#and pete would make chris rewind the part where chris came because he ‘loves the noises’

[0vercastgirl]

More of you need to get tinhatty about pete and chris

[myassbrokethefall]

Your 792 chapter coffee shop AU sounds like a new art form. I really think you should take on this challenge.

I would just like to say, for the record, that I DO have a healthy embarrassment over (a) the fact that I wrote this and (b) how much time today I spent on it.

CHAPTER 1

“My expectation is we will not have something next season. It isn’t impossible, but the clock is getting pretty tight.”

Hear that? That doubtful voice, those killjoy words? That’s me. Sigh.

Let me introduce myself. I’m Gary Newman, and I work for Fox. That’s me explaining to IndieWire that SOMEONE got some facts confused. About MY project. I’ve only been working on it for months and months, and I was starting to feel like I was really getting somewhere – and now David Madden might have screwed it all up.

Here’s me again: “It’s not easy to find time. We would love to do it again, and I believe there will be a time when it happens, but it does not feel imminent to me.”

OK, PAUSE. REWIND. Let me start at the beginning.

David and I both work at Fox. He’s the president of Fox Entertainment, and I’m co-chairman/CEO of Fox Television Group. We don’t even know each other that well – we pass each other in the halls sometimes, but we don’t have that many meetings together or anything. Yesterday was the TCAs – only the biggest TV press event of the year. And David wanted to come present with me. I was a little doubtful at first – did he know my project? Hell no, not like I do. But I figured it would be good to have some backup up there. Everyone likes David M. He’s good-looking, 71, medium build, obviously does a lot of NordicTrack. Whatever. He’s all right. I don’t really know him that well, like I said. He has amazing eyebrows. Ugh, please forget I just said that.

Anyway. My project. What’s it’s about? Glad you asked!

Our network used to have this show, The X-Files. Back in the day, everyone loved it. And last year, I brought it back. (Well, me and my bestie, Dana Walden – we’re co-chairs/CEOs. We do everything together.) It took a ton of work! First I had to get the creator, Chris “Old Man” Carter, on board. He’s this eccentric guy who lives in a beach house and surfs all the time. He has longish hair, sort of like an MTV VJ. He was up for it. But THEN, I had to convince the show’s stars, Gillian Anderson and David Duchovny. Don’t even get me started on them. They are both weirdos. But, super long story short, they finally agreed to work with us. We did the show, and it did great! Sure, the plot didn’t make any sense and the emotional arc was nonexistent (that’s Old Man Carter for you), but everyone liked it anyway. (Except the AV Club, but everyone knows they’re dicks.)

So we – me and Dana – were going to do another season. Once again, we talked to Old Man Carter and he was all for it. I think he has a lot of free time. That’s cool. But you know who doesn’t have a lot of free time? David D. and Gillian. They are both super popular, and BUSY. It was kind of a miracle that they agreed to help last time. So I’d been working on both of them – slowly and carefully. Figuring out schedules. Proposing deals. You know, executive stuff. And – things were moving forward. Slowly. And carefully. We’d had some setbacks, but I was still optimistic.

Cut to yesterday afternoon. There we were at the TCAs, talking to basically every entertainment reporter in the US of A. I’m all ready with more cautious optimism – the last thing we need is for the press to get prematurely excited and start reporting that the new season is a done deal. That could screw up negotiations in who even KNOWS how many ways. So David Madden, who basically horned in on my presentation, is up there with me. And here’s what he says:

“Sure, the deal-making is complex, but we expect to have an announcement shortly. Heck, we were hoping to reveal it today! But the deals aren’t QUITE done. I’ll tell you this, though – it’s going to be way more than six episodes! Not as many as 22, but still a lot.”

What??!?!

Oh, OK. I’ve only been working my BUTT off to keep everything moving forward, this delicate balance, trying not to promise anything or step on anyone’s toes. Can I just tell you – I have woken up nights thinking about this. Worrying that Bryan Fuller was going to steal Gillian away to NBC (our big rival) to be the lead in a series about a gay shoe store on Saturn run by ghosts or something. (You probably think I’m exaggerating, but you haven’t met Bryan Fuller.) Worrying that David D. would decide to stop acting entirely because now he’s super into being a singer-songwriter. (Here’s a secret – and it’s kind of mean, sorry – David D. CANNOT EVEN SING. But you did NOT hear that from me.) Worrying that Old Man Carter will just disappear into the jungle one day and never return. (Actually that might uncomplicate some things, but you did not hear that from me either.)

