Erin Ptah (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ptahrrific) wrote2007-08-03 07:18 pm
ptahrrific) wrote2007-08-03 07:18 pm
Entry tags:
Fake News: Expecting, Chapter 11
Title: Expecting, Chapter 11: Staff, Shorted
Series: The Colbert Report
Rating: G
Words: ~2400
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: This opens by flashing further back than this story has yet — the original clip is here. (Part of it was used in the trailer.)
Other clips referenced: Fruit Juice, part one and part two; Bobby in costume.
For the full table of contents to this story, click here.
Chapter 11
Staff, Shorted
February, 2003
Four Years Earlier
This was a bad idea.
But it was far too late to do anything about it. Steve had called in sick at the last minute, and Stephen had worked so hard on his argument, and now Ed Helms was sitting at the desk next to him and stammering, "Stephen, you're just attacking me personally...."
"Oh, am I?" demanded Stephen in his most pompous voice.
"Yes! And I don't understand why — I thought we were friends — I — I drove you to work the other day..."
And then, to Jon's great surprise, Stephen leaned forward and said gently, "Look — it's just — friends doesn't matter, okay? It isn't personal. The point is, Steve attacks me, I attack him back, then we build to some sort of dramatic conclusion, one of us wins—" He snapped his fingers. "—cut to commercial. Doesn't matter what the subject is; it's about personality, it's about conflict, it's about drama. It's a game, all right? — that's why we call it the news. It's just a game."
Ed brightened. "Cool. It's a game."
Maybe this will work out after all.
"That's the spirit. Okay. So. You, Ed, are a moron." Stephen sat back and waited.
"Right." Ed sat up a little straighter. "Well, Stephen...at least my wife didn't take my kids and run off with another woman."
Or maybe not.
He grinned from ear to ear as the audience cheered for a point well made. Stephen had gone very rigid. Jon caught Ed's eye and gave a brief, warning shake of the head; Ed's grin began to fade.
"What are you doing?" murmured Stephen at last.
Ed shrugged. "Playin' the game!"
"You're not supposed to use anything real."
"I'm sorry—" Ed laughed nervously— "you told me to attack you...."
"You're not s'posed to use anything real," choked Stephen. "You're a horrible person, you know that?"
They cut to commercial before Stephen broke down entirely; he slapped away Ed's awkward attempts to comfort him, and ended up sobbing into Jon's shoulder until they went back on-air.
The next day, Jon got a tape of the segment and sent it to the forwarding address Lorraine had left, with a simple note: He misses you.
Her reply of a week later said, in part, I honestly didn't think he cared at all, much less enough to break down like that on live television. Thanks for letting me know.
A few days after that, she returned, and Stephen was back to his old pompous, cheerful, arrogant, exuberant self — which perhaps showed how badly he had missed the point.
♦ ⋅ ◊ ⋅ ♦ ⋅ ◊ ⋅ ♦
Yesterday
The first thing Jon said was, "You're not Lorraine."
"Lorraine is, thankfully, asleep, and does not know that strange men are calling her children," said the woman on the other end of the phone, "at — what time is it? — midnight."
♦ ⋅ ◊ ⋅ ♦ ⋅ ◊ ⋅ ♦
Today
Sure enough, it was midnight. He could hear the chime of a clock from somewhere far off, maybe the next floor.
And then Jon put it together. What Mary had said earlier about "Mom and Tina." The voice he recognized. Evelyn's brief affair, several years ago now, with...
"'Tina'? Elizabeth Stamatina Fey, is that you?"
"Who is this?"
"Jon! Jon Stewart! You know me!"
"Jon!" repeated Tina Fey. "I thought you sounded familiar. Did Stephen put you up to this?"
"He didn't — listen, the kids called me, I was just calling them back — Stephen's in the operating room, hopefully giving birth, I don't even know — and they're worried, and can you blame them?"
