Fic: "This Is Going To Get Weird, Isn't It." The Pretender/30 Rock crossover, PG
Blame bantha_fodder and suburbannoir for this. And The Pretender for being fandom's little black dress. Kenneth is a Pretender? Oh me! Oh my! Oh yes.
TITLE: This Is Going To Get Weird, Isn't It.
FANDOM: The Pretender/30 Rock crossover
RATING: PG, for crack
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Steve, Craig and Tina's.
This Is Going To Get Weird, Isn't It.
The Pretender/30 Rock-verses, 2nd January 2010
---
NOTES: With thanks to Pen and Erin for quotes I pillaged and the idea to begin with. There's a point of no return, people. This is it.
---
And the man at the back said
Everyone attack
The Sweet, "Ballroom Blitz"
---
It's a Tuesday when Liz Lemon thinks she sees Kenneth smoking a cigarette and swearing at a cell phone in the alley behind 30 Rockefeller.
She squints, thinking she must be having a stroke as a result of the four donuts she just ate in quick succession, all of which were washed down with the swill the Turkish bakery next to the subway station called coffee.
Her eyes pull into focus again, and there he is, grinning widely at her, and any hallucinations of a Grease-esque-bad-boy-Kenneth are gone with the first words out of his mouth.
"Good morning, Miss Lemon! Is there anything I can do for you?"
Liz narrows her eyes slightly, and orders him to get her a donut with little to no guilt.
---
She didn't find Jarod Carson hot. Not even when he arrived at her office, out of the blue, with a box of HB pencils because he "was told you liked to write with them"; and especially not when he'd ordered the exact same coffee from Cerie like it was no big deal to drink a grande extra fat no whip extra hot two pump peppermint-caramel full-caf mocha.
It probably wasn't, because (okay, she admitted to herself) he was hot and hot men were probably always ordering convoluted coffee drinks and gifting stationery; so she drank her twin coffee and chewed the end of a yellow pencil and wasn't at all surprised when he turned out to be some corporate suit from GE who liked to hit Jack on the back and laugh at jokes about golf.
She was, however, pretty damn surprised when Kenneth had swallowed the paperclip he'd been holding in his mouth for Tracy (who'd told him he needed it later for a project involving Grizz, Jonathan's cell phone and a pair of New Balance trainers), and even more so when he'd run out of the room at the sight of Jarod like he'd seen the Devil himself.
---
They ended up on a date, mainly because Jarod wore aftershave and didn't keep the tags on his suits to return later.
He didn't ask about her political motivations or what her corporate plans were, about whether she was aiming for the top rung or whether she liked the mid-level one like a bottom-feeder (Jack's words, not hers).
With interest on his face and a genuine smile that didn't seem in place to get her to put out, he'd asked about what she had on her TiVo and what she'd had for lunch, and didn't mind when she'd told him in great detail about the salami on her sandwich that was probably imported from Spain or Wisconsin or somewhere really, awesomely exotic.
He had, however, asked her a lot about Kenneth, and she wondered aloud, "what is it with him and you?"
But Jarod had just smiled and she'd grinned back and then they were having breakfast together because that's what usually came after a night in a semi-stranger's hotel room.
Actually, it usually ended with her stuff out on the landing and a disconnected phone number, so she sat in her borrowed robe and ate toast that wasn't stale and didn't think about Kenneth at all - even though she spotted his photo amongst a bazillion Pez dispensers when she'd totally not pawed through Jarod's bag when he was in the shower.
Hotel breakfasts were so good, she thought, watching him come out of the bathroom as she ate his half of the bacon and eggs and tried to trick herself into not thinking about Kenneth and whatever the hell he'd gotten himself into.
---
"So, do you like, know Kenneth or something? Are you, y'know, a secret honky-tonk farmer or something?"
"I bought you cream cakes."
"Oooh. Cream-filled!"
---
Two weeks later, Liz was having trouble zipping up her pants.
A woman, who obviously didn't have her pants held closed with a safety pin, sat in Liz's desk chair, her cigarette lit and her face set in a smile that reminded Liz of sharks. Or dragons. Or maybe dragon sharks.
"We're looking for Kenneth," was all she said, and Liz noticed the other two men in the room, sitting on her couch - the bald one, reading an old script and chuckling to himself and the older one, watching her like her old psychologist did before he told her he couldn't see her anymore (for professional reasons).
"At least you're not looking for dragon sharks, right?"
And they all stared at her, as she laughed and let it trail off and hang in the air.
"I'll…just go and get Kenneth."
---
Jack was in the hall. Liz thought she saw a gun, but -
"What is going on?"
"Lemon. Stay close to the wall. Be a cobra," and off he went, pressed against the wall.
"Miss Lemon."
Liz looked up. Kenneth peered down at her through a vent.
"Oh, brother."
---
They were hidden under the audience bleachers, behind a stack of old sumo wrestling skits from the Japanese School Girl Sumo skit from last year.
"Jarod was trying to warn me, Miss Lemon, before The Centre got to me again. I can't go back, you understand?"
