Television Romance

Rumors to Rest

Sam had to shout over the chatter in the bullpen.

"Ok. I need everyone to avoid freaking out. Greg's going to say something now," he told them, and silence smothered the crowd. Greg placed himself so he was centered in between the four walls.

"I know many of you have heard rumors that five people are getting fired from the show," he began, "That's not true. That's not true, but the network has cut some of our funding because the ratings for the last few seasons have been down."

"What does that mean?" Michael asked.

"We have less money."

"So people are getting fired," someone else asserted, confused.

"No. No, we're just hiring fewer interns. You people will have to get your own coffee," Greg said. His braided grey ponytail was as neat as ever and his voice as nasal.

"Speech!" someone else called.

"That was the speech," Greg said, looking exasperated as usual. Years of working with overeager comedians would do that to anyone. Hell hath no fury as a woman scorned, and no annoyance like a try-hard comedian.

"Does anyone have any questions? Does anyone have any questions about this?" Greg asked.

"If the ratings are down, shouldn't they give us more money to fix it?" Reese asked.

"Excellent point. Write a letter to the executives. Anyone else?" No one moved.

"Alright. Good work this season. Those of you who don't quit I'll see in September." That was the genuine but curt praise the cast and crew had come to expect from him. He walked away.

Sam took his place in the middle of the bullpen and watched Greg's braid swing slightly behind him until he was out of earshot.

"No setting things on fire. Try not to break too much. That includes yourselves. We don't have money for a lawsuit." He held out an index finger threateningly. No one said anything. No one moved a muscle.

"Alright, have fun." It was like he had shot off a gun at a race. The writers all rushed toward Table in a humming swarm. The party had begun.

~~~~~

Bill and Juliet had done a terrible job decorating. They had lazily blown up some balloons on Thursday night and hid them in a supply closet until the party, but they were already leaking and now bounced around the floor like shrunken heads. There had been no time to put up streamers or anything without attracting too much attention, so the only other indication that the party had been planned was a banner that read "Happy Birthday!" It didn't make much sense, but it was the only decoration that Bill could find at the office supply store. Besides, it made Vian laugh so hard that it was far better than a more accurate celebratory phrase. No one paid much attention to the decor anyhow. They were far more focused on Nat's excellent food, and the robust collection of drinks to be had.

"You know an intern just asked me if I was a stripper," Juliet confided to her usual audience of three. Jerry and Vian both held red solo cups. Bill had a green-bottled beer. Juliet had a blue solo cup which she held with both hands. It was filled to the brim with tequila.

"And what did you say?" Vian asked too quickly. Everyone stared at her.

"No! I've never done... that. Y'all know that, don't you?" Juliet said. Everyone stared at Juliet.

"Wait-" Juliet paused and looked around the room. Three faces stared back at her, varying levels of sheepish remorse and anticipation.

"You guys actually thought I was a stripper?"

"I didn't!" Vian protested, an utter lie. Maybe she would've gotten away with it if Bill and Jerry hadn't shot her knowing looks.

"Okay, well, only a little." Vian braced for a reaction and watched as Juliet's disbelief made way for a grand grin.

"I can't believe you thought I was a stripper."

"You did do a whole routine up there," Bill said.

"I did one thing. That was not remotely stripper-y."

"Anything involving a pole is automatically stripper-y," Jerry said.

"I did gymnastics for a while in college. You don't think I would tell you if I was?" She turned to face the room behind her.

"Raise your hand if you think I'm a stripper." A couple of hands went up.

"Or that I was a stripper at some point," Juliet amended. Several more hands shot up. She turned back, still grinning.

"Amazing."

"You're happy about this?" Bill asked.

"Obviously. I'd make a great stripper."

"What would your stripper name be?" Vian asked, but Jerry had the answer before Juliet could respond.

"Jules."

"My stripper name is supposed to be different." She rolled her eyes.

"But that's the answer. Julez. With a 'z,'" Jerry clarified and no one could argue with that.