"Boss Rush" Episode II: Warren Strikes Back
(for Episode 1, click here)
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Warnings: astro-sex, Dune references, mermaids, universes.
Summary: The debate rages on!
Author's note: It occurred to me after re-reading "Boss Rush" that it might be seen as being some sort of broadside or cheap-shot at Scott Allie (who I actually think gets an undeserved bad rap in the fandom.) That's totally not the case. I was just goofin' around. In that spirit, I offer for your consideration Episode II of "Boss Rush," with a slightly different perspective on this Srs Bsns.
*** deep within the bowels of Dark Horse headquarters ***
JONATHAN: Maybe we could... gah! I dunno. Did we hear back from legal yet about the Spuffy thing?
WARREN: Oh brother. E tu, brute?
JONATHAN: Look, I've just been thinking about it and... I mean, Andrew might have a point here...
ANDREW: Yeah, no duh...
JONATHAN: Dude, what did we say about you and the "helping?"
WARREN: Uggh. You dweebs still don't get it, do you? I mean, what this is all about?
JONATHAN: Money?
ANDREW: Fame?
WARREN: Boobs, you fools! Boobs...
ANDREW: Boobs?
JONATHAN: Look, Warren: a man can only draw so many lovely lady lumps. I'm starting to get cramps...
WARREN: No, no, no. I'm not talkin' about physical boobs. I'm talkin' metaphorical boobs. I'm talkin' about what's lies beneath the meat and milk and blood of comic books... the boobs of the soul!
JONATHAN: That wasn't just Dr. Pepper you were drinking, was it?
ANDREW: What about boys? Do boy-souls have boobs, too?
WARREN: Just shut up and listen, okay?!
JONATHAN: ...
ANDREW: ...
WARREN: Alright, so, say you got this TV show. It's pretty popular, good ratings, and its got these hot chicks on it. I mean hot chicks! Kinda chicks who wouldn't give you Quantum Leaping buttwads the time of day.
JONATHAN: Boy, that's a stretch.
WARREN: Okay, now, say you land a job as a writer for the show. Suddenly you have this power, right? You can make them do whatever you want. Get them to sing and dance all crazy, or wear horrible outfits, or make out with other hotties. Whatever your tiny, misshapen hearts desire.
ANDREW: We would be as Gods!
WARREN: Right, right. Only there's one little problem...
JONATHAN: No boobs...
WARREN: Now you're gettin' it, sparky! You see, boys, on TV you got all these other people to deal with. You got actors and their agents, directors and producers, advertisers and sponsors. Heck, you got corporate censors watching you like hawks, and little old ladies in Poughkeepsie who write angry letters every time they see the outline of a nipple! But - here, now - we don't have that problem. The Slayer belongs to us, completely. We can truly make her do anything we want! Be anything we want!
JONATHAN: Dude you are so evil right now.
WARREN: Thank you, thank you.
ANDREW: I don't know. I kinda get what you're saying. And boobs are great an' all... I mean, you guys know what a red-blooded fiend I am for the hooters... But... well, don't you think it might get a little boring after a while?
WARREN: Boring? Are you insane?
ANDREW: Well, it's just that... I mean, the graphic novel industry has really grown and matured over the past thirty years. It's become a fertile ground for transgressive artistic expression and exploration. Comics aren't just about hot babes in spandex anymore.
WARREN: Oh my god! Where did you hear that garbage?
ANDREW: Time Magazine?
WARREN: Well, it's crap! You really think what we're doing here is "art?" Were not painting the Mona Lisa, kiddies. This is commerce, plain and simple. Don't you see? We've been handed the keys to a very expensive, luxury automobile, and it is our sacred duty to not drive it into Crystal Friggin' Lake!
JONATHAN: Hey, calm down, willya?
WARREN: No-I-will-not-calm-down-Jon-a-than! You know, I am sick to death of sitting here, listening to you dueling Counselor Trois whine about art and philosophy and blah, blah, blah. Somebody around here has gotta be the Riker and fire the damn photon torpedos!
ANDREW: Actually, I think it was Tasha Yar who used to fire them. And then Worf...