She rubbed her face.
"You're a pretender."
"Yes m'am."
"You can become anyone you want to be."
He nodded, rubbing his hands together nervously.
"Why aren't you called a 'becomer', then? I mean, that would make sense, because then people wouldn't automatically associate you with an awesome New Wave band -"
"Liz. I need you to focus." His tone was sharp, and she almost jumped out of her skin at the obvious change in the hay-seed she'd come to know and - yes, really - almost love.
Well, at least like a bit.
"Do you know the best way out of the building from here?"
She rubbed her face again, damning them all for choosing a day she had mascara on to do all this weird junk.
"I dunno, Kenneth. This all sounds like the plot for a television show that could have run on this very channel from 1996 to 2000."
Kenneth rolled his eyes and grabbed her hands.
"This is all real, it's all happening. Can you get me out? Get me to Jarod?"
"I slept with Jarod," and it was out of her mouth before she could stop it and man the studio echoed loudly.
"They're in the back!" came the dragon shark woman's voice, along with the distinct sound of running in a pair of stilettos Liz was pretty sure she'd tried on in a fancy store while playing fancy ladies one lunch time (which she had fallen into a mirror because of, without even standing).
"Oh my."
"Your feet look fat in those shoes!" Liz screamed out into the studio.
And they ran, out the back way and past the teamsters who were, for all intents and purposes, completely and utterly unmoved by the whole thing.
---
Liz's phone vibrated in her pocket as she and Kenneth hit in a dumpster.
Jack Donaghy Calling
She answered.
"Lemon! You shouldn't have answered! Now they'll -"
CLICK
BANG
The light came flooding into the dumpster, a bunch of guys in black suits and Kenneth is doing ninja moves what the hell?!
Two minutes, they were all unconscious on the ground, Jarod running up to them with Jack right behind.
"You were a cobra!" Jack slapped hands with Kenneth, a car pulling up beside them.
"Get in!"
Behind the wheel was Conan, his hair taller than it had ever been. He held out his hand. "Elizabeth. Come with us if you want to live."
The dragon shark woman's voice echoed through the alley. The footsteps of what seemed like a million Centre operatives came hurtling towards them, bullets ricocheting off Conan's car and the dumpster they'd previously been hiding in.
"Do I have bin crap in my hair?"
All four men shook their heads.
"If I have to change my name, can it be Elvira Hiltenbottom?"
"Of course, Lemon."
And with that, she nodded satisfactorily and got into the car, thinking of how awesome she'll be as Elvira and not of how weird this entire thing was, because really?
Adventures were adventures were adventures, right?
---
Fin.
---
I don't even know either.
TITLE: This Is Going To Get Weird, Isn't It.
FANDOM: The Pretender/30 Rock crossover
RATING: PG, for crack
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Steve, Craig and Tina's.
This Is Going To Get Weird, Isn't It.
The Pretender/30 Rock-verses, 2nd January 2010
---
NOTES: With thanks to Pen and Erin for quotes I pillaged and the idea to begin with. There's a point of no return, people. This is it.
---
And the man at the back said
Everyone attack
The Sweet, "Ballroom Blitz"
---
It's a Tuesday when Liz Lemon thinks she sees Kenneth smoking a cigarette and swearing at a cell phone in the alley behind 30 Rockefeller.
She squints, thinking she must be having a stroke as a result of the four donuts she just ate in quick succession, all of which were washed down with the swill the Turkish bakery next to the subway station called coffee.
Her eyes pull into focus again, and there he is, grinning widely at her, and any hallucinations of a Grease-esque-bad-boy-Kenneth are gone with the first words out of his mouth.
"Good morning, Miss Lemon! Is there anything I can do for you?"
Liz narrows her eyes slightly, and orders him to get her a donut with little to no guilt.
---
She didn't find Jarod Carson hot. Not even when he arrived at her office, out of the blue, with a box of HB pencils because he "was told you liked to write with them"; and especially not when he'd ordered the exact same coffee from Cerie like it was no big deal to drink a grande extra fat no whip extra hot two pump peppermint-caramel full-caf mocha.
It probably wasn't, because (okay, she admitted to herself) he was hot and hot men were probably always ordering convoluted coffee drinks and gifting stationery; so she drank her twin coffee and chewed the end of a yellow pencil and wasn't at all surprised when he turned out to be some corporate suit from GE who liked to hit Jack on the back and laugh at jokes about golf.
She was, however, pretty damn surprised when Kenneth had swallowed the paperclip he'd been holding in his mouth for Tracy (who'd told him he needed it later for a project involving Grizz, Jonathan's cell phone and a pair of New Balance trainers), and even more so when he'd run out of the room at the sight of Jarod like he'd seen the Devil himself.
---
They ended up on a date, mainly because Jarod wore aftershave and didn't keep the tags on his suits to return later.
He didn't ask about her political motivations or what her corporate plans were, about whether she was aiming for the top rung or whether she liked the mid-level one like a bottom-feeder (Jack's words, not hers).
