[Fic] Funny Business (1/7)
The Dark Knight's impending awesome renewed my interest in Batman. Inevitably, fic resulted. Updates should occur every few days.
I worked from my knowledge of Batman the Animated Series, but for a reader, a basic idea of Batman should do.
Also, I started writing this during the strike, so that's when it takes place. I'm sure it's a lovely period of time for you to revisit. ;)
Title: Funny Business, Part 1 (of 7)
Series: TDS, TCR, Batman
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Language, violence, clowns. Includes some comic book logic.
Summary: They say dying is easy and comedy is hard, and for writerless Jon and Stephen, it's never been more true-- until they're paid a visit by Gotham City's most notorious comedian.
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
(Jump to Part: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7)
January 7, 2008
The line alongside the television studio had grown to nearly a hundred people, and there were still twenty minutes to go before the doors opened. Despite the cold, the four girls at the front of the line chatted excitedly as they burrowed the best they could into their coats while still being able to hold cups of hot chocolate to their lips. Their position at the front was the only notable difference between them and the rest of the line, but it was why another young woman further back rose on her toes to glare at them.
"I cannot believe I'm not up there," she grumbled.
The two people in line behind her, a boy and girl cuddling for warmth, glanced at each other.
"I deserve to be up there. If it wasn't for the train delay, I would be."
"Yes," the boy said. "You told us before. More than once."
"I'm just saying! It's totally unfair!"
"Um, how's it unfair?" the other girl asked.
"Because." The complaining girl finally settled on her feet and looked at them. "This is a milestone in the history of The Colbert Report. The first show back since the strike started, without the writers. It's moments like these that a true fan should be in the best seat."
"And how are they not true fans?"
"Pah!" She folded her arms. "When I walked past them earlier, one of them was asking who Tad was. Can you believe that?" She rolled her eyes, then shot the front group another glare.
"Who's Tad?" the other girl whispered to the boy. He quickly shook his head.
"I mean really!" the irate girl continued, turning back. "I made the perfect outfit and everything!" She unzipped her coat to show them. She'd assembled a pair of pants out of American flags, and her white t-shirt displayed an iron-on print of Stephen Colbert's face surrounded by intricate squiggles of red and blue fabric paint. "I wish I hadn't forgotten my facepaint," she sighed, zipping up again.
"Yeah. Tooooo bad," the other girl said, trying to cover up her giggles.
"I just want to show my support, even though I know Stephen will pull through this," the first girl said. "Just watch. This is going to be one of the greatest shows ever!"
A bout of giggling erupted, entirely unabashed, but it didn't come from the girl cuddling with her boyfriend. The pair and the fangirl turned to look at the couple next in line behind them: a bubbly, pigtailed blonde bundled in a red wool coat and a taller, long-nosed man wearing a long trenchcoat and a hat pulled down low. The man's shoulders shook as he laughed, and he did not look at anyone. The three ahead of them looked at the woman, as if for an explanation, but she only smiled, apparently finding nothing strange.
The fangirl narrowed her eyes at the man, then snorted and turned away to resume glowering at the front of the line. "Weirdo," she muttered.
~ | ~
later
"Wait, wait," Jon said, waving his hands. "They're letting interns do what?"
"They're handling the booth over there, Chuck says," Craig repeated, one hand over the earpiece that connected him to The Daily Show's own booth. "Unless they hired a new directing crew and didn't tell you."
"Tell Chuck to get Jimmy on the line."
"He's tried that. They keep saying Jimmy's busy."
"What the hell else would he be busy with?" Jon said, exasperated. "He's the director. He's in the booth, isn't he?"
Craig shrugged. "I don't know what else to say. Chuck says they wanna go right into the toss."
"Without testing the feed?" Jon deadpanned.
"All they'll say is that it'll ruin the joke."
"Hm." Jon raised an eyebrow and frowned. "If it's that good a joke, and everything looks alright... Fine. But tell Chuck that Stephen'll hear about this from me."
