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maxwellatoms · 11 months ago

Note

In one of your last answers, you said “series reboots are usually pretty gross and sad”, and I was wondering if you could expand on that? Assuming “reboot” covers any kind of continuation of a currently cancelled or finished show (and maybe that’s the wrong assumption!), from the outside looking in it feels like a pretty mixed bag. On one hand, if I love XYZ Show, it’s cool that I get more stories with these characters and another chance to support XYZ Show and its creators. On the other, it definitely feels like a lot of ideas can only get funding if they’re tied to something already, meaning creatives are having to now tie whatever cool idea they have to some reboot/relaunch/retread, which can feel pretty disheartening if you don’t want to do a reboot/relaunch/retread. Is that a similar feeling from your side of the industry?

Thank you so much for all your answers and insight!

Usually reboots and spin-offs are just cash grabs. It happens a lot in animation. In fact, I would argue that the entire industry is just one big cash grab now. In the 80s, everyone complained that cartoons were just half-hour commercials for toys. And they were right. And we're right back there, but now that you can't legally push toys all day, it's just general "IP". Mugs, posters, more spinoffs, whatever.

I was offered three show running gigs over the pandemic. All reboots that I would consider unwise to pursue because they were "of a different time" and didn't (in my opinion) have anything more to say. Two of them were properties created by notorious sex pests, so there's also that. The animation industry loves to prop up its sex pests.

I turned all of them down, partially because I didn't respect the original creators but also because none of them had anything going for them except just being "more of the same".

I don't think any of those projects survived the intervening years, so in retrospect I maybe should've taken the job. I'd probably feel a bit gross, but at least I'd have floors in my house.

The entertainment industry is in a bad spot. The whole thing. I've had I don't know how many pitch meetings in the last few years, and they all start the same way:

"Hey! Before we start, we just want to let you know that we're not actively producing anything right now. We think maybe soon, but we won't be picking anything up today..."

And then later:

"The little we are doing is IP, so if you have a new take on our IP or a new IP you're connected to that you can bring in, that'd be great."

I always wanted to make original stuff. There came a time when I'd had my fill of Billy & Mandy and wanted to do something else new and original. That never manifested, and I was constantly being offered IP to produce. I turned too many of those down, maybe, before deciding that it was probably better that I run the IPs that mean something to me rather than having some hack do it.

But now those jobs have all gone to celebrities and fallen live-action writers, who are also slowly being eaten by the system. WB was hot for Scooby stuff a few years back, so I pitched some ideas. A few of them were turned down for being "off-brand" in a variety of ways. WB has now made (I think) all of those off-brand shows (or something close) with celebrity show runners.

I was going through a whole Midlife Impostor Syndrome thing recently where I was wondering if maybe I don't just suck. Like, it's weird that for a couple of decades I'd have people calling me trying to get me to run shows, and now nobody will call me back about the possibility of a design job.

Talking to some friends and realizing that they were in a similar situation helped me feel like I wasn't alone. That was nice. Talking to some of the most talented colleagues in my industry made me made me realize that those people weren't getting jobs either. That was unnerving. Talking to complete strangers in other parts of the entertainment industry now has me thinking that the whole house of cards is coming down. That's real concerning, yo.

It's hard not to think it's purposeful, when deranged billionaires own the entirety of our media and want to shape a society where they can't be criticized. We're letting wealthy tech bros firebomb the very heart of our culture, and it's weird that no one is talking about it. Because (for now) we still have that capability.

#maxwell atoms #entertainment industry #animation #intellectual property #turds

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submissivegayfrenchboy2 · 6 months ago

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11 / 11 / 2024

PERSONAL FICTIVE STORY

- GREG'S POOPS -

Handsome high school student Greg had a weak stomach, which was his only weakness. This tall, blond athlete was the king of the school, quite simply because he was the most muscular. Everyone was afraid of him. Well, the nerds and the losers, yes, because the other sporty guys were his friends. In addition to a loser who did his homework in all subjects (each of Greg's friends had a homework slave per subject), Greg also had bag carriers who had to wait for him at his yard with his stuff ready. What is certain is that the nerds live under the dictatorship of Greg, the sadistic bully.

