find it in your heart to write us something short and fluffy? You wrote him into so many stories(especially with John Oliver, that is so cute, even if it's not your OTP) that I've grown sort of attached to the guy. Or is there anyone else on the internets that would provide said comfort, do you think? Thanks. : )
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There are many fine RR stories over at
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