Fake News: The Robert Report, part 1
Jul. 17th, 2006 11:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ptahrrificTitle: The Robert Report, part 1: The Toss
Fandom: The Colbert Report (the characters), The Daily Show
Genre: Comedy
Rating: G
Words: ~900
Warnings: None, really. It's not even slashy at this point.
Disclaimer: The Colbert Report and its characters are the creation of Stephen Colbert, Eric Drysdale, and the other writers. Characters used without permission - but with love (and, more importantly from a legal standpoint, without profit).
Notes: The first fic I wrote in this fandom, back in the summer of 2006. When Rob Corddry guest-hosts The Daily Show, it causes some trouble in the Report.
The toss in question is here. Table of Contents.
The Robert Report, Part 1: The Toss
It's almost time for the cameras to start rolling, and a crisis has hit the set of The Colbert Report. A crisis of epic proportions. A crisis that could stop the entire show in its tracks.
They're out of coffee.
Fortunately, Bobby, the stage manager, is an expert at dealing with crises. He puts a new pot on—sixty percent decaf and forty percent regular, just the way Stephen likes it (read: demands it)—and has a mug on the C-shaped desk ninety seconds before the toss.
The host takes a sip and sighs approvingly. Now that the crisis has passed and he isn't busy being angry at everyone within shouting distance, he's grinning like a kid with a new toy. "Wait until Jon hears tonight's toss," he enthuses. "You just watch, Bobby—he's going to do that thing where he tries not to laugh, then giggles the girliest giggle ever . . . ."
Uh-oh.
Bobby doesn't relish the thought of Stephen's reaction when he hears this, but experience has shown that it'll be worse if the host is caught by surprise. "Um, Stephen . . . ."
"Yes, Bobby?" Stephen takes another sip of coffee.
"Jon didn't do the show tonight."
Had this been part of a script, Stephen would have been mid-sip when he heard this, and there would be coffee all over the front of Bobby's favorite black jacket. But this is reality, and the comic timing is off; Stephen's already put down the cup. So he just stares, and Bobby watches as his entire expression collapses in on itself.
"What?" Stephen finally croaks.
"Rob Corddry's filling in for him," Bobby explains. "Jon's wife went into labor this morning, so . . . ."
Fifteen seconds to the tease, and Stephen is standing up and grabbing Bobby's arm, and the mild-mannered manager with the scruffy beard and unkempt hair finds himself pushed into the chair. Stephen's chair! Five seconds—he can see the light on the camera blinking, can hear the faint strains of The Daily Show audio filtering through his headset. Three seconds—he's shaking his head at Stephen, what are you doing, you have to do the toss—
"You do it!" Stephen's hissing at Bobby.
Now in the host's chair, Bobby looks helplessly at the camera. "Yeah. Um—" A glance at his boss finds the man's face unchanged; Stephen's not backing down. (When does he ever?)
"Sorry," Bobby begins. "I'm Bobby, the stage manager—and, uh . . . ." He looks to Stephen for help, hands open in the universal gesture of Give me something, here.
"Tell him I don't work with fill-ins!" hisses Stephen sharply.
"Ap-apparently Stephen doesn't work with fill-ins," explains Bobby, toying with his pen and moving his head in what he hopes is an authoritative manner.
"So I'm having you do this!" adds his boss helpfully.
"So, he's having me do this," Bobby repeats dutifully, nodding some more.
He's never met Rob Corddry in person before, so Bobby isn't sure how the substitute host will take this; but Corddry's nodding too, which is probably a good sign. And he's a professional newsman; he does interviews all the time; if anyone can keep talking in these circumstances, it's him.
"Good. Great. Great," he says. "So, ah . . . Okay, then, um: Bobby. What's going on?"
So much for that idea.
The ball is back in Bobby's court, he's at a loss again, and what's more, his hair is falling in his eyes. He turns to Stephen, whose earlier crushed look (crushed? Stephen? Really?) has been replaced by the familiar Anger At Something That Is Most Certainly Not His Fault, Oh No. A moment later, a piece of paper is slapped down on the desk.