Yes, every day, after lunch, a loser is "fed". He gives Greg his share of meals to help him gain extra strength, and in exchange Greg feeds the losers by forcing them to eat his shit. Each month, a calendar, prepared by a loser gifted in organization, is sent to each loser in high school so that they know what day and what time they will have to go eat Greg's shit. While Greg eats with his friends in the high school cafeteria, surrounded by losers who serve them, a nerd has to wait for his "meal".

Today it was Mark's turn, a typical nerd with glasses. He did not go to the cafeteria but waited in a bathroom stall.

Two friends of Greg, the king of high school, were waiting for him. They led him into the bathroom stall where Greg would come to shit later. He was forced to kneel in front of the bowl, waiting before eating.

Several minutes later, Greg came in to shit. His two friends were able to go to the cafeteria to eat, while two other friends guarded the bathroom doors, preventing anyone from coming to piss or shit while Greg was there. He paid little attention to the loser who was waiting headlong. Greg pulled down his pants, farted several times in the loser's face, which made him laugh, and sat down before starting to push to make his poop fall out.

At one point Greg was having so much trouble pushing to get his shit down that he leaned on the face of the nerd in front of him. The nerd tried not to think about the fact that Greg had just scratched his balls and ass, and that his face and hair would retain that smell: being touched by Greg was considered an honor for nerds, it was forbidden for them to clean their face if Greg had spit, burped or farted in their face. All of these victims lived in constant fear that this large, muscular, violent straight white male would strike them.

The toilet faggot would sometimes hold Greg's phone so he could watch a video while shitting or masturbating a little. Sometimes the loser had to read to Greg to distract him, sing a song to relax him (a song glorifying his praises), and if the faggot was cute, suck Greg's cock while he shit.

When Greg was done shitting, he turned his big, round, muscular ass towards Mark's face: the asshole was still shitty, and in any case Mark had to clean Greg's asshole with his tongue. Mark prayed that the same thing wouldn't happen to Stan two weeks ago.

Stan had been "fed" too, but had probably gotten shit in his face when Greg turned his ass towards him, and farted in his face. Stan then spent the rest of the day with shit in his face, provoking ridicule from his comrades. Not allowed to wash himself if he wanted to avoid being hit by Greg and/or his friends, Stan had chosen to smear the shit on his face and in his hair, making the teachers believe that he had received dirt in the face.

Since Stan, nerds have been dreading Greg's ass licking moment. Mark licked around the anus quickly to avoid an impatient Greg from pushing his face into his big shitty ass to wipe himself on it, which would have resulted in Mark's face being covered in shit. The speed of Mark's licking was interpreted by Greg as a sign of enthusiasm, while Mark only wanted to be quick to get it over with as quickly as possible.

Then, on his bully's command, Mark stuck his tongue into Greg's anus to make sure his stinky hole was clean. Once Greg's ass crack was cleaned, Mark was forced to thank Greg for "his meal." Mark looked at his "meal", and turned to Greg smiling and said "Hmmm Your poops are so huge, Mr. Greg! I've never seen them this big! That's a real man's shit ! They look delicious, the color is brighting ! The smell is appetizing! Thank you very much for this good, nourishing meal, mister Greg !”. Mark didn't think a word of it, but the more cheating a faggot, the less violent Greg was.

Greg dropped drops of piss on Mark's hair and a little in his mouth. So he went out and his friends stayed to watch the toilets. They would leave when they had proof that Mark had eaten everything. Indeed, Greg shit in a paper plate placed just above the water in the bowl, so that the nerds would eat "pure" droppings, that is to say those which were not mixed with the bowl's water.

The plate, once the droppings had been swallowed, had to be completely white at the end of the “meal”. One of Greg's two friends was guarding the bathroom door and another was watching the faggot. Added to the disgust at the smell and taste of Greg's enormous droppings was the pressure of speed, because Greg's friends were merciless. They shouted insults at the fags, kicked them in the butt to see them suffer or gave them the number of minutes they had left.

"I don't just have to watch over a faggot's lunch! Eat your lunch faster, fag ! Come on, this delicious shit doesn't have to be so difficult to eat! Why are you crying? Your god Greg gave fed you, he is generous and could have let your starve!” : these are the kind of sentences the fags heard while they swallowed the long, thick stinking turds of the king of high school.

In short, eating Greg's huge droppings was far from being a moment of joy for losers. None of them wanted to eat all day, the droppings were so long and thick.

