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Mistah Kurtz, He Dead (Part 2 of 5)

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Jul. 24th, 2008 | 03:43 am
posted by: msmcknittington in loathlylady

Title: Mistah Kurtz, He Dead (Part 2 of 5)
Author: msmcknittington
Word Count: ~4500
Pairing/Character: Jack/Liz; also appearing: Kenneth, Devon, Pete and the whole crew.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: “What are you doing here? I dumped all my change in the box last night.” A fic in four parts.
Spoilers/Season/Episode etc: Through 2.10, just to be safe, but nothing significant after “Greenzo” (2.5).

Additional Notes: My work on parts 3 and 4 have informed me that this will actually be in five parts, because I am long-winded. Also, apparently yesterday was Wednesday and not Tuesday.

Part 1


Mistah Kurtz, He Dead (Part 2 of 5)


Every situation had its advantages, Liz told herself the next morning as she got ready to take a shower. For example, she now had new insight into the workings of Tracy Jordan’s mind. She had been there; she had passed through the looking glass and seen Alice -- heck, she had spoken to Alice. She made a face in the mirror. Now probably wasn’t the time for references to famous songs about drugs. Kenneth wasn’t the sort of person who supplied his guests with hallucinogens. Jack also bore very little resemblance to a blonde-haired little girl, both in life and in death, so it most likely didn’t apply either way. He’d probably followed a bunny down a hole a time or two, though, so that part worked.

Dropping her robe on the toilet seat lid, she stepped into the shower and turned on the water. As the spray hit her face, she tried to rationalize what had happened at Kenneth’s party. Obviously she was having trouble accepting that Jack Donaghy had kicked off this mortal coil about 48 hours ago. There was no coming back from death; as an agnostic, she was fairly certain of this. But her monkey brain wanted him to be alive, and that wishful thinking had created the hallucination she saw last night. Maybe if she repeated the truth to herself, daily affirmation style, something would click in her head and things would go back to a version of normal.

Squeezing too much shampoo in her hand, she said to herself, “Jack Donaghy is dead.” Sudsing up her hair, she said, “Jack Donaghy is dead.” Turning around to rinse the shampoo out of her hair, she said, “Jack Donaghy is -- Jesus Christ!”

Jack Donaghy was standing in her shower.

Liz grabbed her shower curtain and tried to wrap it around herself, as if transparent plastic with six rubber ducks on it would stop him from seeing anything.

“What are you doing here? I dumped all my change in the box last night.”

“I’m flattered that you think I resemble our Lord and Savior, but I assure you that Christ never wears a closed-toe shoe. Business dress isn’t part of his idiom.” He gestured toward her. “Are you aware that you have an irregularly shaped mole on your back? Have you had it looked at by a doctor?

“It’s a birthmark,” she said. She had never before realized that speaking through your teeth wasn’t just a figure of speech. “Please get out of my --” She stopped talking and screwed her eyes shut.

“What’s wrong? Is it your mole?”

“No, I’ve got soap in my eyes. I didn’t get all the shampoo out of my hair because some dead guy showed up in my shower.”

“You have my sincerest apologies. I’d hand you a towel, but I’m indisposed at the moment.”

“Just get out. Wait in the living room. Or the kitchen. Just get out of here.” Speaking in such short sentences made her feel like a bad person, so she added, “Please. Wait there until I’m done in here.”

“Do you know how long you’ll be? We have plans to put in motion.”

“Get out!”

He deserved that one.

***


“You know, Lemon, beneath your usual Goodwill ensembles, you actually have a lovely body. You really ought to display it more prominently.”

“Yeah, well, the last time I did that, your ex-wife pulled my top down.” She threw the butter knife she was using in the sink for emphasis.

“Oh, I wasn’t just speaking of your breasts. I was already aware of their configuration. The rest of you fits together quite nicely.” He frowned. “Except that mole. That hint of skin cancer detracts somewhat from the whole.”

“I told you. It’s not a mole; it’s a birthmark. I’ve had it since I was a baby. And can we stop talking about my body like I’m not in the room?” She took an enormous bite of her peanut butter toast and only chewed it half as much as it needed before speaking. “What are you doing here? I thought you were a hallucination last night, but it’s been more than eight hours and I’m still seeing you. If there was ergot in the crackers or whatever, it should be out of my system by now.”

“No, there are some types of South American mold that can stay with you for a good 36 to 48 hours.” He paused, as if remembering what mold could do to a man. “I believe I told you at Kenneth’s party what my purpose in the mortal realm currently is, but if you insist on me telling you again,” he began, but she cut him off.