So that’s what he said, and that’s why after the press conference I had to set the record straight. And so, I come off looking like the bad guy. Me, Gary Newman! I love X-Files! I’m the one who’s been working so hard to bring it back! I am so ticked off right now I can’t tell you.

Next day. Dana and I were at our after-work job. We work at a coffee shop called The Twentieth Cup. It’s a pretty chill place, a lot of execs and middle managers, some talent. You might think being co-chair/CEO of a major television studio would be enough of a time commitment, but I guess I’m kind of an overachiever sometimes, plus I like having that extra pocket money. I still get about three and a half hours of sleep, so it works out OK.

We had just gotten on shift. I looked around, and sighed when I saw who was sitting at her usual table near the door. Anne Simon is Old Man Carter’s best friend. She helped him with his part of the project last year. But sometimes she just parks herself at Twentieth and sits there with her laptop and barely orders anything. I swear, one day she had a single biscotti and a cup of water and she was there for my entire shift. And she used about 50 napkins. (She draws on them. Science stuff, I guess.) She’s OK, but she’s kind of a gossip. I was NOT psyched to have her there when I was still steaming about what David M. had said.

“I wonder if we’ll see you-know-who today,” said Dana.

“Who?” Sigh. I knew who.

“David M., of course.” Dana had a funny grin on her face. Oh, for pete’s SAKE.

“I do NOT want to see that guy,” I said, teeth gritted, and as quietly as I could manage so Anne wouldn’t overhear.

“Do you really think what he said was that bad? What’s wrong with getting people a little excited about more X-Files? We can definitely close those deals, eventually. Don’t you think?”

“It’s not going to make it any easier having the press up our butts about everything! Not to mention, what if it scares David D. and Gillian off? You know how prickly they can be about people just assuming they’ll do a project.”

“Will you relax? I doubt Gillian and David D. even pay attention to the TCAs.”

I sighed. Loud. Anne glanced over at me. I lowered my voice. “I just can’t believe him,” I said. “Why would he SAY that? He’s just so…so…”

“So what?” Dana asked, wiping down the counter. Dana is a great multitasker. Not to mention my rock.

“Ugh! I don’t even know!” I clenched my fists. I could see David M.’s face in my mind’s eye. That receding hairline. That smirk. Those EYEBROWS. I felt my cheeks flush.

“You know,” Dana said mildly, “for someone who can’t stand David Madden, you sure talk about him a lot.”

“Shut up, Dana,” I said, but my voice came out with less force than I intended. She grinned and went to put the rag back. “YOU brought him up!” I added, but even to my own ears I didn’t sound too convincing.

From outside, there came a faint sound of breaking glass. I looked up. An old GM EV1 had pulled up and collided with the streetlight, breaking one of the headlights. “Oh boy,” Dana muttered.

The shop door opened and David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson swept in, having a muttered argument. As usual, all heads in the place turned toward them, and also as usual, they barely noticed. “I’m SORRY!” Gillian was saying. “You can barely see that bloody pole. It’s tiny. You’re OK, right?”

“I should never have let you drive my car,” David D. grumbled. “They don’t even make EV1s anymore. I don’t know where I’m going to get a replacement headlight.”

“Just look on eBay! I’ll look for you. Someone will have one.” Gillian dismissed him with a wave of her hand. He rolled his eyes as they approached my register.

“Hey, Gary,” David D. said. He didn’t take off his sunglasses. Sometimes he wears them inside. I heard one of his pupils is bigger than the other one, which is crazy. Dana told me it was a basketball accident. Yikes.

“Hi David,” I said. “Hi, Gillian. What can I get for you guys?”

“I’ll have a large kale smoothie,” David said. “With double kale, please.”

“Double kale, you got it.” I nodded at Dana, who went off to the refrigerator. David was getting out his wallet, which was just a plastic bag with dollar bills in it that he had stuffed in his pants pocket. He started to uncrumple his money. I cleared my throat.

“Hey, so, you guys are still maybe thinking about doing the next X-Files, right?” I tried to sound super casual. I THINK I pulled it off.

“Perhaps,” Gillian said. She was speaking in her British accent. Sometimes she’s British, sometimes American. It’s called bidialectical and it’s a real thing, I swear. Gillian has a new British boyfriend so she’s been speaking British more often lately, and dressing fancier, and talking about the Queen all the time and stuff. (Her new boyfriend is SUPER into the royals.) She glanced at David D., then back at me. She has an intense gaze. I looked away first and fiddled with the cash register buttons, waiting for her to say more, but she didn’t.

