I've decided that multitasking is the sign of pure genius. How many projects does this make now? Five? Oh, dear...Title:
Fast Times at NAMBLA High: Part OneAuthor:
The Daily Show... with a smattering of guest appearances. Pairing:
Including but not limited to:
Jon/Stephen, Stephen/Paul, Stephen/Craig Kilborn, Jon/Anderson Cooper, Paul/Amy, Rob/Frustration, Ed/Confusion, (Rob/Frustration)/(Ed/Confusion), Mo Rocca/Lewis Black, Sam/Jason, Demetri Martin/Nathan Corddry, Bob Novak/Hair nets, Aasif Mandvi/Tucker Carlson, Stone Phillips/Barbara Walters, Dan Bakkedahl/Rob Riggle, Dane Cook/His ego, Dave Gorman/John Oliver, Jerry Seinfeld/Steve Carell, Bill O’Reilly/Hatred, Keith Olbermann/Everyone, John Hodgeman/Bill Gates, Tucker/Craig, Aasif/Anderson, John Hodgeman/Sarah Vowell, Will Ferrell/MOP?, Keith/Dennis Leary, George Clooney/CharmRating:
PG-13 for some languageWarning:
Almost as cracked out as possible? This is what happens when my insomnia somehow gets even worse. Also, het pairings, but they're few and far between and somewhat scarring. This is about as AU as you can get without jettisoning these people into space. Other warnings: drug use, underage drinking, and Will Ferrell being creepy.A/N:
Alright, this came from me wanting to see Jon and Stephen in high school together. The rest sort of... snowballed from there into this very odd alternate universe where somehow Stone Phillips and Barbara Walters are teachers who end up having sex. Gross? Yes. Genius? Hell yes
. I basically stole ideas from all over the place, so yeah. I'm totally cool with doing that, because I am one giant badass. But, you know, if you want me to credit you or anything for the shit I blatantly stole I totally will...Length:
Feedback helps my crack addiction. Give generously.Summary:
This is what I wrote as a summary at 3 in the AM when I was supposed to be writing a paper but instead conceived of this horrifying brainchild:The OC meets TDS meets High School Musical meets TCR meets Queer As Folk times a billion meets my life meets Strangers with Candy meets Footloose meets Are You There God, It’s Me Margaret meets CNN meets CRACK.
Yeah. Digest that for a minute.FAST TIMES AT NAMBLA HIGH
Jon was beginning to believe this entire idea was a giant pile of steaming, stinking, unattractive dog crap.
He had already had his name mispronounced by two teachers (seriously, had these people never encountered a Jew before? It wasn’t like speaking fucking Bantu or anything), he had received about nine comments about his nose, sixteen people had tried to relate to him by making wildly inappropriate jokes about Judaism, someone had knocked his backpack right out of his hands, and he was fairly sure the dumbass behind him had tried light his hair on fire
. After feeling the heat tickling the back of his neck, Jon had turned around violently to find the jerkwad grinning at him evilly while shoving a shitty lighter into his pocket.
Jon had come to the conclusion at that moment that the school was obviously full of Nazis and he would do well to keep his head low and just suffer through the next two years in studied silence. Hell, his people had done so for thousands of years! Or… relative silence. Everyone was entitled to a reasonable amount of bitching.
Suffice to say, he planned on avoiding his locker like the plague after seeing some of the jocks eying it demonically when he had drawn too near. Anti-Semites, the lot of them. He’d be damned if he was going to spend half his time at this new School from Hell stuffed in his tiny and sorry excuse for a locker.
It wasn't until third period that a small yet brilliant ray of hope seemed to descend upon his decidedly shitty day.
“Hello everyone,” said the man in a dry voice as he briskly entered the room. “My name is Mr. Seinfeld and I’ll be the lucky guy to teach you all English this semester.”
Jon had straightened slightly. Seinfeld?
Could it be that there was another Jew in his midst? Perish the thought for it was too good to be true!
Mr. Seinfeld wrote his name on the board, underlining his last name twice. Jon felt an odd twinge of pride at such a gesture.