♦ ⋅ ◊ ⋅ ♦ ⋅ ◊ ⋅ ♦
March 6, 2007
21 Weeks
"Nation, as you know, ever since I purchased a house, I have been asking for your ideas about how to decorate the nursery. Oh, and saying the brand names of a lot of baby merchandise on-air, in the hopes that they'll send me free stuff. Speaking of which: Gerber Gerber Gerber!" He shrugged. "Kid's gotta eat.
"Anyway, you heroes have been swamping the Colbert Nation website with your suggestions, and some of them, while obviously well-intentioned, are just not going to work. For example, the name of Spongebob Squarepants has come up several times. No dice, folks. If I wanted to decorate the room with a big-nosed do-gooder who has a really annoying laugh, I'd just go with Anderson Cooper."
The audience laughed and applauded until the host continued: "But!" he shouted. "Some of these suggestions are not only bad ideas, they're downright dangerous ... This is the ThreatDown!"
When the sirens had faded, he added, "Stuff Being Merchandised To My Unborn Child Edition!
"Threat number five: Dora the Explorer. This precocious preschooler has educational adventures in which she speaks in two different languages. This gives kids the idea that being bilingual is not a threat to our American way of life, and that it is actually 'cool'. Well, folks, it is not cool, and I won't stand for it. The only Spanish-speaker in my son's room will be the woman I hire to clean it.
"Threat number four: Harry Potter. A quick Google search for "Harry Potter" plus "witchcraft" will expose the seductive occult subtext of this series, as presented on many websites, some of which — and this is true — are not run by crazy people. On top of that, other sites suggest that the series is luring our innocent young minds into reading. This is worse because of Potter's pervasiveness: The pre-order version of book seven became Amazon.com's top seller in about two and a half minutes, even though the actual book is still not due out for four months. Which reminds me: Bobby, have you put in our pre-order yet?"
The monitors around the studio cut to a shot of the stage manager, who looked suddenly nervous. "Um, no..."
"Well, get to it!" He turned back to the audience. "Don't worry, I won't let the kid read it," he explained with a shrug.
"Threat number three: the Powerpuff Girls. By flying around in their pretty colored dresses, beating up bad guys right and left, and generally being tough and girly, they give their audiences the idea that female superkids can do everything the boys can. When these viewers grow up, you just know they'll want ladies to be allowed on the front lines of the military. We need more characters like those sweet Disney Princesses, who — no matter how much butt they kick in the movies — always show up on their merchandise in frilly dresses with sweet passive smiles. Now those are good role models.
"Some of you may be saying," and here he affected a voice of innocent confusion, "'but Stephen, how can you insist that fictional characters follow gender norms when you yourself are doing something that your gender has never done?' Here's how: I have a TV show. When you get your own spot on television every night, then you may question me. Until then, shut up. Movin' on.
"Threat number two: Popeye the Sailor Man. Many of you thought he would make an excellent mascot for my son's room, citing him as an icon of toughness and masculinity. Clearly, you have forgotten my groundbreaking report back on The Daily Show, in which I blew the sippy-cup lid off of Popeye's sinister collaboration with Minute Maid to forward the gay agenda.
"Now, it turns out we don't have the rights to show this footage on the Report, so we're going to just act out a bit of it for you. Meg, that's your cue."
Meg dubiously approached the desk, transcript in hand. At least this was better than her boss' original plan (in which she was supposed to break into the Daily Show's vault under cover of night and steal the original tape), as well as his Plan B (in which she was to drink some orange juice on-camera and then make out with one of the other female interns; she suspected her girlfriend would not have approved).
"Now, I'm playing me," he explained to the audience, "and Meg is playing Bob Knight, the spokesman for the Culture and Family Institute. Go ahead, Meg."
"Um, you have the first line."
"Of course I do. I was about to say it when you talked over me. Hold your horses." He composed himself, raised an eyebrow, and said, in his best old-fashioned newsman's voice, "It seems Minute Maid is airing what appears to be just another orange juice commercial. But Bob Knight has made an alarming discovery."
Meg looked down at her script and put on her best male voice. "'The interaction between Bluto and Popeye....'"