“No, I remember.” Thinking of what she’d go through at work today from the writers, she closed her eyes and leaned her head against her fist. “God, do I remember.”

“You’ve got peanut butter in your hair. And you really must stop calling me Christ and God. My connections inform me They aren’t fans of such things. Blasphemy in general, really.”

“Oh, narf.” She grabbed a paper towel and used the side of the toaster as a mirror to clean up. “So what’s this plan of yours that was so important you had to show up in my shower?”

Jack put his hands behind his back and started pacing back and forth in her kitchen, which was more than a little strange, since it was a tiny kitchen and his shoulder kept going right through the refrigerator as he passed it. Just, swoosh! Right through the door handle and her collection of erotic European postcards from Jenna, who had managed to find a dirty postcard of St. Paul’s Cathedral, of all places. It did look a little like a boob, but Jack didn’t notice it because, well, he could walk through things and presumably had more important things on his mind than St. Paul’s superficial resemblance to a breast.

“As you know, I usually approach situations like these by first identifying the problem, then isolating it, and finally destroying it.”

“I think most people solve problems, not destroy them.”

“No, I find destruction is more apt when it comes to the kind of problems I’m faced with. ‘Solve’ isn’t a strong enough verb for the sorts of things that bring down multinational corporations.” He cleared his throat. “As I was saying, I have made progress in my method. I’ve identified the problem and I’m on my way to isolating it. Destruction is not far away.”

“So what is it?” She took another bite of her toast.

“The problem is that we don’t know what I must do to redeem myself enough to return to the mortal plain.”

She nearly choked. It was a good thing it was only nearly, too, since Jack couldn’t do much in way of a Heimlich maneuver at the moment.

“So you peeped on me in the shower for nothing? You haven’t figured out anything?”

“On the contrary, I’ve identified the problem. Now I must go about isolating it, for which I will need your assistance.”

The cat clock in her living room started meowing. Nine times.

“I’m going to be late for work,” she said, stepping on the pedal for her garbage can and throwing away what was left of her peanut butter toast.

“That’s never been a concern before,” he said, bemusedly.

“Yeah, well, I’m turning over a new leaf, buddy. I must have done something really weird in a past life to deserve this situation, so from here on out, I’m going to be the best head writer TGS has ever had. And no pointing out that I’m the only head writer TGS has had, because that’s not going to get you any help. At all. So you can just stop while you’re ahead.”

“Fair enough. Are you going to place any more rules on this collaboration?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.” She started gathering up the papers spread out on her kitchen table and shoving them in her tote bag. “No more talking to me around other people. It makes me look like a drunk hobo, and while Lutz might like that, I’m not Lutz. You made me feel like I was caught in Tracy’s head last night, and I didn’t really enjoy it.”

“Yes, I can see how that could be disconcerting. I apologize for that. Anything else?”

“No more walking in on me when I’m naked. I need my space, Jack, and part of that is leaving me alone when I’m not wearing pants.”

“What about if you’re not wearing a shirt?”

She gave him a dirty look.

“I can’t really believe you asked that question, but not then either.”

“I’m just making sure our understanding of these rules is mutual. If you’re comfortable speaking to me while shirtless, then I want to be able to utilize those times, as we’re working on a deadline. You’d be amazed at the kind of business that can be accomplished in nude and semi-nude states.”

“Well, I’m not comfortable with that, so no shirtless conferences. I think maybe you should keep your clothes on, too.” She folded the last piece of paper in half and shoved it in her tote bag. “Do you want to make any rules?”

“No, I think what we’ve established here is adequate.” He paused. “Are you free for lunch?”

“Yes, lunch would be a good time to talk to me. Because I will be wearing all my clothes and will be by myself.”

“Excellent.” He clapped his hands together. “Have a good day, Lemon.”

She felt kind of weird leaving with him there in her apartment, but it wasn’t like she could keep him out, as neither doors nor shower curtains had any effect whatsoever. So she slipped her tote bag on her shoulder and said, “All right, Jack. I’ll see you at lunch.”

***


Despite the Jack attack in her shower, she was on time for work. Which meant she, Pete, and Cerie were the only ones in the office and that wasn’t going to change for a good two hours. So she did what she usually did when there was nobody else there: She got some work done.

She was just putting the finishing touches on Jenna’s really flattering but totally impartial Wikipedia article, which mostly involved editing out the list of celebrities she’d slept with and adding a couple sentences about her time as a Mouseketeer, when Cerie rapped her fingers on the door of her office.