“Sure,” said David. “If we have time.” David D. is more laid back than Gillian – most of the time – but he can get contrary if you come on too strong. He went vegetarian a few years ago when he was working on a book about talking farm animals. (I know. It was a good book though.) He’s not preachy about it though, which is cool. He handed me 14 dollar bills, mostly straightened out.

I glanced over at Dana, who was working on David’s smoothie. She made a face.  

“How about for you, Gillian?” I asked, turning back to her.

“I’ll have a cinnamon caramel nutella whip frappuccino with COLD whole milk, please. With chocolate sprinkles and some kettle corn if you have it. And a slice of that flourless chocolate cake, and this bag of pretzels. Thanks, Gary. Oh, and could you make the drink a double shot? I have to write a whole novel by tomorrow.” I raised my eyebrows. Gillian likes to stay busy, all right. (That’s half the problem.)

“Sure thing,” I said. “I’ll bring it over to you guys.” They nodded and grabbed a table in the corner. David pulled out a battered paperback and Gillian plunked a laptop onto the table. On the other side of the cafe, Anne Simon was tapping something intently into her phone.

(No, David and Gillian are NOT going out, and never have, or if they have no one has told ME about it at least. You wouldn’t know it sometimes though by how they act around each other. Sometimes it’s like they’re married, and then they won’t talk to each other for six months. Like I said – they’re weird.)

I was breathing a little easier. They weren’t bubbling over with enthusiasm or anything, but at least they didn’t seem ticked off by what David Madden had said. That was a relief.

Speak of the devil – I had just gotten back to the counter after delivering David and Gillian’s drinks when the bells on the door sounded again. I looked up, and there he was. David Madden, Fox Entertainment president, wearing a white button-down, dark brown Cole Haans, and a smirk. He met my eyes and I felt the flush creeping up my cheeks. Damn it.

He settled at a table not far from the counter. David D. and Gillian didn’t notice him (of course), but Anne did, and I saw her reach for her phone again.

“Hey, David,” Dana called out. “The usual?” David M. smiled and pointed finger guns at her. Ugh. Who does that?

Dana prepped his regular order, which is a large coffee, black, with extra sugar. (That’s David M. in a nutshell.) She put it on the counter, then looked at me.

“What?” I said testily.

She tapped the counter in front of the mug. “Gary, come on,” she said. “Bring it to him.”

Dana is my bestie, AND my rock, but sometimes she drives me absolutely up a wall. “Why?” I asked, hoping Anne couldn’t lip-read. “What makes you think I want to talk to David M.? Now or like, ever again?”

In answer, she just turned away and started loading the dishwasher. I sighed loudly, again. I picked up the mug, made my way to David M.’s table, and set it in front of him. He looked up when he saw me, lifted his amazing eyebrows, and smiled.

“Hi,” I said.

TO BE CONTINUED*

*EXCEPT NOT REALLY

Disclaimer: This is silliness, silliness, and silliness again. No harm or offense is intended to anyone parodied (even that is a stretch for this ridiculousness) here. Please don’t punish me by not making more X-Files. (Or by suing.)

Also I have no idea how old David Madden is or whether he does NordicTrack. He does have cool eyebrows though. 

[grapsandclaps]

GRAPS & CLAPS - THE GRIMSBY EDITION PART 2! (IT'S GRIM IN GRIMSBY).

Hello again. I am Chris Wilson, the official #GrimsbyGraps correspondent for Graps and Claps. Grimsby is quite a random place for dedicated coverage but until I can coax our Andy to visit the town with the third best football team in Lincolnshire (out of 3), someone needs to tell you how #GrimsbyGraps is taking over the world. Yes, really. Well, maybe.

It all started when some brilliant, creative genius invented the #GrimsbyGraps hashtag and-- Okay, fine, let's skip forward.