"No, no, his voice wasn't that deep. Just use your regular voice. That'll be about right."
"Um, okay. 'The interaction between Bluto and Popeye is clearly romantic.'"
"Now we're watching the commercial," he added to the audience, before resuming his pose. "Okay. Go on."
"'Well, there's the hug — when he gives him a swing. And a squeeze — it's just a little too precious to be just two guys. And there's Popeye blushing, when he's getting the tattoo. Looking like a schoolgirl, actually, instead of a tough sailor.'"
"And what is this — 'Buddies for Life'?"
"'And there's Olive Oyl, looking downright seductive; and then, a knowing look."
"The look clinches it," agreed Stephen, still in his previous-self character.
"'Yeah, it does.'"
"People like us, who are offended by this sort of thing — we don't hate homosexuals."
"'No, we don't hate homosexuals.'"
"We're just angry at the ones who turn us on."
"...what?"
He dropped back to normal. "That was good! Very natural! Okay, we're skipping a bit ahead in the piece now. You're going to play a spokeswoman for the Gay and Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation."
"Um, okay," said Meg hesitantly, though there had been nothing like this in her script.
Her boss leaned towards her, a look of unsettling intensity in his wide eyes.
"If you're a lesbian, why are you turning me on?"
"I'm calling my lawyer!" yelped Meg, and fairly flew off the stage.
"And the number one threat being merchandised to my unborn child," Stephen continued behind her, undeterred — while a graphic of Winnie the Pooh, Paddington, and Yogi appeared on one of the monitors as she ran past — "bears!"
♦ ⋅ ◊ ⋅ ♦ ⋅ ◊ ⋅ ♦
March 15, 2007
22 Weeks
Bobby had only just returned to the studio when he found himself yanked into a broom closet and the door shut behind him.
"It's so good to have you back!" whispered Tad's voice through the dark. "The stagehands have been drawing straws to see who has to wake Stephen up for rehearsal, the interns keep getting his drinks wrong, and I think Jimmy's going to have a nervous breakdown if he gets asked for one more graphic we don't have. We need you here."
"'We'?" The close quarters meant that Bobby was in refreshingly intimate proximity with Tad, but similarly intimate proximity with a mop. He edged away from the mop, which had the nice effect of pressing him closer to his sometimes-boyfriend.
Hands rested on his shoulders, holding him steady. "Bobby...why did you leave? Did Stephen say anything to indicate...?"
"Typical Stephen reasons. He wanted to replace me with the heat lamp, and even after he got rid of it he didn't realize until recently that he would have to tell me to come back. He thought I was just taking a break because I felt like it. So I'm out of vacation days for the year, and half of my sick days too."
Tad breathed a sigh of relief. "So it wasn't anything to do with us."
"Nope. He doesn't suspect a thing."
"You sound almost disappointed."
"No! Of course not!" Well, that was the truthiness. He didn't want to be disappointed. "It's just...well, it would be easier if he found out on his own, so neither of us had to tell him."
"Neither of us 'has' to tell him anyway. We had an agreement, remember?"
"Yeah, but...." Bobby shifted uneasily; something clattered to the floor. "That was back when this was just an on-and-off thing. But we've been getting more serious, and...look, I think this is worth standing up to Stephen over. I think you're worth standing up to Stephen over!"
His eyes had adjusted a bit to the dimness, but he still couldn't read Tad's expression.
"That's not your decision to make," the building manager said at last. "You'd be putting your job on the line — and mine, too. You can't just decide to do that, especially after we agreed not to."
"I didn't actually let anything slip. I swear."
"But you thought about it?"
"Yes," Bobby admitted.
And then Tad pushed him away (so that what felt like the corner of one of Stephen's self-portraits dug painfully into his back) and said, "Then from now on there won't be anything to let slip."
"But...!"
"It's scary enough working for someone like Stephen and being gay. I have no intention of being in a relationship that scares me more. I'll bring your toothbrush and stuff in tomorrow."
