fandomhigh | So You Want to Make a TV Show- 2nd Period- Class #1

As the last student walked into the classroom, Dana greeted them all with a smile and said in a voice that was just quick enough to make you realize that you were going to have to work to keep up with her, "So you're here. You made it. If you're not supposed to be in So You Want To Make a TV Show you have one of two choices. One, you can slip quietly out the door and we'll pretend never to speak of this again while we really snicker behind your back after you leave, or two, you can pretend you're really supposed to be here and just not show up next week, which is the safe bet since I'm not paying enough attention to remember your names yet anyway.

"If you are supposed to be here, congratulations, you get to have me as a teacher. My name is Dana Whitaker, and you've probably never heard of me but if you've watched Sports Night anytime recently you know my work. I run that baby and I run it well. And you may be here because you thought that this sounded like fun, or you think television is a blow-off thing, something a monkey can do, and if you think so, I'd like you to know that this monkey would have to be some NASA-trained ape, with possible genetic engineering and maybe even some psychic abilities to be able to put up with the egos, the drama, the last minute fires that pop up around you every day during the extremely long and hard hours that you spend trapped in a building with the same people whose egos create the drama which sparks at least half of those last-minute fires. Time is valuable, which is why I will tell you right now that the fastest way to get yourself detention is to waste mine. If you show up late, that's an automatic one unless you have a good reason or a damn entertaining excuse.

"We're going to be covering a lot of different aspects of putting together shows, but this week you're gonna be winging it," Dana went on. "Forget syllabuses- syllabi? Someone get me a right answer on that- that's cheating. I want you to go ahead and start making your own show.

"This is what TV is. It's a fast-paced environment where half the time you have to figure out what you're doing as you're doing it, so this is exactly what I want you to do. What do you think goes into putting together a show? Do you think you need a script? Are you going to write one? Are you going to make someone else write one? What kind of show do you want to work on? Are you going to work with other people to get things done or are you going to take it on alone and figure that gives you the right to boss people around later? I want to see how you work, so, show me how you work, so get going."

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"Not usually," he laughed. "I'm not the actor type. What about you?"

She looked somewhat...dramatic.

"I've been known to enjoy listening to stories and attending plays, but I don't know that I'm much of an actress, myself," Adora admitted. "Besides, there's always something more important to do." Like interrupt story time for fighting.

"Yeah, like eating," Hannibal said. "Food trumps acting any day of the week. Anyone can be an actor. But being a good actor depends on the person."

Adora giggled. "Eating is a very important task to remember. My horse, Spirit, gets very cross with me when I'm late to getting his breakfast."

"Whoa, you gotta horse?" And here he'd been wanting a hermit crab or something. "Where are you from?"

"I do! He's my most trusted friend," she happily informed him, hands fidgeting with a pen. "I'm from Etheria. It's not a place on Earth."

"Yeah, that's not surprising," he said and smiled. "I don't know if I have a most trusted friend because I tend to like everyone. But, I guess on Etheria, horse's are man's best friend. Or woman's best friend. And a pretty woman at that."

"He is for me at least," she said, finding his words blush inducing. "Everyone from Earth seems to be too good to be true. What's your take on that?"

"My take on why people on Earth are awesome?" Hannibal asked. "I just think that it's such a diverse place that everyone can be here, no matter who they are, and feel comfortable."

"So is Earth free of war? Is everyone awesome, as you say?" Really, she wondered if there was anyone as awesome as He-Man here.

"Oh no," Hannibal said. "No, we've got war and bad guys and invasions and all that but it's one of those places that you're supposed to be able to live free. Sometimes it doesn't always happen though."

"Oh! That's very much like my home, then. There always seems to be someone trying to take away the freedom of others," she sighed a little. "But, it's a worthy cause to fight for."

"Are you a soldier?" Hannibal asked. "You don't look like a soldier."

"And what does a soldier look like?" Adora replied, amused that he was basing this on looks.

"Well..." He shrugged. "This country's soldiers don't look like you. And they're not as young as you usually either."

"It could be the difference between organized soldiers and working with a band of rebels," Adora allowed. "But I assure you, I was trained as a fighter since my infancy." She was amused by how easily her Force Captain persona turned on.

"Oh hey, I believe you," Hannibal said. "But why so young?"

Complicated questions deserved complicated answers. "I could tell you that I was stolen away to another world at birth by a man who raised me to lead the forces of evil in decimating a peaceful planet while I was under a spell, and when I escaped the first thing I wanted to do was fight against him and his robot army...but that's not a very simple answer, is it?"

Perhaps the weekend had gotten to her.

Hannibal blinked very slowly.

"So, uh, anything I tell you is going to sound bland in comparison to that. Robot army?"

"Not at all," she grinned. "The robots are surprisingly easy to destroy, but they just keep making more." She paused.

"I, uh, realize I have gone on a bit without even introducing myself." Her cheeks flamed red once more. "I'm Adora."

"Hannibal King," he said, smiling at the blush. "You do that very easily. Blush, I mean."

More royalty and her blushing beet red besides. Adora glanced down at her hands, willing her cheeks to cool. "I'm sorry, King Hannibal, I promise I would stop if I could."

King?

He blinked and shook his head. "No, no. King's my last name. I'm not royalty, not even close. I'm sorry if I mislead you."

"So your name is King but you are not one?" That was new. "That's certainly my misunderstanding, not yours as I can tell you would never mislead me on purpose."

"Yeah, I have two names," he explained. "Hannibal's my first name and my parents chose it for me. King's my last name or my surname and it's sort of the family name."

Re: Get to work!

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