Erin Ptah (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ptahrrific) wrote2007-07-18 08:57 pm
ptahrrific) wrote2007-07-18 08:57 pm
Entry tags:
Fake News: Expecting, Chapter 6
Title: Expecting, Chapter 6: The Sins Of The Papa
Series: The Colbert Report
Rating: PG-13 for this part
Warnings: Language, sensuality, Bill O'Reilly
Words: ~2300
Disclaimer: Two.
For the Report characters: They and their universe are property of Stephen Colbert, the other Report writers, and of course Viacom. Not mine. Sue me not, please.
And for the real people, the poem:
Please, make no mistake:
these people aren't fake,
but what's said here is no more than fiction.
It only was writ
because we like their wit
and wisecracks, and pull-squints, and diction.
We don't mean to quibble,
but this can't be libel;
it's never implied to be real.
No disrespect's meant;
if you disapprove, then,
the back button's right up there. Deal.
Notes: For the purposes of this fic, Stephen was O'Reilly's guest on Friday (the 19th) rather than Thursday (the 18th, also when Bill appeared on the Report).
Clips referenced: Bill O; Stephen's past 'professional' names; the aftermath.
For the full table of contents to this story, click here.
Chapter 6
The Sins Of The Papa
January 8, 2007
12 Weeks
"In the interest of full disclosure, gay.com actually gave me an award this year, probably due to a clerical error — which is strange, because those people are usually so neat."
It was the first Monday of the year. The Colboard was back online, No Fact Zone was back in action, and Stephen was back at his desk, nine pounds heavier but with a suit so carefully tailored that nobody could (yet) tell the difference.
In the Colbert Nation, life was good.
"And, speaking of the gays," added that Nation's glorious leader, the camera and the audience following him eagerly as he turned, "they're in the news again — four of them, to be specific. Two men and two women. I don't need to tell you their names, because they've been mentioned on CNN, ABC, MSNBC, CNBC, Fox, in the New York Times, the New York Post, the USA Today, and, well, every other paper and station we could find. And believe me, I had my interns stay up all night googling them.
"But of course, Nation, you know that a story has not received full coverage until it has made it to the Report — which is why it's the subject of tonight's Wørd."
In the studio and across the country, a cheer rose from every throat that had felt the loss of the segment for two long weeks.
"What Goes Around Comes Around!" shouted Stephen over the cheers.
"You all remember, of course," he continued, "that I first came up with the idea of getting pregnant when I thought about my position on stem cell research. Like the President, I opposed the use of embryos created for in vitro fertilization, or IVF.
"Now, when the first IVF pregnancy was performed thirty years ago, a lot of people were concerned that it would lead to things like cloning and 'designer babies'."
Can I Get One In Plaid? asked the bullet.
"None of it actually came to pass, but that doesn't mean those concerns were wrong; it just means we jumped the gun a little, because those are the concerns we have about stem cell research today. In another thirty years we'll probably be worrying that a different procedure will lead to clones."
Maybe Actual Cloning, mused the bullet.
"IVF is typically used today for couples who are having trouble conceiving. All it means is that a doctor gets sperm and eggs from the parents, has the eggs fertilized in a lab, and injects them into the mother after they've developed a little. Which is, I gotta say, a lot less hot than I was hoping when I heard that there were three people involved."
Ice Cream Threeways Are Hotter.
"Anyway, they do this with a whole lot of eggs, to increase the chance of one of them taking. That's why couples who conceive with IVF have a higher rate of multiple births, and why there are often extra eggs left over.
"Now, I don't have a problem with this. If God didn't want these people having lots of kids, he could have made them unable to conceive at all."
Or Told Believers To Protest IVF, snarked the bullet.
"My problem is when the gays get into it. If gay people want children, they should do it the old-fashioned way: repress themselves into loveless marriages.
"But the two women in this story, a lesbian couple, married in Massachusetts after being together for eight years — that's another reason why the gays shouldn't get married: it takes them far too long to make a commitment! — they decided they wanted kids. So one of them went to an old friend of hers, a dude, also gay-married — he and his 'husband' are the two guys in the story — and they worked out a deal where he'd provide the sperm, she'd get pregnant, and they'd split the kids."
If Single Birth, Each Get Half.
"What makes me care about this story — besides the fact that this dude is clearly cutting into sales of my own processed sperm product, Formula 401 — is that, even though their records are supposed to be anonymous, some enterprising young reporter hacked into the clinic database and found that one of the leftover embryos prepared for this pregnancy is the one that I'm carrying right now."