“Hey, Cerie. What’s up?”

“Jonathan just called and said you’re supposed to go up to Mr. Dona -- the big office in fifteen minutes. The new head guy is here and he wants to meet with you.”

“Yeah? That was quick.” She clicked the submit button in her browser, and watched the Wikipedia page load up again. “Did he say who the new guy is?”

“Nope. He didn’t sound happy about it, but I guess that’s understandable, considering what happened this week.”

What happened this week. Ha. If Jonathan had to live through this Christmas Carol weirdness, he’d run away so fast his designer knock-off shoes would smoke. So it was probably best if she pretended that everything was normal and didn’t laugh derisively.

“He’s probably going to be touchy for a while. Just be nice to him.” Liz closed the browser window and grabbed her toothbrush out of her middle desk drawer. When she looked up, Cerie was still standing in the doorway.

“Do you need something else, Cerie?”

She hesitated and tugged down her skirt (way too short, Liz noted; it was probably time to talk to her again about office-appropriate clothing) before speaking.

“You’re looking a lot better this morning, Ms. Lemon. I mean in comparison to yesterday.”

“Really? Did I look like a yeti yesterday or something?”

“No,” Cerie said, a look in her eyes that said she wasn’t quite sure what a yeti was, but she was pretty certain it wasn’t a good thing. “It’s just that usually your eyes are kind of sunken in, and yesterday they were all puffy, like you’d been crying or just had some work done. Or like you’d had a lot to drink the night before. Do you drink a lot? I mean, you don’t have a boyfriend so you have to fill your time with something.”

“Well, sometimes I feel like it, but I usually hold off,” Liz said. “I’ve had bad experiences in the past with that, so I find a rubber band and snap it against my wrist until the urge passes.”

“Oh, that’s how my mom quit smoking the third time. Or was it the fifth? Anyway, your hair’s really cute today. Did you get highlights?” Cerie leaned forward. “Ew. No, I think you’ve got peanut butter in your bangs.”

“Ah, nerts! I thought I got all of it out in the toaster. Why didn’t he say anything before I left?” She pulled a mirror out of her desk. “It’s all dried up and stuff. This wouldn’t happen if I didn’t eat that stupid natural junk.” She scraped at the peanut butter with her fingernails. It came off in crumbs.

“Do you need any help, Ms. Lemon?” Cerie was looking at her with the concerned look most people reserved for someone who had just had minor medical emergency. Having peanut butter in her hair might have been one for Cerie.

“No, I’ve got it. Thanks, Cerie. You can go.”

Cerie headed back to her copy of Handbag Designers Weekly and Liz finished scraping the peanut butter out of her hair, wondering if she should start wearing a shower cap when she ate.

***


“Morning, Mr. Hornberger,” Cerie said to Pete as he passed her desk on the way back from the doughnut tray.

“Good morning, Cerie. What’re you reading there?” Pete turned up the corner of her newspaper so he could see the masthead. “Ah, Handbag Designers Weekly. There’s a good article on the use of python skin as a trim in this week’s issue.”

“Mr. Hornberger, I didn’t know you read HDW.

“Well, I do love publications that are commonly known by acronyms. And I’ll need a hobby when I retire, so I figure I should stay abreast of the trends now.” He took a bite out of his doughnut.

Cerie put her paper on the desk and folded her hands on top of it.

“Can I ask you a question, Mr. Hornberger? Something happened this morning and I think you might know about it.”

“Is this about the guy who took over Donaghy’s job? Because I have no idea who Geiss moved in there.”

“No, it’s not that,” she said. “Is Ms. Lemon seeing someone? She had peanut butter in her hair, and she said something about some guy not saying something before she left her apartment.”

Pete stopped chewing.

“Come again?” he said.

“She said, ‘Why didn’t he say anything before I left?’ I know she didn’t stop anywhere on the way in because she brought her coffee mug from home, and peanut butter means she made herself breakfast.”

“Hmm, that’s weird.” Pete took a bite of his doughnut. “I’ll look into it, Cerie, and get back to you.”

***


Jack’s office was one big tangle of wires and camera equipment, which was pretty strange in a building that had more than one television studio and plenty of people whose job it was to run cable. It really looked like a news van had exploded. She expected to see a guy in a tattered navy blazer emerge from the rubble, but she had to settle for Jonathan.

“Oh, it’s you,” he said, appearing from behind a stack of wire spools.

“It’s good to see you, too, Jonathan.” She gestured toward the electrical equipment. “Did you knock over a Radio Shack or something? I thought the new programming director wanted to meet with me.”