“This semester we’ll be covering classics, a lot of which most of you people have never heard of.” Oh, goody, this guy also had a loathing for the general public. Jon felt his heart soar. “I hope all this won’t be too painful and that you all will at least try to think outside of your comfortable little boxes and actually grace me with some of the intelligence that you apparently have according to our overall test scores… but we all know that standardized testing is about as useful as FDR’s legs.”
Jon’s mouth hung open in shock. This was too good to be true.
“Anyway, let’s begin. Adison?”
As the dull process of roll began, Jon glanced around the room. As he did so, he found a dark haired boy wearing spectacles perched on his nose looking at him. The thing that caught Jon though was that it wasn’t the kind of look he had been getting all day; those had been ones of curiosity bordering on horrified fascination and it made Jon feel a rather lot like a snake in a glass case… something to be studied and feared. This look though was oddly kind. The curiosity was there but with none of the morbidity of the others.
The look said simply: “I get you.”
Now if Jon could only know what was to be gotten exactly.
“Colbert?” Mr. Seinfeld was asking.
The boy in glasses raised his hand hesitantly. “Here.”
Mr. Seinfeld offered a small smile. “Good to have you in my class again, Stephen.”
The boy merely offered a small smile before shooting another cursory glance at Jon and going back to scribbling in his notebook.
The smirking boy next to Stephen raised his hand. “Yeah.”
Mr. Seinfeld gave him a bit of a sour look before moving on. “Duncan?”
As he continued, the Dinello kid glanced at Jon before whispering something to Stephen. Stephen looked up then, his black eyes smiling, before turning and shaking his head a bit at his friend. Shrugging, the curly-headed boy went back to his notebook, drawing thick black lines across it.
Suddenly, Jon heard his name. “Leibowitz?” Mr. Seinfeld suddenly smiled outright as Jon raised a tentative hand.
Still smiling, Seinfeld glanced at the papers in his hand. “It says you’re new here, Jon?”
“Uh… yeah. Yes.” Jon folded and unfolded his hands on the desk, fidgeting as he grew more aware of the eyes on him.
“How’s everything been so far?”Fucking hellish. Thanks for asking. I officially want to stab out my eyes with a rusty fork.
“Fine. Just… just fine.”
“Everyone treat you well?”
His future best Jew friend was not doing too well in Jon’s eyes at the moment. Stop it with the fucking inquisition!
Seinfeld apparently decided that the line of questioning had reached its apex and with a slight nod to Jon mercifully moved on.
Jon sighed and settled back into his chair, slouching as much as possible and trying to seem generally inconspicuous. The only other person he noted during role was a tiny girl sitting next to the pair of boys he’d already interacted with. She looked sprightly and grinned wide when Mr. Seinfeld had called her name. She had then looked at Jon and flashed a bright smile his way that had actually forced him to smile back, however small it was.Sedaris. Good egg
, Jon noted in his brain. Little hyper, but has potential. Colbert?
He pursed his lips as he regarded the taller boy. Looks promising but that Dinello guy looks like he could be a dick.
He found himself fighting another smile as Stephen raised a surprising eloquent eyebrow at Dinello in incredulity at something the good-looking boy had just said.
Soon, Seinfeld was speaking again. “Alright, kiddos, we’re going to be starting out this semester with one of my personal favorites, The Sun Also Rises
by Ernest Hemmingway.” Suddenly a sigh escaped the teacher as a hand shot up in the front row. “Yes, Mr. Carlson?” Seinfeld asked wearily.
Jon’s eyebrows shot into the fringe of his hair as he regarded the kid preparing to speak. He had on a fucking tie. What, did his mother dress him? What a fucking goober.
“Why are we reading Hemmingway? He was a misogynist suicidal drunkard who dithered away half his life getting smashed on absinth. And the book basically sucks and is completely comprised of simple sentences.”
The look of loathing burning in Seinfeld’s eyes had to be enough to take down a full-grown cougar. “I suppose you’re entitled to your opinion, Mr. Carlson
,” he finally grated out. “But it’s on the syllabus. I’m sure you can, and will, take it to the board if you want to address it further.”