Is There A Pulitzer For Stalking?
"Ever since the story broke, these two couples have had news vans camped out on their street, people taking photos of their kids, all kinds of publicity. They must love it, finally getting to be in the spotlight."
It's Totally Harmless, Charlene!
"Like I said, you can tune in to any other network to see that; they'll probably give it full coverage, at least until the next time Paris Hilton sneezes. Still, Nation, this is great news, and not just because it's kept the press from covering the fact that my divorce just went through.
"The embryos that grew into the kids these couples are raising are lost, cursed to the terrible fate of having four caring and responsible gay parental figures. But this one—" and here he pointed to his stomach— "is safely out of their deviant clutches."
Stephen Thinks A Lot About Their Deviant Clutches.
"Maybe my boy does have some kind of predisposition to being gay, but don't worry; I will watch him like an eagle, and if he shows the slightest symptoms I will put him back on the straight and narrow immediately.
"They start early, but I'll be prepared. Like, say, if he's six years old and I catch him playing a little too closely with some of his friends, I will sit him right down and I will tell him that it is unnatural and a sin to do things like that with other boys. And I will say that he had better chase the girls around on the playground like a proper boy, and then grow up and get a girlfriend the way God wants him to—" there was something wrong with Stephen's voice; it had started to go wobbly— "or else, he will be unnatural, and a disappointment to his family, and his papa will be very ashamed of him."
Stephen was no longer looking at the camera.
What Goes Around Comes Around.
"...that's the Wørd," he said, very quietly. "We'll be right back."
♦ ⋅ ◊ ⋅ ♦ ⋅ ◊ ⋅ ♦
January 19, 2007
13 Weeks
The restaurant was a nice one: chandeliers, waiters in tuxes, a jazz band playing a little light music in the corner. It was small, but the food was good. And, most importantly, it was open until well after midnight, which made it available for a light meal after Colbert's show let out.
The young pundit was sitting across from Bill, studying the menu intently. Even now, Bill wasn't sure how to read him. When he'd made his debut, Bill had figured him a pale imitator due to fade out in a few months. Then the show had picked up steam, and he'd started watching it more closely and wondering if it were some kind of parody; but no, ludicrous as he could be, Colbert seemed in earnest. Next, Bill had started to take him for a rampant egomaniac — only to realize how much the man appeared to fawn over him.
The fawning had kept up throughout his appearance on the Report. Bill still couldn't shake the feeling that he was being mocked on some level. After all, if this were serious, it was almost embarrassing.
Either way, Colbert couldn't possibly keep it up forever.
"See anything you like?" asked Bill nonchalantly.
"I don't know, sir. Whatever you think is good. Well, there are some things I can't eat, because of the pregnancy. But other than that."
"I guess that means I can't get you drunk, then," quipped Bill.
"No, sorry. But if you want to have a little something yourself, it's okay. And I can act like I've been drinking, if you like."
Was this kid for real? "No, no, don't do that," said Bill, waving the suggestion away as casually as if people offered to act drunk for him every day. "The falafels here are pretty good. Why don't you try those?"
"All right. I will."
He hadn't batted an eye. So maybe he hadn't heard about the harassment suit; maybe the "Jon Stewart is a sexual predator" crack hadn't been a backhanded swing.
Not that Bill was ready to take it at face value, either. He had seen Colbert and Stewart together too often. It would have been easier to believe they were going at it like rabbits than to believe they didn't talk.
And that was an image Bill could have done without.
He was no fan of Stewart's, which Colbert knew full well. So was Colbert just badmouthing Stewart in order to please Bill? If he was that ready to turn on his friend, how strong could his professed devotion to his idol be?
They made small talk over bread while waiting for their entrées to arrive. Bill asked offhandedly about the other man's work, his marriage, his politics, his history; Colbert somehow managed to seem open and willing to satisfy any curiosity, without actually revealing anything.
Either he was devilishly clever, or there was nothing unusual going on and Bill was just being paranoid.
When Colbert was halfway through his falafels (which he pronounced scrumptious, even though, to Bill's utter bewilderment, he had slathered them in mustard), he was no less an enigma than he had been at the beginning of the evening.
Time to raise the stakes a little. Bill had gone back and forth over whether to play this card at all; now he was frustrated enough that he wished he had just done it on the Report. See how the little brat liked a taste of his own medicine.