In short, eating Greg's huge droppings was far from being a moment of joy for losers. None of them wanted to eat all day, the droppings were so long and thick. It felt like I had eaten an entire chocolate cake, but it tasted terrible. If some fags experienced these moments as torture and cried, others understood that Greg and his friends would stop humiliating them if they pretended to feel pleasure from eating his shit. Indeed, Greg did not want to feed them his droppings for their pleasure.

Thus, we saw fags begging Greg on their knees, alone or in groups, to be able to eat his shit. This made Greg and his friends laugh, but they ignored the fags, who at least avoided being hit by this already very muscular man for his young age, or by him and his friends at the same time. All the other queers prayed they wouldn't end up at the same university as Greg and his friends.

END OF STORY

.................................................................................

HISTOIRE FICTIVE PERSONNELLE

- LES CROTTES DE GREG -

Le beau lycéen Greg avait un estomac fragile, ce qui était son seul défaut. Ce grand sportif blond était le roi de l'école, tout simplement car il était le plus musclé. Tout le monde avait peur de lui. Enfin, les intellos et les losers, oui, car les autres mecs sportifs étaient ses amis. Ce qui est sûr, c'est que les intellos vivent sous la dictature de Greg, qui fait partie d'eux.

Oui, chaque jour, après le déjeuner, un loser est "nourri". Il donne sa part de repas à Greg afin de lui permettre de prendre des forces supplémentaires, et en échange Greg nourrit les losers en les obligeant à manger sa merde. Chaque mois, un calendrier, préparé par un loser doué en organisation, est transmis à chaque loser du lycée pour qu'il sache à quel jour et quelle heure il devra aller manger la merde de Greg. Pendant que Greg mange avec ses amis à la cafétéria du lycée, entouré de losers qui les servent, un intello doit attendre son "repas".

Aujourd'hui, c'était le tour de Mark, un intello à lunettes. Il ne s'est pas rendu à la cafétéria mais a été attendre dans une cabine de toilettes. Deux amis de Greg, le roi du lycée, l'attendaient. Ils l'ont conduit dans la cabine de toilettes où Greg viendrait chier tout à l'heure. Il a été obligé de s'agenouiller face à la cuvette, patientant avant de manger. Plusieurs minutes plus tard, Greg est arrivé pour chier. Ses deux amis ont pu aller à la cafétéria pour manger, tandis que deux autres amis gardaient les portes des toilettes, empêchant quiconque de venir pisser ou chier tant que Greg y était. Celui-ci n'accorda que peu d'attention au loser qui attandait tête baissée.

Greg a baissé son pantalon, a pété plusieurs fois de suite sur le visage du loser, ce qui le fit rire, et s'est assis avant commencer à pousser pour faire tomber ses crottes. À un moment, il avait tellement de mal à pousser pour faire tomber sa merde qu'il s'est appuyé sur le visage du nerd en face de lui. Le nerd essaya de ne pas penser au fait que Greg venait de se gratter les couilles et le cul, et que son visage et ses cheveux allaient conserver cette odeur : être touché par Greg était considéré comme un honneur pour les nerds, il leur était interdit de se nettoyer le visage si Greg leur avait craché, roter ou péter au visage.

Toutes ces victimes vivaient dans la peur constante que ce grand mâle blanc hétérosexuel musclé et violent ne les frappe. En plus d'un loser qui faisait ses devoirs dans toutes les matières (chacun des amis de Greg disposait d'un esclave de devoirs par matière), Greg avait aussi des porteurs de sacs qui devaient l'attendre à son cour avec ses affaires prêtes.

Le pédé des toilettes pouvait parfois tenir le téléphone de Greg pour qu'il regarde une vidéo tout en chiant ou en se masturbant un peu. Parfois le loser devait faire la lecture à Greg pour le distraire, chanter une chanson pour le détendre (une chanson glorifiant ses louanges), et si le pédé était mignon, sucer la bite de Greg pendant qu'il chiait. Quand Greg eut fini de chier, il tourna son gros cul rond et musclé vers le visage de Mark : le trou du cul était encore merdeux, et dans tous les cas Mark devait nettoyer le trou du cul de Greg avec sa langue. Mark priait pour qu'il n'arrive pas la même chose qu'à Stan il y a deux semaines.