And with that, he opened the door and stumbled out of the closet, which was an irony that Bobby was really not in a mood to appreciate.
♦ ⋅ ◊ ⋅ ♦ ⋅ ◊ ⋅ ♦
He was alone in the break room that afternoon when Stephen came in, balancing a pile of bright green things on his stomach.
"What," asked Bobby warily, "is that?"
"Your outfit for tonight. Saturday is the last St. Patrick's Day ever, and I can't even drink, so we have to do something special."
Bobby unfolded the green waistcoat in disbelief. "Are we all going to be wearing these?"
"No, just you. You're going to be a leprechaun!"
It was a measure of how far gone Bobby was at the time that he didn't even object.
"Fine. I'll do it."
"Of course you will." Stephen breezed out, then called over his shoulder, "Don't forget to practice your Irish brogue!"
Series: The Colbert Report
Rating: G
Words: ~2400
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: This opens by flashing further back than this story has yet — the original clip is here. (Part of it was used in the trailer.)
Other clips referenced: Fruit Juice, part one and part two; Bobby in costume.
For the full table of contents to this story, click here.
Chapter 11
Staff, Shorted
February, 2003
Four Years Earlier
This was a bad idea.
But it was far too late to do anything about it. Steve had called in sick at the last minute, and Stephen had worked so hard on his argument, and now Ed Helms was sitting at the desk next to him and stammering, "Stephen, you're just attacking me personally...."
"Oh, am I?" demanded Stephen in his most pompous voice.
"Yes! And I don't understand why — I thought we were friends — I — I drove you to work the other day..."
And then, to Jon's great surprise, Stephen leaned forward and said gently, "Look — it's just — friends doesn't matter, okay? It isn't personal. The point is, Steve attacks me, I attack him back, then we build to some sort of dramatic conclusion, one of us wins—" He snapped his fingers. "—cut to commercial. Doesn't matter what the subject is; it's about personality, it's about conflict, it's about drama. It's a game, all right? — that's why we call it the news. It's just a game."
Ed brightened. "Cool. It's a game."
Maybe this will work out after all.
"That's the spirit. Okay. So. You, Ed, are a moron." Stephen sat back and waited.
"Right." Ed sat up a little straighter. "Well, Stephen...at least my wife didn't take my kids and run off with another woman."
Or maybe not.
He grinned from ear to ear as the audience cheered for a point well made. Stephen had gone very rigid. Jon caught Ed's eye and gave a brief, warning shake of the head; Ed's grin began to fade.
"What are you doing?" murmured Stephen at last.
Ed shrugged. "Playin' the game!"
"You're not supposed to use anything real."
"I'm sorry—" Ed laughed nervously— "you told me to attack you...."
"You're not s'posed to use anything real," choked Stephen. "You're a horrible person, you know that?"
They cut to commercial before Stephen broke down entirely; he slapped away Ed's awkward attempts to comfort him, and ended up sobbing into Jon's shoulder until they went back on-air.
The next day, Jon got a tape of the segment and sent it to the forwarding address Lorraine had left, with a simple note: He misses you.
Her reply of a week later said, in part, I honestly didn't think he cared at all, much less enough to break down like that on live television. Thanks for letting me know.
A few days after that, she returned, and Stephen was back to his old pompous, cheerful, arrogant, exuberant self — which perhaps showed how badly he had missed the point.
Yesterday
The first thing Jon said was, "You're not Lorraine."
"Lorraine is, thankfully, asleep, and does not know that strange men are calling her children," said the woman on the other end of the phone, "at — what time is it? — midnight."
Today
Sure enough, it was midnight. He could hear the chime of a clock from somewhere far off, maybe the next floor.
And then Jon put it together. What Mary had said earlier about "Mom and Tina." The voice he recognized. Evelyn's brief affair, several years ago now, with...
"'Tina'? Elizabeth Stamatina Fey, is that you?"
"Who is this?"
"Jon! Jon Stewart! You know me!"