"You know," he said, "I was pretty surprised when you pulled out that photoshopped picture of me..."
"Did you mind?" asked Colbert quickly. "We didn't have an actual picture of you in leather, of course, but we tried to get a model buff enough to pass for you."
"Oh, that's fine," said Bill, waving it aside. "I only bring it up because it's sort of ironic. You see, when we got this little joint visit arranged, I had my people do some research on you. You're a fascinating person, Mr. Colbert."
The man fairly beamed. If his on-air attitude was that of an attack dog, this one was a happy puppy.
"One of the things we turned up, and I don't think most people know about this, is that you used to work under another name. Caesar Honeybee. Does that sound familiar?"
At least Colbert had the sense to look nervous.
"That's right, sir. And may I say, I'm very impressed that you found out about it. I had a...second career, to supplement my income in my younger days. I used the pseudonym so that it wouldn't get back to my first employers."
"I thought so," replied Bill, nodding. "But that wasn't the only side job you had, was it? Caesar Honeybee had an alias of his own: Tyrone Hunnibi, another name for Stephen Tyrone Colbert."
Colbert had gone very pale, but he didn't back down. "You certainly did your research, sir. Well done. Again, I was young, I needed the money, and, well, I didn't want the gay porn to jeopardize the straight porn."
"Is that so? Well, in any case, we dug a little bit deeper, and then we turned up these."
He reached into his inside suit pocket and pulled out a couple of photos, which he slid face-down across the table. Colbert gingerly turned them over.
The one on top showed a figure clad only in a beaded thong, in a provocative pose: back to the camera, hand on hip, a profile with dark lashes and red lips framed by a cascade of dark hair.
"Ravin Apis," said Bill. "Apis being the scientific name for the honeybee genus." He lowered his voice. "You make a good woman, Colbert."
"Thank you, sir. Coming from you, that means a lot."
His voice was quiet but sounded pretty damned sincere.
This man, usually so allergic to anything that felt like humiliation, was taking it on a spoon and thanking Bill for it. Another canine metaphor came to mind: the dog too loyal to quit following you around, no matter how many rocks you throw at it.
There was only one rock left in his arsenal. Bill leaned forward.
"If all you're going to do tonight is pay me lip service," he hissed, "you might as well just take me back to your room and blow me."
Colbert's eyes went very wide.
"Sir," he whispered shakily, "it would be an honor."
...oh, hell, that had backfired.
Well, there was no way he was going to back down if Colbert wouldn't. Besides, this might not be so bad. The pundit had been a pretty hot woman, and the pregnancy was rounding out his shape in not unappealing ways.
If all else failed, Bill could always lie back and think of Raven.
Series: The Colbert Report
Rating: PG-13 for this part
Warnings: Language, sensuality, Bill O'Reilly
Words: ~2300
Disclaimer: Two.
For the Report characters: They and their universe are property of Stephen Colbert, the other Report writers, and of course Viacom. Not mine. Sue me not, please.
And for the real people, the poem:
Please, make no mistake:
these people aren't fake,
but what's said here is no more than fiction.
It only was writ
because we like their wit
and wisecracks, and pull-squints, and diction.
We don't mean to quibble,
but this can't be libel;
it's never implied to be real.
No disrespect's meant;
if you disapprove, then,
the back button's right up there. Deal.
Notes: For the purposes of this fic, Stephen was O'Reilly's guest on Friday (the 19th) rather than Thursday (the 18th, also when Bill appeared on the Report).
Clips referenced: Bill O; Stephen's past 'professional' names; the aftermath.
For the full table of contents to this story, click here.
Chapter 6
The Sins Of The Papa
January 8, 2007
12 Weeks
"In the interest of full disclosure, gay.com actually gave me an award this year, probably due to a clerical error — which is strange, because those people are usually so neat."
It was the first Monday of the year. The Colboard was back online, No Fact Zone was back in action, and Stephen was back at his desk, nine pounds heavier but with a suit so carefully tailored that nobody could (yet) tell the difference.
In the Colbert Nation, life was good.
"And, speaking of the gays," added that Nation's glorious leader, the camera and the audience following him eagerly as he turned, "they're in the news again — four of them, to be specific. Two men and two women. I don't need to tell you their names, because they've been mentioned on CNN, ABC, MSNBC, CNBC, Fox, in the New York Times, the New York Post, the USA Today, and, well, every other paper and station we could find. And believe me, I had my interns stay up all night googling them.