Much to Jon’s surprise, he suddenly found his own hand in the air. He figured it was the blind hatred coursing through his veins at this kid that was making him act insane.Sorry, lighter-boy. Looks like you’ve been replaced as my arch nemesis.
Seinfeld looked a bit surprised. “Yes Mr. Leibowitz?”
“Well…” Jon began uncertainly. “I’m just wondering what Hemmingway’s personal life has to do with anything. It’s his writing we’re concerned with so why get into the anal pedantic argument about whether or not the guy was a good person? Sure, he was an alcoholic… but so was Winston Churchill. You know who wasn’t an alcoholic? Adolf Hitler. It’s seems that alcoholism is the way to go, if you ask me.” He suddenly stopped himself, realizing he’s been rambling. The class sat in stunned silence, gaping at the new kid. Stephen was looking at him in something near awe combined with amusement.
“Also, his writing isn’t simplistic, it’s to the point and completely original. I just don’t see where you get off saying that it’s not worth looking at.” Finally, Jon sank farther into his slouching position and inwardly sighed as he realized that all hopes of spending his time in studied, suffering silence were now lost forever.
Carlson was sputtering something at him when Mr. Seinfeld cleared his throat. “Well, I… thank you, Jon for that… insight.” He smiled dryly. “Anything else to add?”
Jon tried to meet his eyes as he shook his head weakly. “Uh… no.”
“Alright then. Let’s move on…” As Seinfeld continued his lecture, Jon glanced at Stephen again who was smiling at him mischievously. Offering a generous wink, Stephen finally turned his stare back to the teacher and started studiously taking notes.
Jon also noted that Dinello was regarding him gravely in a way that said, “I’m not sure what I think of you yet,” and Amy was merely smiling proudly.
Overall, Seinfeld was an entertaining lecturer and by the end of the class he had successfully stripped down at least 4 students of any semblance of self-confidence they may have once had. In spite of the former interrogation Jon had had to suffer at the hands of the man, he was pretty sure he worshipped what appeared to be the only other Jew in the building.
“Wow, Leibowitz,” came the hissing snarl from behind him after he had exited the classroom. “Can your nose be any farther up Seinfeld’s ass? It was like watching a Jewish mating ritual.”
Jon nonchalantly zipped up his bag and regarded Carlson coolly. “I guess any mating ritual is a bit of a shocker for you. And I’ll let you know when I get my head out of Seinfeld’s ass as soon as you remove that stick form your’s. Seriously dude, who dresses you, Mr. Rogers? Grow the fuck up.” With that, Jon passed into the throng. Not his best, but what can ya do? Carlson had caught him off guard.
As he maneuvered his way through the crowd, he missed the dark eyes following him behind a pair of glasses.~~~~~~~~~
“Alright,” Paul stated, looking dead serious as he chewed his peanut butter sandwich. “New kid. Thoughts.”
“I like him!” Amy piped, deliberately smashing up the crackers she had gotten with her soup that were still in the package. “He seems nice. And funny. He’s kind of cute, really… in a short way.”
Stephen snorted. “Ah, the pot calling the kettle black, as they say.” Amy mock punched him before going back to the task at hand. “Amy,” he asked patiently. “What on earth
are you doing?”
“See, you smash them up until it’s a powder…” she explained as if it were the most normal thing in the world. “It’s fun! You smash one bit and then it becomes two bits and you just keep going. Sometimes though the bits get sharp and poke holes in the plastic and it spills out,” she finished sadly.
Stephen only stared at her for a moment before grabbing the other packet and mimicking Amy’s actions. As a small smile flitted across his face, he noticed Paul frowning at him.
“What?” Stephen asked innocently. “She’s right; it’s fun!”
The curly-headed boy sighed dramatically. “Ignoring for now the fact that both of you are obviously insane,” he paused as Amy and Stephen shared a commiserating look, “let me just point out that you didn’t answer my question. What do you think of the new kid?”
Stephen continued to pulverize the poor, unsuspecting crackers and tried to shrug nonchalantly. “Hey man, I’m a fan of anyone who can take down Tucker like that. He seems to be able to spot a primo dick right away.” He glanced up at his friend, smiling slightly. “Speaking of which, you better watch out.”