“He does, but he’s not actually in the state, so we’re trying something new, because he doesn’t believe in phone conferences.” He began winding a cable around his arm.

“You’re doing that wrong,” Liz pointed out.

Jonathan dropped the cable and threw his hands up.

“Just sit in that chair and try to look like a professional and not the kind of woman who eats her own weight in hot dogs every month.”

“Have you been following me?”

“What? No!” But he turned his head away before answering. Creepy. She was going to have to install a new deadbolt on her apartment door.

The phone rang and Jonathan left as Liz sat down in the armchair, which was a new addition to the office. Jack went in for leather and metal accents on his office furniture, but this chair was kind of garish. Someone was translating the idea of the peacock mascot a little too literally, because furniture wasn’t supposed to be that color of teal. Or purple or gold. Especially all at once.

Jonathan appeared again in the office and flicked what appeared to be a master switch. Stage lights came on and flooded the office with light that was much brighter than the situation called for. Liz put her arms up to shield her eyes.

“You have five seconds,” Jonathan said. The flatscreen TV over the fireplace mantle popped on with a crackle.

“What? Jonathan, what kind of warning is that?”

He just shrugged as he backed out of the office, closing the doors behind him.

“Elizabeth Lemon,” boomed a deep voice from speakers flanking the fireplace.

She lowered her arms and squinted at the TV. The guy on the screen had his hands tented in front of his face like a Bond villain. Blond hair, blue eyes, preternaturally white teeth, rat-like face, Los Angeles visible in the window behind him. It could only be one person.

She wanted to say something brilliant and maybe just a little cutting, but all that came out were two words.

“You man.”

“Yes, I am a fine figure of a man,” Devon Banks replied. “Thank you for noticing.” He gestured toward her in the TV screen and his voice became, if possible, more mocking. “I see you’ve cleaned up. Are those Ferragamos you’re wearing?”

“No,” she said, tossing her head. “They’re Chuck Taylors. Chuck Taylor All-Stars.”

He laughed at her.

“You are a feisty one. I’d appreciate it if you were my type.”

“What type is that? Comfortable with my sexuality?” Liz shot back.

“Oh, Lemon, don’t kid yourself. You’re about as comfortable with your sexuality as a Hong Kong prostitute is without herpes.” He paused, steepling his hands in front of his face again. “But I didn’t come here today to taunt you. Well, I did, but not in this manner.”

Liz scowled at him. It was irritating when Jack said things like that, but when Banks did it, she wanted to punch in the face and then do it again. Which she would totally do. Because she was wearing her Chuck Taylors, which meant she could run away pretty quickly.

“Save some of that fire for the big news, tiger.” She hated him. And his stupid face. There was no way those were the teeth he’d been born with. Never mind that nobody was born with teeth. “I’m your new boss.”

“What?” Liz had been so busy hating him that she nearly missed what he said. “You’re taking over Jack’s position? But what about West Coast Programming?”

“Oh, I’ve been training someone,” he said. “Took him under my wing a couple years ago. He’s good, real good.”

“Gross,” Liz breathed.

Banks ignored her.

“I wanted to let you know that I’ll be in New York at the end of the week. I have to wrap up a few loose ends out here, but soon I’ll be in charge of things at 30 Rock. The microwaves will take care of themselves for a couple days.”

“Are you letting all the showrunners know about this? Or am I getting special treatment?”

“I think you’ve had special treatment for too long now. Donaghy’s dead, Lemon, and he’s not coming back. Things are going to change. There isn’t going to be a hint of his legacy left by the time I’m ready to move into Geiss’s position. I’m going to rip up the fields and salt the earth.” He leaned back in his chair, like he’d just won a hand of Go Fish and was lording it over all the other third-graders.

“Is that a threat? Because I don’t respond well to threats. They just make me nauseous and confused, and if you want me to throw up on the carpet in your new office, keep on threatening me. That smell never goes away.” She started to gag. “Ugh, is this carpet silk? That’s not going to be good.”

“I’m keeping my eye on you, Lemon. You’re on my list.” He dropped his voice. “Of troublemakers.”

Liz bent over the arm of the chair. This wasn’t the first time she’d faked throwing up to get out of something. It was how she’d gotten out of peeing in a cup for her school physical three years in a row, and then there was that boy she’d dated in college that she couldn’t think of a way to break up with, so whenever he went to kiss her -- blerg.

Banks watched her with a disgusted little curl to his lips, the same way some people looked at toddlers and little yappy dogs. When Liz made a particular aggressive retching sound, he audibly swallowed and cleared his throat.