WARREN: We have been given a great gift! Twenty-two pages per month of full-color glory, and you guys want to blow it on a bunch of weepy dialogue balloons about "regret and forgiveness." Hello! This isn't a Tori Amos song! This is a superhero story! You wanna know why we have goofy costumes and bug spaceships and space porn and boobs as far as the eye can see?! Because we can, that's why! That's the entire point! You geniuses want philosophy? How about "the medium is the message?" How's that for depth, you navel-gazing, Jean-Paul Sar-trekkies?!
ANDREW: Stop yelling at us, gawd!
WARREN: I don't know any other way to get through!
JONATHAN: Okay, mister smarty pants. So you explained the boob thing. But that still doesn't explain what we did with Buffy and Spike. Riddle me that, Batman!
WARREN: Dude, lemme tell you a little secret about writing. The first rule of writing is to surprise the reader. You know why we didn't do some big, crazy reunion? Because everyone was expecting that! They didn't know how it would happen, or when, or what the consequences would be. The only thing they were absolutely positive about was that it would happen. If we gave in and wrote one, then we wouldn't be writers at all. We'd be word processors. We'd be slaves. You want artistic expression? Well then you can't trap it inside some Spuffy-shaped box. You think we were gonna write something more compelling than "Chosen?" "Fool for Love?" "Once More with Feeling?" Get real!
ANDREW:...
JONATHAN:...
WARREN: Don't you see? Those moments, that whole relationship... they belong to other writers. We have to make our own mark, steer our own ship. Joss and Jane and David and Marti and the rest of them had their turn to say what they wanted to say. Now it's our turn. We need to be free, otherwise the story will suffer. Remember what happened with the Star Wars prequels? Remember the way they jammed in R2D2 and C3PO just because it was expected, and how totally lame it was? If this format has any hope of succeeding, it needs to breathe on its own. We need to defy conventions, ignore expectations. Everybody has different expectations anyway. You're never gonna satisfy them all, so you might as well cut loose and play the game your way. If history looks back and says "we suck," then fine! We sucked! But at least we didn't scurry back and forth trying to please every faction in some endless shipper war. At least we sucked on our own terms.
JONATHAN: ...
ANDREW: ...
WARREN: Am I right, or am I right?
ANDREW: ...
JONATHAN: Uh... whoa.
ANDREW: Yeah... whoa.
(On to the Episode 3 finale...)
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Warnings: astro-sex, Dune references, mermaids, universes.
Summary: The debate rages on!
Author's note: It occurred to me after re-reading "Boss Rush" that it might be seen as being some sort of broadside or cheap-shot at Scott Allie (who I actually think gets an undeserved bad rap in the fandom.) That's totally not the case. I was just goofin' around. In that spirit, I offer for your consideration Episode II of "Boss Rush," with a slightly different perspective on this Srs Bsns.
*** deep within the bowels of Dark Horse headquarters ***
JONATHAN: Maybe we could... gah! I dunno. Did we hear back from legal yet about the Spuffy thing?
WARREN: Oh brother. E tu, brute?
JONATHAN: Look, I've just been thinking about it and... I mean, Andrew might have a point here...
ANDREW: Yeah, no duh...
JONATHAN: Dude, what did we say about you and the "helping?"
WARREN: Uggh. You dweebs still don't get it, do you? I mean, what this is all about?
JONATHAN: Money?
ANDREW: Fame?
WARREN: Boobs, you fools! Boobs...
ANDREW: Boobs?
JONATHAN: Look, Warren: a man can only draw so many lovely lady lumps. I'm starting to get cramps...
WARREN: No, no, no. I'm not talkin' about physical boobs. I'm talkin' metaphorical boobs. I'm talkin' about what's lies beneath the meat and milk and blood of comic books... the boobs of the soul!
JONATHAN: That wasn't just Dr. Pepper you were drinking, was it?
ANDREW: What about boys? Do boy-souls have boobs, too?
WARREN: Just shut up and listen, okay?!
JONATHAN: ...
ANDREW: ...
WARREN: Alright, so, say you got this TV show. It's pretty popular, good ratings, and its got these hot chicks on it. I mean hot chicks! Kinda chicks who wouldn't give you Quantum Leaping buttwads the time of day.
JONATHAN: Boy, that's a stretch.
WARREN: Okay, now, say you land a job as a writer for the show. Suddenly you have this power, right? You can make them do whatever you want. Get them to sing and dance all crazy, or wear horrible outfits, or make out with other hotties. Whatever your tiny, misshapen hearts desire.
