Prompt #006 - Hot
I'm leaving for a week at Topsail Island in North Carolina tonight, and I can't wait for the warm weather. So, I got this idea in my head and grabbed a prompt to kill some time.
Title: Prompt 006 - HOT
Rating: PG-13
Words: 1,648
Disclaimer: I do not own anything from/ related to TDS or TCR.
Summary: The air conditioning is on the fritz, and the Toss doesn't go according to script at all.
PROMPT #006 - Hot
“We’ll be right back!”
The Daily Show audience cheered accordingly as the camera zoomed out from the desk. Once getting the signal that the cameras were off, Jon swiped his sleeve over his face drenched in sweat and loosened his tie more. He started to fan himself rapidly as one of the stagehands ran up to him with an armful of bottled water to replenish the supply behind the desk.
“Drink up,” he said as John, Samantha, and Jason came out to replenish their parched bodies as well. Jon received his last, downing at least half of it in a single chug.
“Uhh… thank you,” Jon said after clearing his throat. “Just put the rest back here, yeah.”
“This is a nightmare,” John commented with a pant after emptying his bottle. He sat it on the desk and immediately took another. Jason nodded weakly in agreement, running his hand through his wet hair.
“Hottest day this summer and the A/C decided to take the day off,” he mumbled behind his water bottle. “We should have cancelled. The audience must be hating us right now. I’d hate us, too.”
The four of them looked up at the two hundred red-faced audience members as they fanned themselves with an assortment of belongings. Guilt dropped into Jon’s stomach as he scanned them with sympathy.
“I wish we could do something,” he found himself saying aloud.
“Commemorative water bottle?” Sam suggested after a hard swallow of water.
“Ooo! Here!”
Sam turned on heal to a nearby woman in the audience and smiled brightly, picking up one of the water bottles from the desk and lobbing it to her. The woman successfully caught it, and the audience gave a half-hearted chuckle.
“Woo! Great catch!” Sam looked back over at Jon. “See? We can do that!”
“Yeah, if we had enough,” Jon laughed, exhausted from potential dehydration. He found some strength to leave his seat and stood to address the audience.
“I’m sorry we can’t give out commemorative water bottles or procure a giant fan for you guys during the breaks,” he said. “I know you all came here probably to get away from the damn heat wave, but we decided to be assholes today and said… ‘eh, we’re going to take the air conditioning away just to fuck with ‘em.’”
The laughter was a little more pronounced at the joke as Jon had hoped, but it still lacked all that it could be from little water and excess heat.
“But really, this… this was totally unexpected as I said before, it just happened twenty minutes before you all came in, and… you can sue our building manager if you want, but he’s not to blame either,” Jon said. “Again, I apologize… We do hope you come visit again, preferably during the winter months when the heating can randomly break instead... and unfortunately there are no refunds because tickets are, in fact, free.
“So just sit tight a few more minutes while we say hi to Stephen and you can all get out of this sweatbox, okay?”
The most enthusiastic cheer yet. Jon laughed. How ironic.
“Okay!” he shouted. “Let’s go!”
Applause followed as John, Sam, and Jason ran off set and Jon situated himself at his desk again. He quickly wiped his face again and straightened his tie, reaching for another water bottle. Turning to the correct page in the script, he downed a third of the bottle as the marquees overhead lit up. He looked up as the audience was signaled to cheer, and the camera came back on. Jon inhaled deeply to muster all of his remaining enthusiasm as the third camera moved towards him.
“Welcome back! Before we go, we’re going to check in with our good friend Stephen Colbert over at The Colbert Report! Stephen!”
The volume was doubled by the addition of the Report audience, but they sounded just as lifeless as the Daily Show’s did. Jon cocked his head to the side in confusion when Stephen’s box appeared - the pundit was sweating bullets worse than he was with four water bottles on his desk, a mini-fan in hand, and a forced smile.
“Hey, Jon!” Stephen panted under the warm star-shaped lights. “Some weather we’re having, huh?”
The words didn’t match the ones on his script, and Jon was genuinely interested to know how Stephen was suffering from a broken cooling system several blocks away without any notice.
“Stephen, is… is your air out, too?” Jon asked quizzically. “There’s no way! The studio here hasn’t had air conditioning since right before the show started.”