“Watch your back,” he said before flipping a switch on his end. The screen went to color bars, and Liz sat up in the peacock chair, feeling a little lightheaded from hanging over the arm.

What was going to happen next? Was Tracy going to try to pull a Godzilla on Manhattan again? Would he try for a suburb? Was Jenna going to have another David Blaine crisis? Would Lutz call in sick with March Madness? When it wasn’t even March? And what was Banks up to? His antagonism toward Jack and his promise to destroy everything that Jack had built up -- oh, narf, TGS? Did Banks have plans for TGS?

Suddenly, Liz felt like she might barf for real.

***


Every writer, actor and member of the auxiliary personnel for TGS was crowded into Jenna’s dressing room. The only real “auxiliary personnel” were Kenneth and Cerie -- Pete didn’t count Grizz and Dot Com because they were part of Tracy and TGS didn’t pay their salaries -- but he was pretty sure that the number of writers had doubled overnight. He had suggested that they use Tracy’s dressing room, because it was bigger, but Jenna had something about NYU and the men’s swimming team that he had tuned out after she hit a verb, so he had agreed to cram everybody in the glorified closet that Josh had been so proud of when it was his. It still had a weird Josh smell to it, sort of a hair gel and Easy Mac pong.

Pete had looked into the “Liz had a man in her apartment this morning” situation by trying to talk to her about it, and she had flung a couch cushion at his head as soon as he stuck it through her office door. So he had called the staff together. Away from Liz’s office. She had sharp things in there.

“I’ve called this meeting because I have some concerns about Liz’s mental state,” Pete said. They ignored them. Everybody was fixated on the story Frank was telling.

“Really, people, that rat was so big, it could’ve been a chihuahua. I’ve got it in a cage in my closet,” Frank was saying, holding his hands apart to show how big the rat was.

“Frank, what are you going to do with a rat the size of a chihuahua?” Pete asked.

“I think I’m going to give it to my mom for Christmas. She’s been talking about getting a dog, and, hey, here’s a free one.”

It dawned on Pete that this was the sort of thing that Liz heard every hour she was awake and some of the ones where she should have been sleeping, which meant the idea that work had driven her crazy was becoming more and more real with every passing second.

“Right,” he said, clapping his hands together and surveying the room. “As I was saying before, I called you all together today, in secret, because I’m worried about Liz. I think Donaghy’s death has hit her pretty hard, and she basically told Cerie this morning that she had a boyfriend. That’s the first I’ve heard of that.”

“But Liz hasn’t faked a boyfriend since the ‘90s,” Jenna said.

“I know. This is looking serious. Somebody’s got to look into this, because if Liz isn’t around, then the show’s going to be nothing more than one long string of fart jokes and skits about how Tucker Carlson looks like a gnome in a bowtie.”

“That’s basically true now. And fart jokes are funny.” Frank pointed at his hat. It said GAS MAN in two-inch high letters.

“I’d expect you to say something like that,” Toofer said. “Those Tucker Carlson sketches were written by a Harvard graduate.”

“You guys, knock it off.” Pete crossed his arms across his chest. “That stuff doesn’t matter, because Liz is our friend.” It was like lecturing his kids. If somebody started rubbing themselves on the carpet, he’d have to call his wife to deal with it.

“What if we captured her and interrogated her?” Josh asked.

“Yeah! Like in Star Wars, when Han Solo captured Darth Vader and cut his hand off when he wouldn’t talk.” Tracy raised one eyebrow and tried to look wise.

“OK, Tracy, that never happened. And interrogating Liz isn’t an option. We want her to relax, not have flashbacks ten years down the road. We need someone to keep an eye on her.”

“You want us to spy on her? Like in the shower and stuff?” Frank asked.

“No, Frank. That’s not what I meant. We need someone to kind of follow her around, see if she does anything suspicious, maybe call the cops if she starts having conversations with herself in alleyways. See if she’s meeting a guy somewhere on the sly, so we know this is just her usual neurosis.”

Jenna stood up, her hand over her heart, the same expression on her face as the one she had had when she played Evita Peron. Intense, patriotic, really concerned about her wardrobe.

“I’ll do it,” she said.

Pete looked at her.

“No.” He scanned the room again. With Liz on the fritz, Grizz and Dot Com had to keep a close eye on Tracy, so they were out. Josh? Toofer? They were about as subtle as a knife in the back. And Frank was definitely out. Cerie wasn’t the right type. The exponentially increasing pool of writers wouldn’t know what to look for.