Since the last time we were here for BWR's Ignition, British Wrestling Revolution put tickets on sale for their next show, 'No Gods, No Masters'. It sold out in ten hours! This was for a bigger venue too: the first card at the prestigious - if a place for record, job and craft fairs counts as that - Cleethorpes Memorial Hall in 24 years. Unbelievable stuff. BWR then put tickets on sale for their April event also at the Memorial Hall, 'Dive and Kicking', possibly in hope of starting PROGRESS-style immediate sell-outs from now until the end of time. They have sold half their allocation so far. Pretty impressive for #GrimsbyGraps, but the difference between the two shows is one man alone. As discussed before on this blog, having the WWE UK champion Pete Dunne on the card guarantees an extra 80 to 100 ticket sales. He is a rare draw in the age of strongly-branded promotions themselves being the main attraction. 

BWR stacked the card for 'No Gods, No Masters'. Suddenly, a snowstorm in March. BWR came out relatively unscathed considering OTT and Discovery Wrestling have cancelled their plans for this weekend. However, BWR announced the morning of the show that Kay Lee Ray, Big T, Big Grizzly, and Tel Banham couldn't make it. And later in the afternoon, the weather had held down and choked Bram in Birmingham, meaning five matches would not go ahead as scheduled. The good news, though: the two big contests remained in tact.

So, let's get on with the report.

Firstly, you can tell I'm not Andy Ogden as my pre-show drinking involved a bottle of water to keep myself hydrated, followed by a severely-diluted protein shake due to my next shipment of powder being stuck in a van somewhere on the motorway (wouldn't have happened if Amazon used Simon Morris Transport). Yes, instead of pub crawling, I was in the gym until 30 minutes before bell-time. And that's why I'm only allowed to report on #GrimsbyGraps. 

'No Gods, No Masters' began with the ring announcer's opening spiel. Apparently "we're not jobbing to a snow storm" (actual words), and he used a variation of "the weather's cold outside but the action inside is RRREEEDDD HOT". Pop.

Out came Reese Ryan, doing his Nathan Cruz circa 2012 'Hollywood-with-a-thick-northern-accent' shtick. His advertised Blockbuster Announcement was in two parts: not only has he released Big T from his security detail and replaced him with evil choir boy Will Kroos, but he introduced the Real Wrestling VIP Championship. In wrestling, it seems you can bring your own title and it's legitimate. Jonny Storm appeared unannounced and challenged Ryan for the belt. What followed was a ten-minute bout in which Storm outclassed Ryan in between the referee somehow failing to notice the large evil choir boy attacking Storm. Kroos entered the ring and planted Storm with a DDT to ensure Ryan retained his "title".

Next, the Korn-dubstep antics of Guilty By Habit transcended Southside Wrestling as Robbie X and SUUUUUUUUPERTWAT Kip Sabian (replacing Big Grizzly) defeated The Proven's Caz Crash and Sam Wilder. This was a top-notch contest. I love how X and Sabian don't get along, as though they're only in GBH together because their mates are mates. An added bonus too: the match ended with a CHEEKY ROLL-UP and a CHEEKY HOLDING ONTO THE TIGHTS. #MyGraps.

Lana Austin was up next, accompanied by Eliza Roux and Jami Sparx. With Kay Lee Ray "too scared" to show up, Roux offered an open challenge on "her best friend Lana's" behalf. Little Miss Roxxy made her BWR debut by accepting. Although the crowd took a while to get into it, Austin and Roxxy put in quite a shift until everyone was emotionally invested. Roxxy finally gained momentum once Roux and Sparx were kicked out for their extra-curricular activities and hit a springboard knee-faceplant for the win. Roux and Sparx reappeared and left Roxxy laying on the canvas.

Before intermission, we saw the much-hyped hardcore match between Jimmy Havoc and local hero/silly boy Tyler Devlin. There were no pretences here: both men introduced every weapon they were planning to use from under the ring before the bell rung. Devlin's antics were mercifully less of his own doing this time, but he still managed to get thrown onto a ladder, bounce off a guardrail he had balanced from the ring, eat pins, get curb stomped onto pins, and falling after Havoc's rainmaker onto, yup, pins. Silly boy. Rewind a bit: the ultimate silly boy-ness came moments before when he executed a Jeff Hardy-style senton bomb from a ladder through a table outside the ring... and missed. It was the sickest spot I've seen in person since Death House. Silly boy. Havoc won with that aforementioned rainmaker. After the match, he got on the mic, said he was impressed with Devlin, "but you're just a Jimmy Havoc knock-off". Cue a kick to the nads. Bit harsh from Havoc. I'd say he's more a Clint Margera knock-off. 

Intermission. £1.10 for a can of Fanta Lemon went down very well considering I didn't know Fanta Lemon was still a thing. Meanwhile, the raffle was £1 PER NUMBER. Related note: Cleethorpes voted Tory.