Paul stuck out his tongue and crossed his eyes. “Oh, ha ha.
Please, never again compare me with that chickenshit Carlson. Seriously man, are you trying to completely destroy my self-image?”
Stephen snorted. “Oh right, like that would even be possible. That’s like trying to destroy Russia by throwing a hand grenade at it from Poland.” Ignoring Paul’s scowl he continued. “Anyway, I think he seems cool. It must be hard, being new here.”
“I wouldn’t mind making it easy on him!” Amy chirped, grinning and wagging her eyebrows in a ridiculously lewd manner. “If you know what I mean!”
Stephen chuckled while Paul somehow managed to scowl even more deeply and sank low on his stool, crossing his arms across his chest. He looked like a petulant little girl with one of his curls falling into his face. “Hey!” he squeaked angrily. “He’s not that
Stephen fought down a look of amusement at the tone of obvious jealousy in Paul’s voice… and the way his voice had cracked—for surely laughing at the boy in that moment would result in even more scowling and sulking. The way Paul could manage to make his voice go into that prepubescent squeal was beyond Stephen and never failed to entertain him. In fact, it was that crack in his voice that had first made Stephen finally give Paul a chance.
When they initially met, Stephen had surmised that Paul was a prick to be avoided at all costs. In spite of being in the same school system their entire lives, they had somehow avoided similar social circles until high school. It was then that he had met Amy who seemed hell-bent on becoming best friends with Stephen. She had been kind and sincere and utterly weird and Stephen had liked her immediately. Paul however… Stephen had deduced that the guy was a totally self-absorbed asshole who really didn’t deserve any friendship, let alone his. He was weirdly quiet sometimes and didn’t appear to appreciate Stephen’s obsessions with Dungeons and Dragons or Lord of the Rings (“Oh, we’ll have to break you of that
,” he had said matter-of-factly once he had seen the paraphernalia cluttering Stephen’s room) and seemed smug to the point of contempt.
But then Stephen heard that squeak in his voice and finally saw him smile broadly at something Stephen had said and he felt his dislike melt away. Amy was a big help as well, seeing as she was almost as hell-bent on making Stephen and Paul best friends as she was about her relationship with Stephen. Soon, Stephen found himself hanging out with Paul even without Amy and his laughter was something Stephen earned with fierce pride.
As he looked on Paul affectionately, the other boy narrowed his eyes and continued to look sour. “What?”
Stephen merely smiled to himself and began eating his apple. “Nothing. Just marveling at how much like a five-year-old girl you can make yourself look.”
“I do not look like a girl,” he stated emphatically, though he sort of ruined the gravity of the statement by tucking his hair behind his ear. As Stephen began to giggle at this, Paul huffed indignantly and jerked his hand away from his head. “Hey, shut up! That means nothing!” There was that squeak again and it sent Stephen further into giggles.
Amy was just looking at the two of them, smiling enigmatically. “My handiwork,” she murmured, sighing happily. “You do
realize that I’m pretty much solely responsible for this beautiful relationship, right? Two young boys… now become men. In each others’ arms.” She grinned outright and clasped her hands together, fluttering her eyes. “Oh, me.”
Paul giggled then. “Yeah, yeah, good for you. You’ve awakened the passions within.” He said it all flatly but the smile stayed on his face.
“Oh yes, Amy, without you life would be for naught for dark days would be all I see,” Stephen deadpanned. “High school would have been merely another drudging by of years where all I would experience would be despair and heartache.”
Though it was said in jest, there’s some truth behind the words. Prior to meeting these two, Stephen had been relatively friendless. It wasn’t exactly by any fault of his own, really… people just generally weren’t too keen on being friends with the boy whose family had been torn apart as violently as Stephen’s. Funny thing was, Stephen couldn’t even resent it. He understood it… hell, if he was outside the situation, he would avoid it like the plague. So he chose to just accept the way things were and dive into a world of dragons and hobbits and other myths that weren’t likely to get scared off by the intense loss in his life.