His eye lit on the one person left in the room. Tall, blond, unassuming. His tie precisely knotted, his lapel pin absolutely straight in his lapel, blue-eyed innocence pouring off him like stink off a hobo. Even now, he looked slightly thrilled to be included in a secret meeting about one of his bosses.

Pete crossed the room and clasped him by the shoulder.

“Kenneth,” he said, “I’ve got an assignment for you.”

To be continued . . .




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Comments {37}

excellent conversationalist (with food)

(no subject)

from: muic
date: Jul. 24th, 2008 01:51 pm (UTC)
Link

You are amazing to be able to write crack fic for a show that is already whacked out. I LOVE THIS. Too many good lines (Jack attack!) and you are really good with your characterization. Like insanely good. I can hear their voices in my head (hm).

Looking forward to next Monday! Btw you should post this at the 30_rock lj comm. It's a crime that not more people know about this fic!

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msmcknittington

(no subject)

from: msmcknittington
date: Jul. 24th, 2008 06:30 pm (UTC)
Link

Yay! Thank you!

Ha ha, I don't know whether I'm amazing or clinically insane to be able to write something like this. Kenneth should probably be stalking me.

Hmm, I think I will post this at 30_rock. Because I'm having a Jenna moment. Attention, please.

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excellent conversationalist (with food)

(no subject)

from: muic
date: Jul. 25th, 2008 01:07 pm (UTC)
Link

I don't know whether I'm amazing or clinically insane to be able to write something like this.

Well geniuses are usually slightly nuts. hee. In any case, just watch out for any Sydney Bristow lookalike.

And because this needs much more attention till the point where Jenna would be jealous of you, you could post this at the jack_liz comm too. I should have mentioned it in the first post but my brain's usually retarded after work and I forget stuff.

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msmcknittington

(no subject)

from: msmcknittington
date: Jul. 25th, 2008 10:54 pm (UTC)
Link

Ooh, another comm! Thank you. Are there people who belong there that don't belong to 30_rock and 30rockfanfic?

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excellent conversationalist (with food)

(no subject)

from: muic
date: Jul. 26th, 2008 12:31 am (UTC)
Link

Um. Not too sure about that. Just that sometimes I skim through my f-list real quick and I tend to miss out on stuff.

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msmcknittington

(no subject)

from: msmcknittington
date: Jul. 26th, 2008 12:37 am (UTC)
Link

It's too late now. The floodgates have been opened! Mwah ha ha!

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The Mighty B

(no subject)

from: runawayblue
date: Jul. 24th, 2008 02:43 pm (UTC)
Link

So many good lines on there! Awesome work, I'm looking forward to the next bit.

Also YESSSS DEVON. I love Devon. I'm horrible because I was sitting there reading through this and hoping it would be Devon who took over Jack's job, haha I am a jerk XD

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msmcknittington

(no subject)

from: msmcknittington
date: Jul. 24th, 2008 06:32 pm (UTC)
Link

Thank you!

I couldn't imagine putting anyone else in there. Not even Kenneth, as amusing as that would be.

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Lisa

(no subject)

from: lalittlecricket
date: Jul. 24th, 2008 11:16 pm (UTC)
Link

Wow, pretty good characterizations! I'm not normally a big fanfic person but I really enjoy reading most 30 Rock fanfic and this is no exception.

Just a couple of things--doesn't Cerie call Liz "Liz" rather than "Ms. Lemon?" I could be wrong about that, but trying to picture her and "hear her" in my mind calling Liz "Ms. Lemon" was weird and I could swear she's called her Liz before.

Also, the character in Evita is Eva Peron (her first name isn't actually Evita). Just minor stuff--and I'm sorry if it's not kosher to bring that stuff up here! I'm not really familiar with fanfic protocol, ;).

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msmcknittington

(no subject)

from: msmcknittington
date: Jul. 24th, 2008 11:39 pm (UTC)
Link

I'm not sure about what Cerie calls Liz, as all the episodes featuring Cerie talking to Liz have been deleted off the Tivo. I went with Ms. Lemon because I got tired of typing "Liz".

Eva Perón is frequently referred to as Evita, almost to exclusion of Eva. Really. That's why the musical is called Evita. I didn't know if my readers would be familiar enough with Argentina to hook up Evita with Eva Perón so there you have it.

Thank you for the comment.

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Lisa

(no subject)

from: lalittlecricket
date: Jul. 25th, 2008 12:25 am (UTC)
Link

Uh, you're welcome? Guess I wasn't gushing and effusive enough, like everyone else.