ANDREW: We would be as Gods!
WARREN: Right, right. Only there's one little problem...
JONATHAN: No boobs...
WARREN: Now you're gettin' it, sparky! You see, boys, on TV you got all these other people to deal with. You got actors and their agents, directors and producers, advertisers and sponsors. Heck, you got corporate censors watching you like hawks, and little old ladies in Poughkeepsie who write angry letters every time they see the outline of a nipple! But - here, now - we don't have that problem. The Slayer belongs to us, completely. We can truly make her do anything we want! Be anything we want!
JONATHAN: Dude you are so evil right now.
WARREN: Thank you, thank you.
ANDREW: I don't know. I kinda get what you're saying. And boobs are great an' all... I mean, you guys know what a red-blooded fiend I am for the hooters... But... well, don't you think it might get a little boring after a while?
WARREN: Boring? Are you insane?
ANDREW: Well, it's just that... I mean, the graphic novel industry has really grown and matured over the past thirty years. It's become a fertile ground for transgressive artistic expression and exploration. Comics aren't just about hot babes in spandex anymore.
WARREN: Oh my god! Where did you hear that garbage?
ANDREW: Time Magazine?
WARREN: Well, it's crap! You really think what we're doing here is "art?" Were not painting the Mona Lisa, kiddies. This is commerce, plain and simple. Don't you see? We've been handed the keys to a very expensive, luxury automobile, and it is our sacred duty to not drive it into Crystal Friggin' Lake!
JONATHAN: Hey, calm down, willya?
WARREN: No-I-will-not-calm-down-Jon-a-than! You know, I am sick to death of sitting here, listening to you dueling Counselor Trois whine about art and philosophy and blah, blah, blah. Somebody around here has gotta be the Riker and fire the damn photon torpedos!
ANDREW: Actually, I think it was Tasha Yar who used to fire them. And then Worf...
WARREN: We have been given a great gift! Twenty-two pages per month of full-color glory, and you guys want to blow it on a bunch of weepy dialogue balloons about "regret and forgiveness." Hello! This isn't a Tori Amos song! This is a superhero story! You wanna know why we have goofy costumes and bug spaceships and space porn and boobs as far as the eye can see?! Because we can, that's why! That's the entire point! You geniuses want philosophy? How about "the medium is the message?" How's that for depth, you navel-gazing, Jean-Paul Sar-trekkies?!
ANDREW: Stop yelling at us, gawd!
WARREN: I don't know any other way to get through!
JONATHAN: Okay, mister smarty pants. So you explained the boob thing. But that still doesn't explain what we did with Buffy and Spike. Riddle me that, Batman!
WARREN: Dude, lemme tell you a little secret about writing. The first rule of writing is to surprise the reader. You know why we didn't do some big, crazy reunion? Because everyone was expecting that! They didn't know how it would happen, or when, or what the consequences would be. The only thing they were absolutely positive about was that it would happen. If we gave in and wrote one, then we wouldn't be writers at all. We'd be word processors. We'd be slaves. You want artistic expression? Well then you can't trap it inside some Spuffy-shaped box. You think we were gonna write something more compelling than "Chosen?" "Fool for Love?" "Once More with Feeling?" Get real!
ANDREW:...
JONATHAN:...
WARREN: Don't you see? Those moments, that whole relationship... they belong to other writers. We have to make our own mark, steer our own ship. Joss and Jane and David and Marti and the rest of them had their turn to say what they wanted to say. Now it's our turn. We need to be free, otherwise the story will suffer. Remember what happened with the Star Wars prequels? Remember the way they jammed in R2D2 and C3PO just because it was expected, and how totally lame it was? If this format has any hope of succeeding, it needs to breathe on its own. We need to defy conventions, ignore expectations. Everybody has different expectations anyway. You're never gonna satisfy them all, so you might as well cut loose and play the game your way. If history looks back and says "we suck," then fine! We sucked! But at least we didn't scurry back and forth trying to please every faction in some endless shipper war. At least we sucked on our own terms.
JONATHAN: ...
ANDREW: ...
WARREN: Am I right, or am I right?
ANDREW: ...
JONATHAN: Uh... whoa.
ANDREW: Yeah... whoa.
(On to the Episode 3 finale...)