"Jon!" repeated Tina Fey. "I thought you sounded familiar. Did Stephen put you up to this?"
"He didn't — listen, the kids called me, I was just calling them back — Stephen's in the operating room, hopefully giving birth, I don't even know — and they're worried, and can you blame them?"
March 6, 2007
21 Weeks
"Nation, as you know, ever since I purchased a house, I have been asking for your ideas about how to decorate the nursery. Oh, and saying the brand names of a lot of baby merchandise on-air, in the hopes that they'll send me free stuff. Speaking of which: Gerber Gerber Gerber!" He shrugged. "Kid's gotta eat.
"Anyway, you heroes have been swamping the Colbert Nation website with your suggestions, and some of them, while obviously well-intentioned, are just not going to work. For example, the name of Spongebob Squarepants has come up several times. No dice, folks. If I wanted to decorate the room with a big-nosed do-gooder who has a really annoying laugh, I'd just go with Anderson Cooper."
The audience laughed and applauded until the host continued: "But!" he shouted. "Some of these suggestions are not only bad ideas, they're downright dangerous ... This is the ThreatDown!"
When the sirens had faded, he added, "Stuff Being Merchandised To My Unborn Child Edition!
"Threat number five: Dora the Explorer. This precocious preschooler has educational adventures in which she speaks in two different languages. This gives kids the idea that being bilingual is not a threat to our American way of life, and that it is actually 'cool'. Well, folks, it is not cool, and I won't stand for it. The only Spanish-speaker in my son's room will be the woman I hire to clean it.
"Threat number four: Harry Potter. A quick Google search for "Harry Potter" plus "witchcraft" will expose the seductive occult subtext of this series, as presented on many websites, some of which — and this is true — are not run by crazy people. On top of that, other sites suggest that the series is luring our innocent young minds into reading. This is worse because of Potter's pervasiveness: The pre-order version of book seven became Amazon.com's top seller in about two and a half minutes, even though the actual book is still not due out for four months. Which reminds me: Bobby, have you put in our pre-order yet?"
The monitors around the studio cut to a shot of the stage manager, who looked suddenly nervous. "Um, no..."
"Well, get to it!" He turned back to the audience. "Don't worry, I won't let the kid read it," he explained with a shrug.
"Threat number three: the Powerpuff Girls. By flying around in their pretty colored dresses, beating up bad guys right and left, and generally being tough and girly, they give their audiences the idea that female superkids can do everything the boys can. When these viewers grow up, you just know they'll want ladies to be allowed on the front lines of the military. We need more characters like those sweet Disney Princesses, who — no matter how much butt they kick in the movies — always show up on their merchandise in frilly dresses with sweet passive smiles. Now those are good role models.
"Some of you may be saying," and here he affected a voice of innocent confusion, "'but Stephen, how can you insist that fictional characters follow gender norms when you yourself are doing something that your gender has never done?' Here's how: I have a TV show. When you get your own spot on television every night, then you may question me. Until then, shut up. Movin' on.
"Threat number two: Popeye the Sailor Man. Many of you thought he would make an excellent mascot for my son's room, citing him as an icon of toughness and masculinity. Clearly, you have forgotten my groundbreaking report back on The Daily Show, in which I blew the sippy-cup lid off of Popeye's sinister collaboration with Minute Maid to forward the gay agenda.
"Now, it turns out we don't have the rights to show this footage on the Report, so we're going to just act out a bit of it for you. Meg, that's your cue."
Meg dubiously approached the desk, transcript in hand. At least this was better than her boss' original plan (in which she was supposed to break into the Daily Show's vault under cover of night and steal the original tape), as well as his Plan B (in which she was to drink some orange juice on-camera and then make out with one of the other female interns; she suspected her girlfriend would not have approved).
"Now, I'm playing me," he explained to the audience, "and Meg is playing Bob Knight, the spokesman for the Culture and Family Institute. Go ahead, Meg."
"Um, you have the first line."