“Same,” Stephen said with the emphasis of his pen at the camera. “There’s been sporadic reports of this throughout the week and it was only a matter of time bef…” Stephen went silent and lowered his head to his finger a moment with his eyes shut. Jon became moved to the edge of his seat as Stephen looked back up with a modest smile.
“Sorry, I was… inhaling the wonderful scent of my desk,” he chuckled. “It’s cooking like an egg on a sidewalk and it - smells - great.” He took a deep breath and released it soundly. “Smells like America. Or teen spirit, one of the two.”
A group of whoops followed, but Jon raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“Stephen? Are you okay?”
Stephen ran his dry tongue over his pasty lips and ultimately made a face of repulsion for the camera, earning a collective laugh from the fans.
“Me? I’m swell!” Stephen said happily. “Got my… mini battery-powered personal coolant,” - he shook the little green fan near his face that was obviously not doing a good enough job of keeping him cool, so he shifted his eyes innocently a time or two before throwing it at the audience - “Here. Go crazy.” The audience screamed excitedly until a lucky man came up with it triumphantly. Stephen nodded at him. “Yeah. Ebay. Big bucks, mister.”
He turned back to the camera at Jon, enveloping all of the water bottles next to him into his arms. “I’ve got my supply of empty water bottles… And! My wrist which I have previously broken is being strained due to the fact that I’ve been waving it at my face nearly six hours now at a speed that puts that mini fan to shame.”
Jon’s mouth fell open, even if it was an exaggeration. “Hours?” he asked as his colleague wiped his face with his tie. “Stephen, you look awful! You should’ve called! We could have cancelled!”
“Mm, not for the sake of the fans, Jon,” Stephen said with a disapproving shake of his head, narrowing his eyes. “It’s called sacrifice. We take care of our audience here at the Report, Jon. They show us love, we show them love.”
Stephen was not holding his character’s face as well, but Jon could see why if they were enduring worse than what he was. Still, Stephen’s shirt was soaked clear through with perspiration he just didn’t seem to be getting back. His face was flickering between ‘Stephen’ and Stephen too much, too often; like a light bulb ready to go out. He proceeded with their improvised conversation carefully and concerned.
“Yeah, it’s been horrendous over here!” Jon said. “The people said to go ahead and seat the audience and it’d be fixed by show time, but nothing’s happened yet.”
“We came prepared,” Stephen announced, “because no matter what, Colbert Nation was going to fill this room tonight!” His audience cheered, and he brought his hand to his face again trying to fight off whatever feelings of illness he had until the commercial break. Stephen finally silenced his people and recovered strongly.
“Now, we told anybody coming in that it was their choice and that they could leave at any time,” he explained. “We also handed out a bottle of Aqua Colbert to each willing audience participant tonight, but only after I drank every single drop in each bottle first.”
“Yeah, Sam had that idea, too,” Jon said slowly. Stephen closed his eyes again and nodded to pass as interested in what Jon was saying, but his smile began to slip away as he tried to take several deep breaths. Jon swallowed uncomfortably; something was wrong.
“Smart girl, that Sam Bee,” Stephen said before Jon could try for an immediate close to the toss. “She listens to her gut. I…” The hand came to the mouth again, and breaths became shorter, accompanied by the anxious tapping of his pen on the desk.
His character was entirely gone now and there was no denying it, but Stephen didn’t want to let his composure go with it. By now, even the audience was cautiously watching on bated breath as their flush host struggled to keep a bemused expression.
“I… I think this is a…”
Jon stared at him fearfully via camera. “Stephen, I think we’re going t- to go- Stephen?”
He waved his hand shakily, head still down. Stephen grumbled something incoherently, but the microphone was not picking it up clearly. Jon glanced off set to the stage manager rigidly.
Cut the damn cameras already!
“Okay, Stephen, we’re gonna l- Whoa, Stephen!”
Of all the unexpected events of that day, Jon was taken most when he witnessed Stephen’s body shut down instantaneously. He gaped in shock as the man slumped over the side of the chair in one swift motion, tipping it towards the floor gradually. Some members of the audiences screamed while most simply gasped. A woman from Stephen’s staff ran in view of the camera with another man, lifting the unconscious man from the chair and kicking it aside to lay him on the ground. The signal finally cut out and returned to a panic-stricken Jon and the stunned silence of his audience.