"But of course, Nation, you know that a story has not received full coverage until it has made it to the Report — which is why it's the subject of tonight's Wørd."
In the studio and across the country, a cheer rose from every throat that had felt the loss of the segment for two long weeks.
"What Goes Around Comes Around!" shouted Stephen over the cheers.
"You all remember, of course," he continued, "that I first came up with the idea of getting pregnant when I thought about my position on stem cell research. Like the President, I opposed the use of embryos created for in vitro fertilization, or IVF.
"Now, when the first IVF pregnancy was performed thirty years ago, a lot of people were concerned that it would lead to things like cloning and 'designer babies'."
Can I Get One In Plaid? asked the bullet.
"None of it actually came to pass, but that doesn't mean those concerns were wrong; it just means we jumped the gun a little, because those are the concerns we have about stem cell research today. In another thirty years we'll probably be worrying that a different procedure will lead to clones."
Maybe Actual Cloning, mused the bullet.
"IVF is typically used today for couples who are having trouble conceiving. All it means is that a doctor gets sperm and eggs from the parents, has the eggs fertilized in a lab, and injects them into the mother after they've developed a little. Which is, I gotta say, a lot less hot than I was hoping when I heard that there were three people involved."
Ice Cream Threeways Are Hotter.
"Anyway, they do this with a whole lot of eggs, to increase the chance of one of them taking. That's why couples who conceive with IVF have a higher rate of multiple births, and why there are often extra eggs left over.
"Now, I don't have a problem with this. If God didn't want these people having lots of kids, he could have made them unable to conceive at all."
Or Told Believers To Protest IVF, snarked the bullet.
"My problem is when the gays get into it. If gay people want children, they should do it the old-fashioned way: repress themselves into loveless marriages.
"But the two women in this story, a lesbian couple, married in Massachusetts after being together for eight years — that's another reason why the gays shouldn't get married: it takes them far too long to make a commitment! — they decided they wanted kids. So one of them went to an old friend of hers, a dude, also gay-married — he and his 'husband' are the two guys in the story — and they worked out a deal where he'd provide the sperm, she'd get pregnant, and they'd split the kids."
If Single Birth, Each Get Half.
"What makes me care about this story — besides the fact that this dude is clearly cutting into sales of my own processed sperm product, Formula 401 — is that, even though their records are supposed to be anonymous, some enterprising young reporter hacked into the clinic database and found that one of the leftover embryos prepared for this pregnancy is the one that I'm carrying right now."
Is There A Pulitzer For Stalking?
"Ever since the story broke, these two couples have had news vans camped out on their street, people taking photos of their kids, all kinds of publicity. They must love it, finally getting to be in the spotlight."
It's Totally Harmless, Charlene!
"Like I said, you can tune in to any other network to see that; they'll probably give it full coverage, at least until the next time Paris Hilton sneezes. Still, Nation, this is great news, and not just because it's kept the press from covering the fact that my divorce just went through.
"The embryos that grew into the kids these couples are raising are lost, cursed to the terrible fate of having four caring and responsible gay parental figures. But this one—" and here he pointed to his stomach— "is safely out of their deviant clutches."
Stephen Thinks A Lot About Their Deviant Clutches.
"Maybe my boy does have some kind of predisposition to being gay, but don't worry; I will watch him like an eagle, and if he shows the slightest symptoms I will put him back on the straight and narrow immediately.
"They start early, but I'll be prepared. Like, say, if he's six years old and I catch him playing a little too closely with some of his friends, I will sit him right down and I will tell him that it is unnatural and a sin to do things like that with other boys. And I will say that he had better chase the girls around on the playground like a proper boy, and then grow up and get a girlfriend the way God wants him to—" there was something wrong with Stephen's voice; it had started to go wobbly— "or else, he will be unnatural, and a disappointment to his family, and his papa will be very ashamed of him."
Stephen was no longer looking at the camera.
What Goes Around Comes Around.
"...that's the Wørd," he said, very quietly. "We'll be right back."
January 19, 2007
13 Weeks
The restaurant was a nice one: chandeliers, waiters in tuxes, a jazz band playing a little light music in the corner. It was small, but the food was good. And, most importantly, it was open until well after midnight, which made it available for a light meal after Colbert's show let out.