And yeah, Cerie definitely calls her Liz (I do not have Tivo, just a computer), and when people actually refer to Evita with her full name, they usually say or write "Eva Peron," rather than Evita which is often just used as a one-word affectionate nickname, like "Cher." To help out your readers whom you think wouldn't get the reference, why not just have Jenna say "Evita," which is both the name of the musical and Eva Peron's nickname, instead of having her say "Evita Peron?"

Not that any of this matters. People take fanfic too seriously as it is. The only reason I'm replying to your comment is because I honestly liked your story overall and was just trying to be helpful/constructive and you felt the need to get snippy and defensive, which I guess I should have anticipated given the number of even mildly critical comments I've ever seen anyone make towards fanfic, which is essentially zero. Sorry I said anything. Back to lurking and occasionally reading.

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msmcknittington

(no subject)

from: msmcknittington
date: Jul. 25th, 2008 12:36 am (UTC)
Link

I don't think I was snippy or defensive, but I guess people can't read tone on the internet.

As you said they were small nitpicks, and I was just explaining why I made the decisions I did.

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Lisa

(no subject)

from: lalittlecricket
date: Jul. 25th, 2008 12:53 am (UTC)
Link

You're right, reading tone is difficult sometimes. I honestly thought you misread me and were really being derisive, especially with the "Really. That's why the musical is called Evita" thing. Sorry I went a little bonkers; won't happen again. Truce.

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msmcknittington

(no subject)

from: msmcknittington
date: Jul. 25th, 2008 01:08 am (UTC)
Link

No problem. I'm just used to explaining things to preschoolers, so sometimes I come off a little terse because you have to use very short sentences. I get stuck in little kid mode sometimes.

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Ima E. Choo

(no subject)

from: out_of_ctrl
date: Jul. 24th, 2008 11:57 pm (UTC)
Link

Found this through the 30_rock comm.

I love the storyline so far. Characterizations are spot-on and I'll be damned if they don't make an episode out of this!

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msmcknittington

(no subject)

from: msmcknittington
date: Jul. 25th, 2008 12:37 am (UTC)
Link

Thanks for telling me where you found it. Maybe I should keep records . . .

Ha! A Hallowe'en special?

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Cec

(no subject)

from: cecism
date: Jul. 25th, 2008 06:25 am (UTC)
Link

Still absolutely loving this! It's all so perfectly executed and the characterisation is fantastic. And having Devon appear like that was great!

I'm such a fan of this fic, seriously. Can't wait for the next three (hurrah! Long-windedness ftw!) parts.

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msmcknittington

(no subject)

from: msmcknittington
date: Jul. 25th, 2008 10:05 pm (UTC)
Link

Ah, thank you so much. I couldn't picture any other character appearing to take over Jack's job with that much, uh, panache.

I hope you enjoy the next parts just as much!

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Lord Arlen's wife

(no subject)

from: ladyanneboleyn
date: Jul. 26th, 2008 05:13 am (UTC)
Link

Love the Star Wars and Evita references.

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msmcknittington

(no subject)

from: msmcknittington
date: Oct. 21st, 2008 02:13 am (UTC)
Link

Thanks!

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wildthing0088

(no subject)

from: wildthing0088
date: Jul. 26th, 2008 06:45 pm (UTC)
Link

dude... this is amazing... this would be an awesome episode...

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msmcknittington

(no subject)

from: msmcknittington
date: Oct. 21st, 2008 02:04 am (UTC)
Link

Thanks!

With all the guest stars for the new season, who knows what might happen! Maybe we'll see Harrison Ford as the ghost of heart attacks past or something.

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shesgottaread

(no subject)

from: shesgottaread
date: Aug. 6th, 2008 04:24 am (UTC)
Link

Hey, quite interesting, and I'm looking forward to seeing what you've got planned for Jack. Thanks for writing! --sgr

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msmcknittington

(no subject)

from: msmcknittington
date: Oct. 21st, 2008 02:04 am (UTC)
Link

Thanks for reading!

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Keep it going!!!

from: anonymous
date: Oct. 4th, 2008 03:54 pm (UTC)
Link

I just finish this are you gonna write more?, you really should ´cause is different in a great way and I (and I think a lot of people by the way) would lovw to no now how it ends. So please make us happy

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msmcknittington

Re: Keep it going!!!

from: msmcknittington
date: Oct. 21st, 2008 02:14 am (UTC)
Link

Thank you! I'm still working on it, but real life got in the way for a bit. See the note at the end of this fic. I hope to have it all posted before NaNoWriMo begins!