Craig nodded, but he didn't look happy. "I'll tell you, it makes me nervous, them suddenly being so difficult on today of all days," he said as he walked away.
Jon watched him start chattering on his headset and gesturing to the crew. Thanks to the strike, they'd been gone for over two months, but Craig and everyone else had quickly gotten back into the swing of things. Well, with a few minor changes here and there, like being entirely without a script.
It wasn't like Jon had never worked without a teleprompter before, but stand-up still gave him the benefit of agonizing over details and delivery beforehand. In stand-up, if a joke didn't work he could rework it and try it again, or he could just trash it outright. The Daily Show, strike edition, was different. His material had to be fresh from the day's news cycle. He only had tonight to get it right, with an outline he'd developed with DJ as his only preparation. From there he was left to pretty much ramble. Sure, he had some stock jokes, ideas, and faces he could draw on, but when everything was on the fly, it wasn't guaranteed to come together in the best way possible.
Today was their first day back, and it'd turned out better than he thought it would. That didn't mean it was great; he was so out of practice that he accidentally put the audience through a fifteen minute interview. But he'd gotten them to laugh, at least, and all things considered, that was all he really wanted.
Actually, what he really wanted was for the writers' strike to be over. He wanted compassion and understanding to overtake the egos around the negotiating table. He wanted the people he cared about to get the deal they deserved and come back to work. He wanted to produce the show without feeling backed into a corner even though it saved a hundred production jobs.
But barring the miracle it would take for that to happen, putting on a decent show was the next best thing.
Only one bit left to tape now.
"Ready for the toss, Jon," Craig said with an encouraging smile.
"Ready," Jon echoed. He always looked forward to the forty-five seconds he had to talk with Stephen. Tonight it would be the highlight of the whole uncomfortable taping. Even if all Stephen offered was a smile in lieu of a short, scripted gag, it would make Jon feel better.
He wondered how nervous Stephen was, though Jon personally thought he had little reason to be. Stephen had a background in improv and was the master of his character. If The Daily Show had come out okay, the Report was bound to do just as fine, if not better. Jon didn't think it was possible for Stephen to fail at charming the pants off an audience.
"Here we go, in five, four..."
Jon took a deep breath and prepared a smile. The audience in the studio applauded on cue and Jon greeted the audience who'd be at home later that night. "Welcome back! Time to check in with our good friend, Stephen Colbert of The Colbert Report! Stephen!"
The monitor mounted on the camera in front of him flashed to Stephen's desk a couple blocks away. The seat was empty. Jon resisted smiling a little wider as he played along. "Stephen?" he said, in a mock-baffled tone. "Hey, you there?"
He expected Stephen to pop up suddenly, or dive onto the desk in front of the camera, anything, but long moments passed and there was nothing.
"Uh..." Jon chuckled nervously, glancing from Craig to the audience to Craig again. Craig spoke rapidly into his headset. The audience murmured. "Stephen?" Jon repeated. Where was he? Paranoia crashed down and Jon tapped his pen rapidly on the desk. God, he knew it, he knew it, his own show had come out okay, so of course something was going to go horribly wrong at--
"Sorry, Jonny-boy!" a voice said through the feed. "We've just had some breaking news!"
Though he was relieved to get a response, Jon frowned at the still empty desk. That voice, he recognized it from somewhere, but it wasn't Stephen. Maybe one of the crew? "Uh, what is it?" Jon asked.
"Well!" A brightly colored figure hopped over the desk and into the chair. He leaned forward eagerly and Jon gaped in horror.
A white-skinned, green-haired ghoul in a purple suit grinned at him maniacally from the monitor. Jon had been fortunate enough in the past to only have seen him on television or in newspapers. Fortune, of course, had been failing miserably lately.
"It would seem," the Joker said dramatically, eyes wide and mouth in a shocked red O, "that The Colbert Report's sycophants, staff, and star have been taken hostage by a psychotic madman!"