With interest on his face and a genuine smile that didn't seem in place to get her to put out, he'd asked about what she had on her TiVo and what she'd had for lunch, and didn't mind when she'd told him in great detail about the salami on her sandwich that was probably imported from Spain or Wisconsin or somewhere really, awesomely exotic.
He had, however, asked her a lot about Kenneth, and she wondered aloud, "what is it with him and you?"
But Jarod had just smiled and she'd grinned back and then they were having breakfast together because that's what usually came after a night in a semi-stranger's hotel room.
Actually, it usually ended with her stuff out on the landing and a disconnected phone number, so she sat in her borrowed robe and ate toast that wasn't stale and didn't think about Kenneth at all - even though she spotted his photo amongst a bazillion Pez dispensers when she'd totally not pawed through Jarod's bag when he was in the shower.
Hotel breakfasts were so good, she thought, watching him come out of the bathroom as she ate his half of the bacon and eggs and tried to trick herself into not thinking about Kenneth and whatever the hell he'd gotten himself into.
---
"So, do you like, know Kenneth or something? Are you, y'know, a secret honky-tonk farmer or something?"
"I bought you cream cakes."
"Oooh. Cream-filled!"
---
Two weeks later, Liz was having trouble zipping up her pants.
A woman, who obviously didn't have her pants held closed with a safety pin, sat in Liz's desk chair, her cigarette lit and her face set in a smile that reminded Liz of sharks. Or dragons. Or maybe dragon sharks.
"We're looking for Kenneth," was all she said, and Liz noticed the other two men in the room, sitting on her couch - the bald one, reading an old script and chuckling to himself and the older one, watching her like her old psychologist did before he told her he couldn't see her anymore (for professional reasons).
"At least you're not looking for dragon sharks, right?"
And they all stared at her, as she laughed and let it trail off and hang in the air.
"I'll…just go and get Kenneth."
---
Jack was in the hall. Liz thought she saw a gun, but -
"What is going on?"
"Lemon. Stay close to the wall. Be a cobra," and off he went, pressed against the wall.
"Miss Lemon."
Liz looked up. Kenneth peered down at her through a vent.
"Oh, brother."
---
They were hidden under the audience bleachers, behind a stack of old sumo wrestling skits from the Japanese School Girl Sumo skit from last year.
"Jarod was trying to warn me, Miss Lemon, before The Centre got to me again. I can't go back, you understand?"
She rubbed her face.
"You're a pretender."
"Yes m'am."
"You can become anyone you want to be."
He nodded, rubbing his hands together nervously.
"Why aren't you called a 'becomer', then? I mean, that would make sense, because then people wouldn't automatically associate you with an awesome New Wave band -"
"Liz. I need you to focus." His tone was sharp, and she almost jumped out of her skin at the obvious change in the hay-seed she'd come to know and - yes, really - almost love.
Well, at least like a bit.
"Do you know the best way out of the building from here?"
She rubbed her face again, damning them all for choosing a day she had mascara on to do all this weird junk.
"I dunno, Kenneth. This all sounds like the plot for a television show that could have run on this very channel from 1996 to 2000."
Kenneth rolled his eyes and grabbed her hands.
"This is all real, it's all happening. Can you get me out? Get me to Jarod?"
"I slept with Jarod," and it was out of her mouth before she could stop it and man the studio echoed loudly.
"They're in the back!" came the dragon shark woman's voice, along with the distinct sound of running in a pair of stilettos Liz was pretty sure she'd tried on in a fancy store while playing fancy ladies one lunch time (which she had fallen into a mirror because of, without even standing).
"Oh my."
"Your feet look fat in those shoes!" Liz screamed out into the studio.
And they ran, out the back way and past the teamsters who were, for all intents and purposes, completely and utterly unmoved by the whole thing.
---
Liz's phone vibrated in her pocket as she and Kenneth hit in a dumpster.
Jack Donaghy Calling
She answered.
"Lemon! You shouldn't have answered! Now they'll -"
CLICK
BANG
The light came flooding into the dumpster, a bunch of guys in black suits and Kenneth is doing ninja moves what the hell?!
Two minutes, they were all unconscious on the ground, Jarod running up to them with Jack right behind.
"You were a cobra!" Jack slapped hands with Kenneth, a car pulling up beside them.
"Get in!"
Behind the wheel was Conan, his hair taller than it had ever been. He held out his hand. "Elizabeth. Come with us if you want to live."
The dragon shark woman's voice echoed through the alley. The footsteps of what seemed like a million Centre operatives came hurtling towards them, bullets ricocheting off Conan's car and the dumpster they'd previously been hiding in.
"Do I have bin crap in my hair?"
All four men shook their heads.
"If I have to change my name, can it be Elvira Hiltenbottom?"
"Of course, Lemon."
And with that, she nodded satisfactorily and got into the car, thinking of how awesome she'll be as Elvira and not of how weird this entire thing was, because really?
Adventures were adventures were adventures, right?
---
Fin.
---
I don't even know either.