"Stuff," he announces.
"Great," says Corddry again, not unkindly. "Great. 'S perfect. Thanks, Bobby."
Here at last was familiar ground. "You're welcome," replies Bobby, and turns back to Stephen, hoping that's enough.
But it's all right now, because the camera has switched off, and the burden of entertaining The Daily Show's audience is entirely on Corddry—and Stephen looks like he wants his chair back. Bobby's more than happy to give it up.
They have sixty seconds until The Colbert Report's opening montage, and a new crisis is at hand: Stephen's not grinning anymore.
"I was counting on hearing that stupid giggle," he grumbles. "How dare Jon bail on me? My whole night's been thrown off. —Bobby."
The stage manager looks up from his hasty rearrangement of the papers on his clipboard. "What is it, Stephen?"
"Giggle."
". . . sorry?"
"Giggle." Stephen waves his hands expressively. "You've heard how Jon giggles. Just do that, so I can do the show. Go on."
Bobby tries his best.
He really does.
"All right, all right, that's enough," exclaims his boss, cringing and waving him away. "I'll just have to carry on somehow. If the liberal media senses weakness, they'll be all over me. Go! You're blocking the cameras on my good side."
Gratefully, Bobby retreats to the safety of the shadows. The spotlight is Stephen's place, not his. If ever he harbored any secret desires for that to change, tonight has seen them thoroughly squished.
Fandom: The Colbert Report (the characters), The Daily Show
Genre: Comedy
Rating: G
Words: ~900
Warnings: None, really. It's not even slashy at this point.
Disclaimer: The Colbert Report and its characters are the creation of Stephen Colbert, Eric Drysdale, and the other writers. Characters used without permission - but with love (and, more importantly from a legal standpoint, without profit).
Notes: The first fic I wrote in this fandom, back in the summer of 2006. When Rob Corddry guest-hosts The Daily Show, it causes some trouble in the Report.
The toss in question is here. Table of Contents.
The Robert Report, Part 1: The Toss
It's almost time for the cameras to start rolling, and a crisis has hit the set of The Colbert Report. A crisis of epic proportions. A crisis that could stop the entire show in its tracks.
They're out of coffee.
Fortunately, Bobby, the stage manager, is an expert at dealing with crises. He puts a new pot on—sixty percent decaf and forty percent regular, just the way Stephen likes it (read: demands it)—and has a mug on the C-shaped desk ninety seconds before the toss.
The host takes a sip and sighs approvingly. Now that the crisis has passed and he isn't busy being angry at everyone within shouting distance, he's grinning like a kid with a new toy. "Wait until Jon hears tonight's toss," he enthuses. "You just watch, Bobby—he's going to do that thing where he tries not to laugh, then giggles the girliest giggle ever . . . ."
Uh-oh.
Bobby doesn't relish the thought of Stephen's reaction when he hears this, but experience has shown that it'll be worse if the host is caught by surprise. "Um, Stephen . . . ."
"Yes, Bobby?" Stephen takes another sip of coffee.
"Jon didn't do the show tonight."
Had this been part of a script, Stephen would have been mid-sip when he heard this, and there would be coffee all over the front of Bobby's favorite black jacket. But this is reality, and the comic timing is off; Stephen's already put down the cup. So he just stares, and Bobby watches as his entire expression collapses in on itself.
"What?" Stephen finally croaks.
"Rob Corddry's filling in for him," Bobby explains. "Jon's wife went into labor this morning, so . . . ."
Fifteen seconds to the tease, and Stephen is standing up and grabbing Bobby's arm, and the mild-mannered manager with the scruffy beard and unkempt hair finds himself pushed into the chair. Stephen's chair! Five seconds—he can see the light on the camera blinking, can hear the faint strains of The Daily Show audio filtering through his headset. Three seconds—he's shaking his head at Stephen, what are you doing, you have to do the toss—
"You do it!" Stephen's hissing at Bobby.
