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asimaiyatTitle: "Master Class"
Fandom: Political RPF/Pundits RPF
Pairings and Characters: sort of Rahm/Keith, Rachel Maddow, Jon Stewart, Stephen Colbert, Conan O'Brian, Anderson Cooper
Summary: Rahm offers the pundits a master class on memorable language.
AN: Okay, this is kind of an in-joke thing. collegeanna19 at the rahmbamarama community on LJ invented the idea of the Rahm Emmanuel Colorful Metaphor Academy, or RECMA, where Rahm will teach you how to master the art of cursing. And I sort of ran with that...
Overused = Catchphrase.
Rahmm stood back for a moment to let the words sink in before returning to the chalkboard to draw an exaggerated strike through the "equals" sign. He let the chalk screech for effect, enjoying the groans he heard behind his back. Then, because being a bitch is something that shouldn't be done half-assed, he drew a little smiley face at the end of the equation. Rahm turned to face the class, hands on hips. "And that means you, Mr. Olbermann. Any fucking questions?"
Keith raised his hand so high he might have fallen out of his chair.
Rahm sighed. "Yes, Mr. Olbermann?"
"Do you really think that's fair, sir? I know I follow a formula, but I think my use of repetition is part of what gives my Special Comments their unique character and quotability."
"Whiny sonuvabitch, aren't you? Listen, there's nothing wrong with the 'you, sir' bit. I'm just saying you could change it up once in a while, try to keep the network censors on their toes a little. Maybe the occasional 'you, assmuncher' or 'you, cumbucket.'"
Rachel smirked. "It's okay, Keith. Mr. Emmanuel's just jealous because he wants to be the only one you call 'sir.'"
In the back of the room, Jon and Stephen guffawed and shot each other knowing looks. Anderson blushed, concentrating very hard on his notes, and Conan slapped Rachel high-five under her desk. Rahm had to use his most intimidating stare to restore order to the classroom.
"Ms. Maddow, that kind of bullshit will not be tolerated. I will fucking end you, are we clear on that? Moving on, please turn to page 435 in your books, Appropriate Uses of Barnyard Imagery."
Rahm slipped one of the two short, stubby pieces of chalk into his back pocket, confident that with all the laughing nobody had heard it break in his hand. That bitch was just trying to bust his balls, he told himself as he sketched the bare bones of a sentence diagram on the board. It didn't mean anything that she'd had a lucky guess.
Fandom: Political RPF/Pundits RPF
Pairings and Characters: sort of Rahm/Keith, Rachel Maddow, Jon Stewart, Stephen Colbert, Conan O'Brian, Anderson Cooper
Summary: Rahm offers the pundits a master class on memorable language.
AN: Okay, this is kind of an in-joke thing. collegeanna19 at the rahmbamarama community on LJ invented the idea of the Rahm Emmanuel Colorful Metaphor Academy, or RECMA, where Rahm will teach you how to master the art of cursing. And I sort of ran with that...
Overused = Catchphrase.
Rahmm stood back for a moment to let the words sink in before returning to the chalkboard to draw an exaggerated strike through the "equals" sign. He let the chalk screech for effect, enjoying the groans he heard behind his back. Then, because being a bitch is something that shouldn't be done half-assed, he drew a little smiley face at the end of the equation. Rahm turned to face the class, hands on hips. "And that means you, Mr. Olbermann. Any fucking questions?"
Keith raised his hand so high he might have fallen out of his chair.
Rahm sighed. "Yes, Mr. Olbermann?"
"Do you really think that's fair, sir? I know I follow a formula, but I think my use of repetition is part of what gives my Special Comments their unique character and quotability."
"Whiny sonuvabitch, aren't you? Listen, there's nothing wrong with the 'you, sir' bit. I'm just saying you could change it up once in a while, try to keep the network censors on their toes a little. Maybe the occasional 'you, assmuncher' or 'you, cumbucket.'"
Rachel smirked. "It's okay, Keith. Mr. Emmanuel's just jealous because he wants to be the only one you call 'sir.'"
In the back of the room, Jon and Stephen guffawed and shot each other knowing looks. Anderson blushed, concentrating very hard on his notes, and Conan slapped Rachel high-five under her desk. Rahm had to use his most intimidating stare to restore order to the classroom.
"Ms. Maddow, that kind of bullshit will not be tolerated. I will fucking end you, are we clear on that? Moving on, please turn to page 435 in your books, Appropriate Uses of Barnyard Imagery."
Rahm slipped one of the two short, stubby pieces of chalk into his back pocket, confident that with all the laughing nobody had heard it break in his hand. That bitch was just trying to bust his balls, he told himself as he sketched the bare bones of a sentence diagram on the board. It didn't mean anything that she'd had a lucky guess.