“That’s our show!” was all he could think to possibly force through his tight throat. “Goodnight!”
Title: Prompt 006 - HOT
Rating: PG-13
Words: 1,648
Disclaimer: I do not own anything from/ related to TDS or TCR.
Summary: The air conditioning is on the fritz, and the Toss doesn't go according to script at all.
PROMPT #006 - Hot
“We’ll be right back!”
The Daily Show audience cheered accordingly as the camera zoomed out from the desk. Once getting the signal that the cameras were off, Jon swiped his sleeve over his face drenched in sweat and loosened his tie more. He started to fan himself rapidly as one of the stagehands ran up to him with an armful of bottled water to replenish the supply behind the desk.
“Drink up,” he said as John, Samantha, and Jason came out to replenish their parched bodies as well. Jon received his last, downing at least half of it in a single chug.
“Uhh… thank you,” Jon said after clearing his throat. “Just put the rest back here, yeah.”
“This is a nightmare,” John commented with a pant after emptying his bottle. He sat it on the desk and immediately took another. Jason nodded weakly in agreement, running his hand through his wet hair.
“Hottest day this summer and the A/C decided to take the day off,” he mumbled behind his water bottle. “We should have cancelled. The audience must be hating us right now. I’d hate us, too.”
The four of them looked up at the two hundred red-faced audience members as they fanned themselves with an assortment of belongings. Guilt dropped into Jon’s stomach as he scanned them with sympathy.
“I wish we could do something,” he found himself saying aloud.
“Commemorative water bottle?” Sam suggested after a hard swallow of water.
“Ooo! Here!”
Sam turned on heal to a nearby woman in the audience and smiled brightly, picking up one of the water bottles from the desk and lobbing it to her. The woman successfully caught it, and the audience gave a half-hearted chuckle.
“Woo! Great catch!” Sam looked back over at Jon. “See? We can do that!”
“Yeah, if we had enough,” Jon laughed, exhausted from potential dehydration. He found some strength to leave his seat and stood to address the audience.
“I’m sorry we can’t give out commemorative water bottles or procure a giant fan for you guys during the breaks,” he said. “I know you all came here probably to get away from the damn heat wave, but we decided to be assholes today and said… ‘eh, we’re going to take the air conditioning away just to fuck with ‘em.’”
The laughter was a little more pronounced at the joke as Jon had hoped, but it still lacked all that it could be from little water and excess heat.
“But really, this… this was totally unexpected as I said before, it just happened twenty minutes before you all came in, and… you can sue our building manager if you want, but he’s not to blame either,” Jon said. “Again, I apologize… We do hope you come visit again, preferably during the winter months when the heating can randomly break instead... and unfortunately there are no refunds because tickets are, in fact, free.
“So just sit tight a few more minutes while we say hi to Stephen and you can all get out of this sweatbox, okay?”
The most enthusiastic cheer yet. Jon laughed. How ironic.
“Okay!” he shouted. “Let’s go!”
Applause followed as John, Sam, and Jason ran off set and Jon situated himself at his desk again. He quickly wiped his face again and straightened his tie, reaching for another water bottle. Turning to the correct page in the script, he downed a third of the bottle as the marquees overhead lit up. He looked up as the audience was signaled to cheer, and the camera came back on. Jon inhaled deeply to muster all of his remaining enthusiasm as the third camera moved towards him.
“Welcome back! Before we go, we’re going to check in with our good friend Stephen Colbert over at The Colbert Report! Stephen!”
The volume was doubled by the addition of the Report audience, but they sounded just as lifeless as the Daily Show’s did. Jon cocked his head to the side in confusion when Stephen’s box appeared - the pundit was sweating bullets worse than he was with four water bottles on his desk, a mini-fan in hand, and a forced smile.
“Hey, Jon!” Stephen panted under the warm star-shaped lights. “Some weather we’re having, huh?”
The words didn’t match the ones on his script, and Jon was genuinely interested to know how Stephen was suffering from a broken cooling system several blocks away without any notice.
“Stephen, is… is your air out, too?” Jon asked quizzically. “There’s no way! The studio here hasn’t had air conditioning since right before the show started.”