Now in the host's chair, Bobby looks helplessly at the camera. "Yeah. Um—" A glance at his boss finds the man's face unchanged; Stephen's not backing down. (When does he ever?)
"Sorry," Bobby begins. "I'm Bobby, the stage manager—and, uh . . . ." He looks to Stephen for help, hands open in the universal gesture of Give me something, here.
"Tell him I don't work with fill-ins!" hisses Stephen sharply.
"Ap-apparently Stephen doesn't work with fill-ins," explains Bobby, toying with his pen and moving his head in what he hopes is an authoritative manner.
"So I'm having you do this!" adds his boss helpfully.
"So, he's having me do this," Bobby repeats dutifully, nodding some more.
He's never met Rob Corddry in person before, so Bobby isn't sure how the substitute host will take this; but Corddry's nodding too, which is probably a good sign. And he's a professional newsman; he does interviews all the time; if anyone can keep talking in these circumstances, it's him.
"Good. Great. Great," he says. "So, ah . . . Okay, then, um: Bobby. What's going on?"
So much for that idea.
The ball is back in Bobby's court, he's at a loss again, and what's more, his hair is falling in his eyes. He turns to Stephen, whose earlier crushed look (crushed? Stephen? Really?) has been replaced by the familiar Anger At Something That Is Most Certainly Not His Fault, Oh No. A moment later, a piece of paper is slapped down on the desk.
"Stuff," he announces.
"Great," says Corddry again, not unkindly. "Great. 'S perfect. Thanks, Bobby."
Here at last was familiar ground. "You're welcome," replies Bobby, and turns back to Stephen, hoping that's enough.
But it's all right now, because the camera has switched off, and the burden of entertaining The Daily Show's audience is entirely on Corddry—and Stephen looks like he wants his chair back. Bobby's more than happy to give it up.
They have sixty seconds until The Colbert Report's opening montage, and a new crisis is at hand: Stephen's not grinning anymore.
"I was counting on hearing that stupid giggle," he grumbles. "How dare Jon bail on me? My whole night's been thrown off. —Bobby."
The stage manager looks up from his hasty rearrangement of the papers on his clipboard. "What is it, Stephen?"
"Giggle."
". . . sorry?"
"Giggle." Stephen waves his hands expressively. "You've heard how Jon giggles. Just do that, so I can do the show. Go on."
Bobby tries his best.
He really does.
"All right, all right, that's enough," exclaims his boss, cringing and waving him away. "I'll just have to carry on somehow. If the liberal media senses weakness, they'll be all over me. Go! You're blocking the cameras on my good side."
Gratefully, Bobby retreats to the safety of the shadows. The spotlight is Stephen's place, not his. If ever he harbored any secret desires for that to change, tonight has seen them thoroughly squished.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-07-20 08:32 pm (UTC)I just realized that I referenced this in a fic I was writing. Such is the insidiousness of Stephen calling Jon's giggle girly. =P
The things I love about this can be most easily expressed in a list: (a) Stephen being crushed over Jon's absence, squee; (b) Bobby's hair falling in his eyes; (c)Anger At Something That Is Most Certainly Not His Fault, Oh No; and (d) sadistically, seeing all Bobby's secret desires for the spotlight squished.
=D
(no subject)
Date: 2006-07-20 09:02 pm (UTC)Ooh, a list. I like lists. I like fannish squeeing being quantified.
I also like squishing Bobby's dreams, but I plead not guilty on the grounds that he's so adorable when he's being squished.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-10-04 10:00 pm (UTC)Also, Stephen needing to hear Jon's giggle, so true.
I loved this linke: "I was counting on hearing that stupid giggle," he grumbles.
Hee!
(no subject)
Date: 2006-10-04 10:56 pm (UTC)And thank you - I love it when people point out the lines they like =3
(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-23 10:47 pm (UTC)(Psst: "Jon didn't do the show tonight tonight.")
(Yes, I am re-reading. *g*)
(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-23 11:07 pm (UTC)*fixes*