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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
Stats:
Published:
2020-11-05
Words:
825
Chapters:
1/1
Kudos:
12
Hits:
1,002

Day One

Summary:

Fandom: Studio 60
Pairing: Matt/Danny
Rating: PG
Summary: The men on day one.
Dis: Not mine. All Sorkin's. May he live long and keep writing.
Author's Notes: I am such Sorkin's bitch it's not even funny. The pilot aired and here I am, a second piece of fic under my belt.
Submitted through http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Makebelieve_YG.

Work Text:

 

 

Day One
by Perpetual Motion


Matt:

He skims through the coming week's rough script, pats himself down, pulls out a lighter, and torches the whole thing. The glares from Ron and Ricky only make it sweeter. "Let's try this again." He sees them reach for their legal pads. "We're using flash paper until you monkeys churn out Hamlet."

The last four pages of the next draft aren't completely terrible, so Matt allows them to live. He tucks them into a folder and torches the rest. "And again, gentlemen."

The first twelve pages of the third draft actually have some bite. Matt grins and hands them back, asks for more of the same. Burns the rest while Ron and Ricky glare and shuffle off to the other side of the room where the other writers are huddle, half-angry, half-afraid of what Matt might do next.

"If," Matt speaks loudly enough to be heard over the dark muttering in the corner, "you can hand me another ten pages that I like within the hour, I will allow one dismal piece of shit you find funny to be on the air." Matt sees Ricky rise and wonders what he'd look like with hackles. "Or I can keep torching everything until I think the entire script passes muster. But then we wouldn't have a show at all." He flicks his lighter open and closed until the entire writing staff stops glaring at him.

It takes two hours to get ten more decent pages, but Matt is a benevolent dictator and allows a shitty skit anyway. It's yet another version of "The President has bad annunciation", but he'll take it. At the very least, it's topical, and he supposes that's a start.


Danny:

Danny walks the set a half-dozen times trying to make sense of the set-up, and he just can't. He grabs a passing PA and tells him to find an assistant director. The assistant director meanders over with his hands in his pockets and raises his eyebrows as opposed to asking a question.

"This place is set up like a lawn maze."

"Yeah."

"I want to see a rundown of last week's sketches."

"Sure." The AD saunters away lazily, and Danny wonders if poking him with a stick would get any reaction at all. "Here."

The skit list doesn't make any sense at all. They're following wannabe-political humor with crass sex skits, and Danny has to wonder if "One Word Wanda" has ever been either funny or sexy. The same guy from the political skit is in the "One Word Wanda" skit, and according to the stage notes, he had to run halfway across the stage just to get into place. "What drunken monkey had the final say on the skit order?"

"Our last director."

"You didn't override him?" The AD shrugs, and Danny sighs gustily. "Do you have any reactions at all? Happiness? Sadness? Fear? An opinion?"

"This show blows. It's blown for years. They brought me here to," he air quotes, "'fix it up', and then ignored everything I said. I'm just running out my contract."

Danny grins, throws an arm around the guy's shoulders and hands him the clipboard. "Scare a PA into calling some teamsters. They'll do some rearranging and you'll tell me your ideas." The AD smiles and Danny nods. "Let's get cracking."

Together:

"What the fucking time is it?"

Danny leans on the door to the writers' room and doesn't bother to look at his watch. "Late enough that your pills have worn off."

"Well, yeah, but I was looking for an actual time." Matt gets up from his chair slowly and painfully, wincing as he straightens fully. "Any chance you can bring the car around?"

"Into the studio?"

"Yeah."

"No." Danny walks across the room and slides his arm around Matt's waist. "But you can crush me with your weight on the way there."

"Great." Matt digs his fingers into Danny's shoulder as they start moving. "Your day?"

"I rearranged the whole set, met a ridiculously laid-back AD."

"You'll fix that?"

"Oh, yeah. You?"

"Half a usable script. I had to give them 'Stupid Rednecks in Space'."

"If they're stupid, how'd they get into the Space Program?"

"You see my problem."

"At least it's not 'One Word Wanda'."

Matt shudders, winces, and curses when the wince causes pain. "Okay, and we're stopping."

Danny props Matt against the wall and props himself against Matt. "I'm going to get you a wheelchair from prop, and you're not going to bitch about it, and then we're going home, and you're taking more pills, and we're going to bed."

"No victory sex?" Matt waggles his eyebrows and leers.

Danny chuckles. "Oh, there will be victory sex." He leers back at Matt. "Tomorrow. When we're awake enough to enjoy it."

"I guess surviving day one is enough for tonight."

"Yeah," Danny pushes off from the wall and goes in search of a wheelchair.

end