"Of course I do. I was about to say it when you talked over me. Hold your horses." He composed himself, raised an eyebrow, and said, in his best old-fashioned newsman's voice, "It seems Minute Maid is airing what appears to be just another orange juice commercial. But Bob Knight has made an alarming discovery."
Meg looked down at her script and put on her best male voice. "'The interaction between Bluto and Popeye....'"
"No, no, his voice wasn't that deep. Just use your regular voice. That'll be about right."
"Um, okay. 'The interaction between Bluto and Popeye is clearly romantic.'"
"Now we're watching the commercial," he added to the audience, before resuming his pose. "Okay. Go on."
"'Well, there's the hug — when he gives him a swing. And a squeeze — it's just a little too precious to be just two guys. And there's Popeye blushing, when he's getting the tattoo. Looking like a schoolgirl, actually, instead of a tough sailor.'"
"And what is this — 'Buddies for Life'?"
"'And there's Olive Oyl, looking downright seductive; and then, a knowing look."
"The look clinches it," agreed Stephen, still in his previous-self character.
"'Yeah, it does.'"
"People like us, who are offended by this sort of thing — we don't hate homosexuals."
"'No, we don't hate homosexuals.'"
"We're just angry at the ones who turn us on."
"...what?"
He dropped back to normal. "That was good! Very natural! Okay, we're skipping a bit ahead in the piece now. You're going to play a spokeswoman for the Gay and Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation."
"Um, okay," said Meg hesitantly, though there had been nothing like this in her script.
Her boss leaned towards her, a look of unsettling intensity in his wide eyes.
"If you're a lesbian, why are you turning me on?"
"I'm calling my lawyer!" yelped Meg, and fairly flew off the stage.
"And the number one threat being merchandised to my unborn child," Stephen continued behind her, undeterred — while a graphic of Winnie the Pooh, Paddington, and Yogi appeared on one of the monitors as she ran past — "bears!"
March 15, 2007
22 Weeks
Bobby had only just returned to the studio when he found himself yanked into a broom closet and the door shut behind him.
"It's so good to have you back!" whispered Tad's voice through the dark. "The stagehands have been drawing straws to see who has to wake Stephen up for rehearsal, the interns keep getting his drinks wrong, and I think Jimmy's going to have a nervous breakdown if he gets asked for one more graphic we don't have. We need you here."
"'We'?" The close quarters meant that Bobby was in refreshingly intimate proximity with Tad, but similarly intimate proximity with a mop. He edged away from the mop, which had the nice effect of pressing him closer to his sometimes-boyfriend.
Hands rested on his shoulders, holding him steady. "Bobby...why did you leave? Did Stephen say anything to indicate...?"
"Typical Stephen reasons. He wanted to replace me with the heat lamp, and even after he got rid of it he didn't realize until recently that he would have to tell me to come back. He thought I was just taking a break because I felt like it. So I'm out of vacation days for the year, and half of my sick days too."
Tad breathed a sigh of relief. "So it wasn't anything to do with us."
"Nope. He doesn't suspect a thing."
"You sound almost disappointed."
"No! Of course not!" Well, that was the truthiness. He didn't want to be disappointed. "It's just...well, it would be easier if he found out on his own, so neither of us had to tell him."
"Neither of us 'has' to tell him anyway. We had an agreement, remember?"
"Yeah, but...." Bobby shifted uneasily; something clattered to the floor. "That was back when this was just an on-and-off thing. But we've been getting more serious, and...look, I think this is worth standing up to Stephen over. I think you're worth standing up to Stephen over!"
His eyes had adjusted a bit to the dimness, but he still couldn't read Tad's expression.
"That's not your decision to make," the building manager said at last. "You'd be putting your job on the line — and mine, too. You can't just decide to do that, especially after we agreed not to."
"I didn't actually let anything slip. I swear."
"But you thought about it?"
"Yes," Bobby admitted.
And then Tad pushed him away (so that what felt like the corner of one of Stephen's self-portraits dug painfully into his back) and said, "Then from now on there won't be anything to let slip."