Stan avait été "nourri" lui aussi, mais avait vraisemblablement reçu de la merde au visage au moment où Greg avait tourné son cul vers lui, et lui avait pété au visage. Stan avait alors passé le reste de la journée avec de la merde au visage, provoquant les moqueries de ces camarades. N'ayant pas le droit de se laver s'il voulait éviter d'être frappé par Greg et/ou ses amis, Stan avait choisi d'étaler la merde sur son visage et dans ses cheveux, faisant croire aux professeurs qu'il avait reçu de la terre en plein visage. Depuis Stan, les nerds redoutaient le moment du léchage de cul de Greg.

Mark a léché le contour de l'anus rapidement afin d'éviter que Greg, impatient, n'enfonce son visage dans son gros cul merdeux pour s'essuyer dessus, ce qui aurait eu pour conséquence de recouvrir le visage de Mark de merde. La rapidité du léchage de Mark fut interprété par Greg comme une marque d'enthousiasme, alors que Mark voulait être rapide pour en finir au plus vite. Puis, sur ordre de Greg, il mit sa langue dans l'anus de Greg afin de s'assurer que son trou puant soit propre.

Une fois la raie du cul de Greg nettoyée, Mark a été obligé de remercier Greg pour "son repas". Mark a regarde son "repas", et s'est retourné vers Greg en souriant et dit "Hummm Vos crottes sont tellement énormes, monsieur Greg ! Je n'en ai jamais vu des aussi grosses ! Ce sont celles d'un vrai homme, c'est sûr ! Elles ont l'air délicieuses, leur odeur est appétissante et leur couleur est brillante ! Merci beaucoup pour ce bon repas nourrissant, monsieur Greg !".

Mark n'en pensait pas un mot mais plus un pédé était faltteur et moins Greg était violent. Greg a laissé tomber des gouttes de pisse sur les cheveux de Mark et un peu dans sa bouche. Alors, Greg est sorti et ses amis sont restés surveiller les toilettes. Ils partiraient quand ils auraient la preuve que Mark avait tout mangé. En effet, Greg chiait dans une assiette en carton placé juste au-dessus de l'eau de la cuvette, afin que les nerds mangent des crottes "pures", c'est-à-dire qui ne soient pas mélangées à l'eau de la cuvette. L'assiette, une fois les crottes avalées, devait être entièrement blanche à la fin du "repas".

Un des deux amis de Greg gardait la porte des toilettes et un autre surveillait le pédé. Au dégoût suscité par l'odeur et le goût des énormes crottes de Greg s'ajoutait la pression de la rapidité, car les amis de Greg étaient impitoyables. Ils criaient aux pédés des insultes, leur donner des coups de pieds dans les fesses pour les voir souffrir ou alors leur donner le nombre de minutes qu'il leur restait. "Je n'ai pas que ça à faire de surveiller le repas d'un pédé ! Mange ton déjeuner plus vite ! Allez, cette bonne merde ne soit pas être si difficile à manger ! Pourquoi tu pleures ? Ton dieu Greg t'a donné à manger, il est généreux !" : voici le genre de phrases que les pédés entendaient pendant qu'ils avalaient les longues et épaisses crottes puantes du roi du lycée.

Bref, manger les immenses crottes de Greg était loin d'être un moment de joie pour les losers. Aucun d'eux n'avaient plus envie de manger de toute la journée, tellement les crottes étaient longues et épaisses. Cela donnait l'impression d'avoir mangé un gâteau au chocolat entier, mais avec un goût immonde. Si certains pédés vivaient ces moments comme de la torture et pleuraient, d'autres avaient compris que Greg et ses amis arrêteraient de les humilier s'ils faisaient semblant d'éprouver du plaisir à manger sa merde. En effet, Greg ne voulait pas les nourrir de ses crottes pour leur plaisir.

Ainsi, l'on vit des pédés suppliaient Greg à genoux, seul ou à plusieurs, de pouvoir manger sa merde. Cela faisait rire Greg et ses amis, mais ils ignoraient les pédés, qui au moins éviter d'être frappés par ces jeunes hommes déj�� très musclés pour leur âge. Tous les autres pédés priaient pour ne pas se retrouver dans la même université que Greg et ses amis.

FIN DE L'HISTOIRE

#Histoire fictive personnelle #Personal fictional story #Bully #Post personnel #Personal post #Toilette humaine #Farts #Pets #Shit #Turds

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