That made Amy and Paul’s friendship with him even more miraculous in a way. Once they found out about everything, they hadn’t shied away… in fact, Amy seemed even more inspired to be an intrinsic part of Stephen’s life. Paul had followed suit, though less obviously. Both had been bizarrely kind in how they had dealt with the situation; Amy aiding him in venting some of the pain and Paul helping him forget it.
Amy just grinned at him. “You know you love me.”
A genuine smile flitted across his face as he placed a long-fingered hand delicately upon his corduroy-clad chest. “Heart and soul.”
They held the eye contact for a moment until Paul started muttering something about them “getting a goddamned room” and then the bell was ringing.
“Where you off to?” Stephen asked as they gathered up their things and headed out the door.
Glancing at his schedule, Paul groaned. “Gym with Riggle,” he pronounced sadly. “Oh God, he’s going to make me climb that fucking rope again, I know it.”
Amy tittered beside him. “Oh, come on, it’s not that bad.”
, Amy,” Paul said ardently. “It burns in places where nothing should ever, EVER burn.”
“Well, I have Clooney for Spanish,” she said, dreamy smile on her face.
A silence descended upon them. “Amy…” Stephen started carefully. “Didn’t you, like… get a D last semester? I thought you said that Spanish was a ‘devil language spoken only by’… uh…”
“’Whores and pirates,’ I believe was the phrase,” Paul supplied for him.
Amy sighed feebly. “I can’t help myself! He’s so… charming
Paul rolled his eyes. “Well, that’s a good reason for shooting your GPA to shit.”
“Hey! His charm is a power. It’s futile to resist it.”
Stephen’s face broke into a grin. Paul shot him a deadly look. “Say one thing about the Borg we’re done
The taller boy raised his hands in defense and laughed. “Whatever are you talking about? The Borg? What?”
Paul rolled his eyes again. “Oh, right, of course you have no
idea. Where are you headed?”
“Uh… art. With Bakkedahl.” They all shared a look.
“Do you think you’ll be able to keep from correcting him this semester?” Amy quipped as she adjusted her backpack strap.
“Fingers crossed!” Stephen exclaimed, demonstrating. “Well, I’ll see you guys after school?”
“Yeah man, wanna play Halo at my house?” In spite of being very open in his declarations of hate for all things nerdy, Paul was quite proficient at videogames.
Amy groaned. “In that case, I’m going to just go home.”
“Boo,” Paul pouted. “You’re no fun.”
“Hey, I’d just prefer baking to trying to shoot some guys with plasma rifles or whatever-the-hell that game is about.” She raised her hands as the two boys attempted to give her the history, back story, and overall intimate details of the game. “NO. You know how I feel about this. The more ignorant I am of it, the better.”
“Shit,” Paul muttered, glancing at his watch. “We have… a minute.”
With Stephen hurrying off in one direction and the other two heading in the other, they throw hurried goodbyes at each other and Stephen catches a snippet of their conversation as the pair disappears into the crowd.
“Do you really think Jon’s attractive?” Paul was asking quietly in that puppy-dog voice of his.
Stephen smiled lightly as he saw Amy smack him across the back of the head. “Don’t be an idiot,” she admonished, looking at him affectionately.
Paul’s thankful smile was the last Stephen saw of them as they vanished from sight. He reached the door of his class and grinned to himself.
He really did have the best friends ever.TO BE CONTINUED?!?!...yes.Tune in next time for a special appearance by Rob Corddry and Ed Helms as the icredible amazing duo! And we'll all learn how that hazy-focus lense of Barbara Walters actually works.Disclaimer: Any similarity between the fictional version of the person portrayed here and the actual persons is purely coincidental. This is a work of fiction. This is not an attempt to defame the character of said person on the basis of libel, as the work is FICTIONAL (and NOT an intently false statement created with the express purpose of misleading others about the actual character of said person).
Any mention of 'The Daily Show', 'The Colbert Report', 'Viacom', any associated entites, or any copyrighted material pertaining therein is reasonably protected by the Fair Use Rule of the United States Copyright Act of 1976 and is not intended to infringe upon any copyrighted material.