Jon said the only thing he could think of over the clown's peal of manic laughter and the audience's screams.
"Oh, fuck."
I worked from my knowledge of Batman the Animated Series, but for a reader, a basic idea of Batman should do.
Also, I started writing this during the strike, so that's when it takes place. I'm sure it's a lovely period of time for you to revisit. ;)
Title: Funny Business, Part 1 (of 7)
Series: TDS, TCR, Batman
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Language, violence, clowns. Includes some comic book logic.
Summary: They say dying is easy and comedy is hard, and for writerless Jon and Stephen, it's never been more true-- until they're paid a visit by Gotham City's most notorious comedian.
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
(Jump to Part: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7)
January 7, 2008
The line alongside the television studio had grown to nearly a hundred people, and there were still twenty minutes to go before the doors opened. Despite the cold, the four girls at the front of the line chatted excitedly as they burrowed the best they could into their coats while still being able to hold cups of hot chocolate to their lips. Their position at the front was the only notable difference between them and the rest of the line, but it was why another young woman further back rose on her toes to glare at them.
"I cannot believe I'm not up there," she grumbled.
The two people in line behind her, a boy and girl cuddling for warmth, glanced at each other.
"I deserve to be up there. If it wasn't for the train delay, I would be."
"Yes," the boy said. "You told us before. More than once."
"I'm just saying! It's totally unfair!"
"Um, how's it unfair?" the other girl asked.
"Because." The complaining girl finally settled on her feet and looked at them. "This is a milestone in the history of The Colbert Report. The first show back since the strike started, without the writers. It's moments like these that a true fan should be in the best seat."
"And how are they not true fans?"
"Pah!" She folded her arms. "When I walked past them earlier, one of them was asking who Tad was. Can you believe that?" She rolled her eyes, then shot the front group another glare.
"Who's Tad?" the other girl whispered to the boy. He quickly shook his head.
"I mean really!" the irate girl continued, turning back. "I made the perfect outfit and everything!" She unzipped her coat to show them. She'd assembled a pair of pants out of American flags, and her white t-shirt displayed an iron-on print of Stephen Colbert's face surrounded by intricate squiggles of red and blue fabric paint. "I wish I hadn't forgotten my facepaint," she sighed, zipping up again.
"Yeah. Tooooo bad," the other girl said, trying to cover up her giggles.
"I just want to show my support, even though I know Stephen will pull through this," the first girl said. "Just watch. This is going to be one of the greatest shows ever!"
A bout of giggling erupted, entirely unabashed, but it didn't come from the girl cuddling with her boyfriend. The pair and the fangirl turned to look at the couple next in line behind them: a bubbly, pigtailed blonde bundled in a red wool coat and a taller, long-nosed man wearing a long trenchcoat and a hat pulled down low. The man's shoulders shook as he laughed, and he did not look at anyone. The three ahead of them looked at the woman, as if for an explanation, but she only smiled, apparently finding nothing strange.
The fangirl narrowed her eyes at the man, then snorted and turned away to resume glowering at the front of the line. "Weirdo," she muttered.
~ | ~
later
"Wait, wait," Jon said, waving his hands. "They're letting interns do what?"
"They're handling the booth over there, Chuck says," Craig repeated, one hand over the earpiece that connected him to The Daily Show's own booth. "Unless they hired a new directing crew and didn't tell you."
"Tell Chuck to get Jimmy on the line."
"He's tried that. They keep saying Jimmy's busy."
"What the hell else would he be busy with?" Jon said, exasperated. "He's the director. He's in the booth, isn't he?"
Craig shrugged. "I don't know what else to say. Chuck says they wanna go right into the toss."
"Without testing the feed?" Jon deadpanned.
"All they'll say is that it'll ruin the joke."
"Hm." Jon raised an eyebrow and frowned. "If it's that good a joke, and everything looks alright... Fine. But tell Chuck that Stephen'll hear about this from me."
Craig nodded, but he didn't look happy. "I'll tell you, it makes me nervous, them suddenly being so difficult on today of all days," he said as he walked away.