The young pundit was sitting across from Bill, studying the menu intently. Even now, Bill wasn't sure how to read him. When he'd made his debut, Bill had figured him a pale imitator due to fade out in a few months. Then the show had picked up steam, and he'd started watching it more closely and wondering if it were some kind of parody; but no, ludicrous as he could be, Colbert seemed in earnest. Next, Bill had started to take him for a rampant egomaniac — only to realize how much the man appeared to fawn over him.
The fawning had kept up throughout his appearance on the Report. Bill still couldn't shake the feeling that he was being mocked on some level. After all, if this were serious, it was almost embarrassing.
Either way, Colbert couldn't possibly keep it up forever.
"See anything you like?" asked Bill nonchalantly.
"I don't know, sir. Whatever you think is good. Well, there are some things I can't eat, because of the pregnancy. But other than that."
"I guess that means I can't get you drunk, then," quipped Bill.
"No, sorry. But if you want to have a little something yourself, it's okay. And I can act like I've been drinking, if you like."
Was this kid for real? "No, no, don't do that," said Bill, waving the suggestion away as casually as if people offered to act drunk for him every day. "The falafels here are pretty good. Why don't you try those?"
"All right. I will."
He hadn't batted an eye. So maybe he hadn't heard about the harassment suit; maybe the "Jon Stewart is a sexual predator" crack hadn't been a backhanded swing.
Not that Bill was ready to take it at face value, either. He had seen Colbert and Stewart together too often. It would have been easier to believe they were going at it like rabbits than to believe they didn't talk.
And that was an image Bill could have done without.
He was no fan of Stewart's, which Colbert knew full well. So was Colbert just badmouthing Stewart in order to please Bill? If he was that ready to turn on his friend, how strong could his professed devotion to his idol be?
They made small talk over bread while waiting for their entrées to arrive. Bill asked offhandedly about the other man's work, his marriage, his politics, his history; Colbert somehow managed to seem open and willing to satisfy any curiosity, without actually revealing anything.
Either he was devilishly clever, or there was nothing unusual going on and Bill was just being paranoid.
When Colbert was halfway through his falafels (which he pronounced scrumptious, even though, to Bill's utter bewilderment, he had slathered them in mustard), he was no less an enigma than he had been at the beginning of the evening.
Time to raise the stakes a little. Bill had gone back and forth over whether to play this card at all; now he was frustrated enough that he wished he had just done it on the Report. See how the little brat liked a taste of his own medicine.
"You know," he said, "I was pretty surprised when you pulled out that photoshopped picture of me..."
"Did you mind?" asked Colbert quickly. "We didn't have an actual picture of you in leather, of course, but we tried to get a model buff enough to pass for you."
"Oh, that's fine," said Bill, waving it aside. "I only bring it up because it's sort of ironic. You see, when we got this little joint visit arranged, I had my people do some research on you. You're a fascinating person, Mr. Colbert."
The man fairly beamed. If his on-air attitude was that of an attack dog, this one was a happy puppy.
"One of the things we turned up, and I don't think most people know about this, is that you used to work under another name. Caesar Honeybee. Does that sound familiar?"
At least Colbert had the sense to look nervous.
"That's right, sir. And may I say, I'm very impressed that you found out about it. I had a...second career, to supplement my income in my younger days. I used the pseudonym so that it wouldn't get back to my first employers."
"I thought so," replied Bill, nodding. "But that wasn't the only side job you had, was it? Caesar Honeybee had an alias of his own: Tyrone Hunnibi, another name for Stephen Tyrone Colbert."
Colbert had gone very pale, but he didn't back down. "You certainly did your research, sir. Well done. Again, I was young, I needed the money, and, well, I didn't want the gay porn to jeopardize the straight porn."
"Is that so? Well, in any case, we dug a little bit deeper, and then we turned up these."
He reached into his inside suit pocket and pulled out a couple of photos, which he slid face-down across the table. Colbert gingerly turned them over.
The one on top showed a figure clad only in a beaded thong, in a provocative pose: back to the camera, hand on hip, a profile with dark lashes and red lips framed by a cascade of dark hair.
"Ravin Apis," said Bill. "Apis being the scientific name for the honeybee genus." He lowered his voice. "You make a good woman, Colbert."
"Thank you, sir. Coming from you, that means a lot."
His voice was quiet but sounded pretty damned sincere.
