A Day of E
Fandom: Devil Wears Prada
Discaimer: None of these characters belong to me. Their snark does.
Category: Humour / fluff
Pairing: Miranda/Andy, Emily/Serena
Rating: PG-13 (for slightly bad language)
Word Count: ~ 2,000
Summary: A day through the eyes of today's technological (mis)communication.
Author's Note: Some suspension of disbelief need be employed for one part. But reality should never stand in the way of sarcasm.
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From: ASachs@nytimes.com
To: MPriestly@runway.com
Is it really de trop that I emailed everyone I know? I can't believe that it's my first day here. At the New York Times! I've dreamt about it since I was 10 but somehow reality is so much better.
From: MPriestly@runway.com
To: ASachs@nytimes.com
Well, clearly a sign of their utter desperation. What next, employing the homeless? Oh wait, with your fashion sense they may as well be.
PS. I didn't need to read this twice, you bloody cow.
From: ASachs@nytimes dot com
To: MPriestly@runway.com
Hey Em!
Is it too much to ask that Miranda answers my emails herself?
From: MPriestly@runway.com
To: ASachs@nytimes.com
She is in a meeting. And even if she wasn't, she's better things to do. Like bang her head against the wall for 15 minutes instead. Although I distinctly remember experiencing exactly the same effects every time you opened your bloody gob.
From: MPriestly@runway.com
To: ASachs@nytimes.com
CC: MPriestly@Runway.com
Language, Emily. I'll expect a Starbucks on my desk the minute this abominable meeting ends. As you have time to chit chat to Andrea, I shall assume I won't be further swamped by a deluge of your incompetence when I return.
Andrea, I am in a meeting.
Sent from my Blackberry
From: MPriestly@runway.com
To: ASachs@nytimes.com; MPriestly@runway.com
I'm really sorry, Miranda. We need to reschedule the Michael Kors shoot. One of the male models has food poisoning. Bad prawns or something. Though only a total idiot would eat the week they're doing a cover. We can move the shoot to Thursday; reschedule Donatella and James Holt to Friday. It means pushing out dinner with Size 8 to 21:00.
From: ASachs@nytimes.com
To: MPriestly@runway.com
People still EAT? How very 60s of them.
Can't do dinner at 9 as I am stuck doing the graveyard shift.
PS. I see you hit Reply All again, Em. Though I enjoy a bit of Bond-esque mystery as much as any girl, I'm still a 4.
Sent from my Iphone
From: MPriestly@runway.com
To: ASachs@nytimes.com; MPriestly@runway.com
Emily, when I want an essay on why your writing will never feature in Runway, I'll ask for it.
Andrea, I'll expect you there.
Sent from my Blackberry
FishandChips: Bloody bollocks! Copied in that fat cow on an email to Miranda!
RioGirl: Which one?
FishandChips: Angelina Jolie! Who the bloody hell do you think?
RioGirl: Pass on my congratulations to Andy.
FishandChips: TRAITOR
From: ASachs@nytimes.com
To: MPriestly@runway.com
Miranda, no can do. It's my first late shift and I am not going to blow it.
From: MPriestly@runway.com
To: ASachs@nytimes.com
A different first shift comes to mind. I don't recall similar reservations.
Sent from my Blackberry
From: fishandchips@aol.com
To: ASachs@nytimes.com
Miranda just alluded to… I can't even write it.
BRB.
Going to find bleach so I can make myself vomit repeatedly until both the cube of cheese and that filthy image leaves my head.
What does she see in her? I'm going to research midlife crisis.
From: ASachs@nytimes.com
To: MPriestly@runway.com
Em, I'm pretty sure you meant to send this to Serena.
FishandChips: Fuckety Fuck!
RioGirl: |Again? *sigh* You can always stay at home and make those frog things I like.
FishandChips: Toad in the Hole?
RioGirl: That name still makes no sense.
FishandChips: Don't start.