After a forty minute break for some reason, we returned with Tyson T-Bone coming out. Originally he was meant to face Bram. His new opponent was... Gabriel Kidd. Every time I go to a show where someone pulls out, Kidd is the replacement. 3CW in November, PROGRESS Sheffield in December, now this. Never mind "Life Boat Man", he should be called "Answers The Phone Man".

Tyson T-Bone versus Gabriel Kidd sounded terrible on paper. Already in my head, I was going to dismiss the match. So, obviously, they fucked with me by having a blistering, hard-hitting brawl that went around the ring - including a sweet knee drop by Kidd onto T-Bone as he hung over the guardrail - and delivered more chops than a vegan's nightmare. It helped how the crowd were RRREEEDDD-HOT for this (take note, Sheffield Southside). T-Bone hit Kidd with a piledriver for the victory and both men were applauded. If it wasn't for the main event, this would've been my match of the night. Strange times indeed.

Next: Scotty Rawk, Cole Quinzel, Matt Myers, and Kelvin Kayton defeated Jimmy Mcilwee, Harry the Hammer Winston, evil choir boy Will Kroos, and (despite being fired in November) Simon Lancaster in a "Get the Lads on the Card" match. The crowd love Mcilwee's homeless, can't-get-a-BWR-contract-even-though-he's-on-every-card gimmick but there was nothing else noteworthy here.

El Ligero versus Tom Weaver versus Robbie X doing double-duty in place of Tel Banham. In a confusing series of events: the ring announcer said the following was a triple-threat match, Robbie X attacked Tom Weaver during his entrance, and he interjected himself into the match to make it... a triple threat match? The announcer tried back-tracking by saying he "suddenly understood" the original third participant couldn't be there, but it was a bit contrived (sorry, readers). This was another excellent contest. Weaver hit a shooting star press on X for the victory before Ligero approvingly shook his hand. I hope they find something substantial for Weaver - as a local lad, he deserves more high-profile fights at these bigger shows than winning throwaway - albeit great - triple threat matches.

In the main event, WWE UK champion Pete Dunne faced the World #GrimsbyGraps Champion Joseph Conners for the latter's title. With this being the third high-profile match between the two in seven weeks (PROGRESS, TNT, here), a friend joked they are this generation's Jonny Storm versus Jody Fleisch. And you can't help but admit they work really well together, telling a well-told story of the cocky AF Dunne stretching Conners as the World #GrimsbyGraps Champion got the crowd (who were evenly split) behind him to make his comeback. I admire how Dunne never half-arses a match, pulling out the same flips and top-rope stomps and high-octane brawling as seen in Fight Club Pro. Together they brought out a big match feel likely never seen in Grimsby/Cleethorpes. It's a massive credit to both men. But...

...let's quickly talk about Dunne's WWE UK title. I can't believe this has never been angrily discussed on Twitter. Can you name me one time other than PROGRESS Ally Pally where the current UK champion has taken a pinfall or submission loss at a non-WWE show? It's as though there's a contractual obligation or something. To be fair, I believed for a couple of near falls that Dunne would become the World #GrimsbyGraps Champion, even if I never believed Conners would cleanly retain the title. Here came the bullshit finish: Tyson T-Bone ran in and attacked both men. No contest. Conners and Dunne chased off T-Bone. Then Conners challenged Dunne to continue the match, only for Dunne to kick him in the nads and leave. Conners got on the mic again and teased a rematch between the two down the line to end the show. Finish aside, this was easily the best match in the era of #GrimsbyGraps to date. 

'No Gods, No Masters' as a whole, putting aside my local pride, was a top-shelf show. They overcame the weather and delivered one of the stronger cards I've been to for some time. The crowd was well up for the action, while the wrestlers brought their A-game. Cleethorpes Memorial Hall is a cracking venue for the graps too. Definitely worth the visit if you're coming from out of town. Just, you know, avoid going out in Cleethorpes afterwards if you enjoy your health and wellbeing. 

Here's hoping the momentum continues into 'Dive and Kicking' on April 20th. This event will feature a tournament to crown the first-ever BWR Cruiserweight champion - an odd choice for a division given all but three guys are cruiserweights, but there we go. Of course, your #GrimsbyGraps correspondent will be there in person, so I'll see you back on Graps and Claps on the 21st. 

Until next time!