This man, usually so allergic to anything that felt like humiliation, was taking it on a spoon and thanking Bill for it. Another canine metaphor came to mind: the dog too loyal to quit following you around, no matter how many rocks you throw at it.
There was only one rock left in his arsenal. Bill leaned forward.
"If all you're going to do tonight is pay me lip service," he hissed, "you might as well just take me back to your room and blow me."
Colbert's eyes went very wide.
"Sir," he whispered shakily, "it would be an honor."
...oh, hell, that had backfired.
Well, there was no way he was going to back down if Colbert wouldn't. Besides, this might not be so bad. The pundit had been a pretty hot woman, and the pregnancy was rounding out his shape in not unappealing ways.
If all else failed, Bill could always lie back and think of Raven.
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Very much a "poor Stephen" chapter. It was two chapters initially, but I decided not to draw out the "poor Stephen" that long.
As always, thanks for reading!
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I'm not sure I like where this is going though.. (worried face)
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Glad you liked it!
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"..oh, hell, that had backfired." XD NO WORDS. TRYING NOT TO PICTURE IT- AHRRRGH THERE WE GO. *scrubs brain*
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And one of these days I will think to put all my thoughts into one comment- sorry for the spammage.
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I like poking at the part of him that makes him sympathetic, no matter how much he tries to hide it. (Jon also gets it; that's why Jon puts up with Stephen.)
Multiple comments are no problem ^_^
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But somehow you pull it off xD
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Glad you liked this, though ^_^
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Yay.
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Thank you!
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I'm glad I could amuse you with Stephen's pain =P
Thanks!
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Glad you like it, even if your cat doesn't =3
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Yikes!! After that last image, I won't be able to think about gay porn for at least an hour or two. XD I defintely won't look at Bill O' the same way again. I'm sorry, but eeeewww! LOL!
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I recuse myself of responsibility from the Bill O thing, as the outcome is in fact canon. I love messing with Stephen, but I wouldn't have gone that far on my own...
And thanks!
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And, oh, no, Raven/O'Reilly! XD
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Thanks =3
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"They start early, but I'll be prepared. Like, say, if he's six years old and I catch him playing a little too closely with some of his friends, I will sit him right down and I will tell him that it is unnatural and a sin to do things like that with other boys. And I will say that he had better chase the girls around on the playground like a proper boy, and then grow up and get a girlfriend the way God wants him to--" there was something wrong with Stephen's voice; it had started to go wobbly-- "or else, he will be unnatural, and a disappointment to his family, and his daddy will be very ashamed of him."
i just...that is...*cries quietly to self*
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And now you know how I feel whenever Stephen goes wibbly on TCR...
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(Anonymous) 2016-10-26 10:21 pm (UTC)(link)Zyruzro
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XD
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The gay.com bit was hilarious, here was something wrong with Stephen's voice; it had started to go wobbly- hurt me, Stephen was no longer looking at the camera. killed me and by the end of it all I wanted to go kill O'Reilly.
Though I have to admit, ...oh, hell, that had backfired made me laugh.
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"Oh, Stephen" is probably the most frequent comment on my stories (rivaled only by "poor Stephen").
...I'm going to have to put extra disclaimers on some parts of the next story, or I may have a murderous rampage on my hands.
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I love this story so much. *cuddles it*
I don't recall if Raven shows up in State of Grace .. guess I'll have to remind myself. :D
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(She gets a passing mention. That's one thing I need to handle better ^_^;)
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(Actually, if you find yourself in need of extra angst for WSIC ... *ponders*)
*makes note about Raven*
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what's totally harmless, publicity? poor Charlene; Stephen never talks about her these days.
takes too long to commit? isn't the stereotype usually just the opposite? not that i'd know; i think stereotypes are, like, bad.
...FALAFEL.
whoa, Stephen really was a porn star? several porn stars? w-where did you get that picture?
Billo trying to figure out Stephen is brilliant.
"If all you're going to do tonight is pay me lip service," he hissed, "you might as well just take me back to your room and blow me."
Colbert's eyes went very wide.
"Sir," he whispered shakily, "it would be an honor."
...oh, hell, that had backfired.
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Character!Stephen was a porn star; search for "Tyrone Hunnibi" on the website to find the clip. That particular picture, however, isn't from TCR at all, but Raven, from Wigfield (which is illustrated by photos of Amy, Paul, and Stephen dressed up as the main characters, occasionally in defiance of gender).