Jon watched him start chattering on his headset and gesturing to the crew. Thanks to the strike, they'd been gone for over two months, but Craig and everyone else had quickly gotten back into the swing of things. Well, with a few minor changes here and there, like being entirely without a script.
It wasn't like Jon had never worked without a teleprompter before, but stand-up still gave him the benefit of agonizing over details and delivery beforehand. In stand-up, if a joke didn't work he could rework it and try it again, or he could just trash it outright. The Daily Show, strike edition, was different. His material had to be fresh from the day's news cycle. He only had tonight to get it right, with an outline he'd developed with DJ as his only preparation. From there he was left to pretty much ramble. Sure, he had some stock jokes, ideas, and faces he could draw on, but when everything was on the fly, it wasn't guaranteed to come together in the best way possible.
Today was their first day back, and it'd turned out better than he thought it would. That didn't mean it was great; he was so out of practice that he accidentally put the audience through a fifteen minute interview. But he'd gotten them to laugh, at least, and all things considered, that was all he really wanted.
Actually, what he really wanted was for the writers' strike to be over. He wanted compassion and understanding to overtake the egos around the negotiating table. He wanted the people he cared about to get the deal they deserved and come back to work. He wanted to produce the show without feeling backed into a corner even though it saved a hundred production jobs.
But barring the miracle it would take for that to happen, putting on a decent show was the next best thing.
Only one bit left to tape now.
"Ready for the toss, Jon," Craig said with an encouraging smile.
"Ready," Jon echoed. He always looked forward to the forty-five seconds he had to talk with Stephen. Tonight it would be the highlight of the whole uncomfortable taping. Even if all Stephen offered was a smile in lieu of a short, scripted gag, it would make Jon feel better.
He wondered how nervous Stephen was, though Jon personally thought he had little reason to be. Stephen had a background in improv and was the master of his character. If The Daily Show had come out okay, the Report was bound to do just as fine, if not better. Jon didn't think it was possible for Stephen to fail at charming the pants off an audience.
"Here we go, in five, four..."
Jon took a deep breath and prepared a smile. The audience in the studio applauded on cue and Jon greeted the audience who'd be at home later that night. "Welcome back! Time to check in with our good friend, Stephen Colbert of The Colbert Report! Stephen!"
The monitor mounted on the camera in front of him flashed to Stephen's desk a couple blocks away. The seat was empty. Jon resisted smiling a little wider as he played along. "Stephen?" he said, in a mock-baffled tone. "Hey, you there?"
He expected Stephen to pop up suddenly, or dive onto the desk in front of the camera, anything, but long moments passed and there was nothing.
"Uh..." Jon chuckled nervously, glancing from Craig to the audience to Craig again. Craig spoke rapidly into his headset. The audience murmured. "Stephen?" Jon repeated. Where was he? Paranoia crashed down and Jon tapped his pen rapidly on the desk. God, he knew it, he knew it, his own show had come out okay, so of course something was going to go horribly wrong at--
"Sorry, Jonny-boy!" a voice said through the feed. "We've just had some breaking news!"
Though he was relieved to get a response, Jon frowned at the still empty desk. That voice, he recognized it from somewhere, but it wasn't Stephen. Maybe one of the crew? "Uh, what is it?" Jon asked.
"Well!" A brightly colored figure hopped over the desk and into the chair. He leaned forward eagerly and Jon gaped in horror.
A white-skinned, green-haired ghoul in a purple suit grinned at him maniacally from the monitor. Jon had been fortunate enough in the past to only have seen him on television or in newspapers. Fortune, of course, had been failing miserably lately.
"It would seem," the Joker said dramatically, eyes wide and mouth in a shocked red O, "that The Colbert Report's sycophants, staff, and star have been taken hostage by a psychotic madman!"
Jon said the only thing he could think of over the clown's peal of manic laughter and the audience's screams.
"Oh, fuck."