“Same,” Stephen said with the emphasis of his pen at the camera. “There’s been sporadic reports of this throughout the week and it was only a matter of time bef…” Stephen went silent and lowered his head to his finger a moment with his eyes shut. Jon became moved to the edge of his seat as Stephen looked back up with a modest smile.
“Sorry, I was… inhaling the wonderful scent of my desk,” he chuckled. “It’s cooking like an egg on a sidewalk and it - smells - great.” He took a deep breath and released it soundly. “Smells like America. Or teen spirit, one of the two.”
A group of whoops followed, but Jon raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“Stephen? Are you okay?”
Stephen ran his dry tongue over his pasty lips and ultimately made a face of repulsion for the camera, earning a collective laugh from the fans.
“Me? I’m swell!” Stephen said happily. “Got my… mini battery-powered personal coolant,” - he shook the little green fan near his face that was obviously not doing a good enough job of keeping him cool, so he shifted his eyes innocently a time or two before throwing it at the audience - “Here. Go crazy.” The audience screamed excitedly until a lucky man came up with it triumphantly. Stephen nodded at him. “Yeah. Ebay. Big bucks, mister.”
He turned back to the camera at Jon, enveloping all of the water bottles next to him into his arms. “I’ve got my supply of empty water bottles… And! My wrist which I have previously broken is being strained due to the fact that I’ve been waving it at my face nearly six hours now at a speed that puts that mini fan to shame.”
Jon’s mouth fell open, even if it was an exaggeration. “Hours?” he asked as his colleague wiped his face with his tie. “Stephen, you look awful! You should’ve called! We could have cancelled!”
“Mm, not for the sake of the fans, Jon,” Stephen said with a disapproving shake of his head, narrowing his eyes. “It’s called sacrifice. We take care of our audience here at the Report, Jon. They show us love, we show them love.”
Stephen was not holding his character’s face as well, but Jon could see why if they were enduring worse than what he was. Still, Stephen’s shirt was soaked clear through with perspiration he just didn’t seem to be getting back. His face was flickering between ‘Stephen’ and Stephen too much, too often; like a light bulb ready to go out. He proceeded with their improvised conversation carefully and concerned.
“Yeah, it’s been horrendous over here!” Jon said. “The people said to go ahead and seat the audience and it’d be fixed by show time, but nothing’s happened yet.”
“We came prepared,” Stephen announced, “because no matter what, Colbert Nation was going to fill this room tonight!” His audience cheered, and he brought his hand to his face again trying to fight off whatever feelings of illness he had until the commercial break. Stephen finally silenced his people and recovered strongly.
“Now, we told anybody coming in that it was their choice and that they could leave at any time,” he explained. “We also handed out a bottle of Aqua Colbert to each willing audience participant tonight, but only after I drank every single drop in each bottle first.”
“Yeah, Sam had that idea, too,” Jon said slowly. Stephen closed his eyes again and nodded to pass as interested in what Jon was saying, but his smile began to slip away as he tried to take several deep breaths. Jon swallowed uncomfortably; something was wrong.
“Smart girl, that Sam Bee,” Stephen said before Jon could try for an immediate close to the toss. “She listens to her gut. I…” The hand came to the mouth again, and breaths became shorter, accompanied by the anxious tapping of his pen on the desk.
His character was entirely gone now and there was no denying it, but Stephen didn’t want to let his composure go with it. By now, even the audience was cautiously watching on bated breath as their flush host struggled to keep a bemused expression.
“I… I think this is a…”
Jon stared at him fearfully via camera. “Stephen, I think we’re going t- to go- Stephen?”
He waved his hand shakily, head still down. Stephen grumbled something incoherently, but the microphone was not picking it up clearly. Jon glanced off set to the stage manager rigidly.
Cut the damn cameras already!
“Okay, Stephen, we’re gonna l- Whoa, Stephen!”
Of all the unexpected events of that day, Jon was taken most when he witnessed Stephen’s body shut down instantaneously. He gaped in shock as the man slumped over the side of the chair in one swift motion, tipping it towards the floor gradually. Some members of the audiences screamed while most simply gasped. A woman from Stephen’s staff ran in view of the camera with another man, lifting the unconscious man from the chair and kicking it aside to lay him on the ground. The signal finally cut out and returned to a panic-stricken Jon and the stunned silence of his audience.
“That’s our show!” was all he could think to possibly force through his tight throat. “Goodnight!”