From: ECharlton@runway.com
To: ASachs@nytimes.com
I assumed that having left Runway you'd be up a size. At least. I've seen the Dunkin Donuts box delivered to your office. And let's be honest, your hips and sugar are like magnets.
From: ASachs@nytimes.com
To: ECharlton@runway.com
Ever heard of repelling magnets?
From: ECharlton@runway.com
To: ASachs@nytimes.com
Are they paying you to Google?
From: MPriestly@runway.com
To: ASachs@nytimes.com
What exactly am I expected to infer from this lack of response?
Sent from my Blackberry
From: ASachs@nytimes.com
To: MPriestly@runway.com
You said you were in a meeting!
Sent from my iPhone
From: MPriestly@runway.com
To: ASachs@nytimes.com
Yet *I* still find time to type an email. I see your already mediocre multi tasking skills have inexcusably regressed since you've left my tutelage.
Sent from my Blackberry
From: ASachs@nytimes.com
To: MPriestly@runway.com
Really? That's not exactly what you said last night. ;-)
Sent from my iPhone
From: MPriestly@runway.com
To: ASachs@nytimes.com
What is that eyesore?
Sent from my Blackberry
From: ASachs@nytimes.com
To: MPriestly@runway.com
You've NEVER been sent a wink before?
Sent from my iPhone
From: MPriestly@runway.com
To: ASachs@nytimes.com
Did we enter a temporal rift? That is the only answer to that inane question. I am Miranda Priestly. One doesn't wink at me unless they'd like to live out their remaining years on a research station in the North Pole.
Sent from my Blackberry
From: ASachs@nytimes.com
To: MPriestly@runway.com
;-) :-) @} -'- ,--
Sent from my iPhone
From: MPriestly@runway.com
To: ASachs@nytimes.com
My God, that is utterly deplorable. What next -- the Inaugural Address delivered in that entirely incomprehensible gibberish? I hope the girls aren't picking up these habits from you. The education system has already gone downhill enough.
Sent from my Blackberry
From: ASachs@nytimes.com
To: MPriestly@runway.com
Actually, I think someone's a little over the hil
Mail Deamon Failure: Sent message cannot be recalled.
PuppyEyes: Oh my God! I just sent an age joke to Miranda!
DougMuffin: Nice knowing you.
SohoArtist: Girlfriend, she must've grown a sense of humor… since she's dating you. *badoom boosh*
PuppyEyes: Miranda?
DougMuffin: Miranda?
PuppyEyes: Jinx. You owe me a coke.
DougMuffin: After that howler you made, I'll even throw in vodka free of charge.
SohoArtist: Usual place tonight?
PuppyEyes: If I am still alive. If not, tell my parents I love them. Oh and rescue the geranium.
SohoArtist: You bought a plant?
PuppyEyes: Three days ago.
DougMuffin: Okay, scratching plant rescue from list.
From: MPriestly@runway.com
To: ASachs@nytimes.com
If you think you can buy my forgiveness with a stock standard bouquet of flowers
From: MPriestly@runway.com
To: ASachs@nytimes.com
Your apology borders on sufficient, if not efficient... as I am now behind on the layout and consequently will be forced to miss a meeting with Irv. The latter is the only reason that I'll entertain your company this evening.
From: Andy
To: Miranda
You know I have a key, right?
Love you too.
*kiss*
Sent via text message
From: Miranda
To: Andrea
Don't push your luck.
Sent via text message
FishandChips: I just found underwear…
RioGirl: So?
FishandChips: In Miranda's office…
RioGirl: Why were you in Miranda's office?
FishandChips: Trust you to focus on the least important point.
RioGirl: What is the point? They are probably from the La Perla spread.
FishandChips: They're a size 4.
RioGirl: Well, at least she's figured out the key to keeping Miranda happy.
FishandChips: Only one question. Does hydrochloric acid come in bulk?