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Keep it going!!!

from: anonymous
date: Oct. 4th, 2008 03:55 pm (UTC)
Link

I just finish this are you gonna write more?, you really should ´cause is different in a great way and I (and I think a lot of people by the way) would love to know how it ends. So please make us happy

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lynn_42

(no subject)

from: lynn_42
date: Oct. 21st, 2008 01:37 am (UTC)
Link

Wow! I just stumbled across this fantastic story, and I really hope you haven't abandoned it. So far, I absolutely adore this. I love this idea of Jack being sort of in-limbo, and Liz is the only one who can help (or see) him. It is hilarious, and I really, really hope that you haven't given up on this and that we'll get to read the other three parts. Unless you posted them somewhere else and I missed them? If I did, please let me know where they would be! If not, please post them soon! :D

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msmcknittington

(no subject)

from: msmcknittington
date: Oct. 21st, 2008 02:25 am (UTC)
Link

Nope! It's not abandoned. See the note at the end of this entry. (Ha! I see you've read and reviewed that one.) I just got really busy and lost my writing mojo for a while. It's mostly done, but needs some bridging sections written so it flows.

So, hold tight! Probably before the end of November, before Christmas for sure.

So far, I absolutely adore this. I love this idea of Jack being sort of in-limbo, and Liz is the only one who can help (or see) him.

Thank you! Believe it or not, it came to me in a dream. (What? No! Really? You mean you weren't high?) It's kind of Star Wars, isn't it? Only Liz is Obi Wan and Jack is Leia.

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lynn_42

(no subject)

from: lynn_42
date: Oct. 21st, 2008 08:05 pm (UTC)
Link

Aha! I'm stupid. I guess I didn't read (or really process) that section of your note when I reviewed the first story, and then I didn't connect you as the author of both fics when I read this one. Okay! Sorry for being so dense. :) Glad to know it's being worked on, though!

Really?? I wish I had dreams like that!! That's awesome! You're right, it is very "Star Wars"-esque. It also kind of reminds me of the movie "Just Like Heaven" (a chick flick with Reese Witherspoon and Mark Ruffalo), but at the same time, not really. Though it's probably a good thing that it doesn't bear complete resemblance to "Just Like Heaven," which was a thoroughly average romantic comedy. Whatever the case is, this is wonderful so far and I'm so happy to realize that it's not abandoned. It is truly a tragedy whenever authors write a fantastic couple of chapters to a really promising fan fic and then abandon it, never to be updated again.

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letsgowiththat

(no subject)

from: letsgowiththat
date: Nov. 5th, 2008 11:59 pm (UTC)
Link

Are you planning to continue this?

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courtney_mudie7

(no subject)

from: courtney_mudie7
date: Nov. 8th, 2008 10:51 am (UTC)
Link

this is fantastic! love this!

was looking for part 3, but couldnt find it :( *cries*

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(no subject)

from: anonymous
date: Nov. 25th, 2008 08:18 pm (UTC)
Link

AHHH! I have been looking every day to see as to whether or not you have the next chapter (3) up, to no avail! Is there any time frame for when we will get the next part?

Thank you.

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(no subject)

from: anonymous
date: Feb. 6th, 2009 11:52 pm (UTC)
Link

You MUST put up the rest of this story. I LOVE IT! Love the supernatural theme. Really good dialogue and hilarious lines! Plus I really want to find out what happens. :)

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Yu

(no subject)

from: shikabane_mai
date: Aug. 20th, 2009 05:38 pm (UTC)
Link

Wow. I have to say that this is seriously the best Jack/Liz story I've read. Everybody is so in-character, even all the minor characters (the writers). I love how there are A plots and B plots going on. I can't wait to see how the A plot unfolds and what Jack needs to do to come back alive. As for the B plot, I can't wait to see what Kenneth is going to see when he starts following Liz. Everything about this story is just so cleverly written! Has this story been abandoned, by the way? :'( I can only find two chapters of this amazing fanfic. :(

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msmcknittington

(no subject)

from: msmcknittington
date: Aug. 20th, 2009 07:57 pm (UTC)
Link

Thank you! I'm very glad you enjoyed it. <3

I wouldn't exactly call it abandoned, but I have been focusing on other things lately. Some more important, some not. :) I intend to finish it, just not in a timely manner, apparently.

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Aw...

from: novusquestus
date: Feb. 3rd, 2010 04:33 pm (UTC)
Link

I just found this, and was really disappointed to see that it has been stuck on part two of five for a year and a half. It's not getting finished, is it? =( On the plus side though, it's extremely awesome.

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