"But...!"
"It's scary enough working for someone like Stephen and being gay. I have no intention of being in a relationship that scares me more. I'll bring your toothbrush and stuff in tomorrow."
And with that, he opened the door and stumbled out of the closet, which was an irony that Bobby was really not in a mood to appreciate.
He was alone in the break room that afternoon when Stephen came in, balancing a pile of bright green things on his stomach.
"What," asked Bobby warily, "is that?"
"Your outfit for tonight. Saturday is the last St. Patrick's Day ever, and I can't even drink, so we have to do something special."
Bobby unfolded the green waistcoat in disbelief. "Are we all going to be wearing these?"
"No, just you. You're going to be a leprechaun!"
It was a measure of how far gone Bobby was at the time that he didn't even object.
"Fine. I'll do it."
"Of course you will." Stephen breezed out, then called over his shoulder, "Don't forget to practice your Irish brogue!"
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Either you're very perceptive, or I'm very predictable. A line of dialog from chapter 13: "Is anyone on this staff straight?"
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the top of my heada list I happen to have, there's also Charlene, Esteban and the chicas, youthful helper Jaden, director Jimmy, resident cat Mr. Whiskers, lighting operator Peter Reubens, camera girl Eliza, researcher Daniel, and interns Punit and Sean.Recall that "not straight" doesn't mean "gay". Some of them are bi ^_~
But, yeah, apparently Stephen is an inadvertent queer-magnet XD
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And the switch from Yesterday to Today - that's a neat little addition.
Regarding the Meg bit: Did Stephen figure out Meg was gay, or was he actually acting out an eerily-appropriate past interview? Either way, I loved this chapter! Lots of action.
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It's also a plot-significant little addition. As you will see.
Stephen never figures out anything. All his dialog there is straight from the "Fruit Juice" report, very old-school TDS. (I should put that on DailyMotion too, come to think of it...)
Glad you enjoyed!
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Good chapter :]
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Thanks!
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And Meg having a girlfriend, awwww. ANd the bears! threatdown! *dorkily fangirls*
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Replaced the original Threatdown of the day, because who wants to hear more about Cheney's health problems? Dora and Harry are much more fun.
Thanks!
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Tad. >( You doofus.
I noticed that (or at least I don't remember) Stephen doesn't seem to be having any thoughts about the baby, more like just about the process. I was kinda disappointed when in the last chapter you cut off the appointment with Moreau telling him where the eye was. I was interested to see what he said/thought or how he reacted.
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You're right about Stephen. Despite all his talk about embryos being "tiny, frozen Americans," he hasn't fully processed the idea that there's going to be another human being involved in this. (He did talk to said human being at Christmas for a bit, when there was no one else around. But overall, his mind is indeed on the process.)
I did try to imply that he was completely absorbed in the ultrasound: it drove his inadvertent TMI out of his mind. I'll go back and make that clearer, and I'll keep a closer eye on that change in Stephen's psyche.
Thanks for reading, and thanks for thinking about it!
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I hope Tad and Bobby reconcile soon and have some hot, steamy makeup sex. :)
Great chapter as always.
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If you want hot steamy sex, this is not the story for you. But I do hope other writers will notice the sudden Tad/Bobby shortfall and step in to fill it.
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If I come up with any brilliant Tad/Bobby lovin', I'll let you know. XD
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"...If I wanted to decorate the room with a big-nosed do-gooder who has a really annoying laugh, I'd just go with Anderson Cooper."
I was drinking water a minute ago before that, and boy, am I thankful I finished up. And Irish! Liam Neeson! I gotta go though, The Daily Show's on.
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Thank you =D
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(Just keep reading!)
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And, to answer your question: almost. In this continuity, nobody on Stephen's staff is straight. He has no idea about their orientations. Some of them have no idea about their orientations. (See: the foreign exchange intern.) If it's a subconscious thing, it's extra-sub. But there it is.
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("I think you're standing up to Stephen over!" Missing worth?)
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(Arrrgh.)
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