#30rock

the infamous “how do you do, fellow kids?” line delivered by Steve Buscemi

te BDSM-couple (Jenna and Paul) discover that their new kink is “normaling” (doing stuff normal couples do, like going on Costco-runs, and “going to Bed, Bath & Beyond together in public…in front of everyone!”) and later going on agreed-upon sexual walkabouts

the main character (Liz) terrorizing subway passengers with a nasty cough and leaving on her old lady hair, makeup, and costume from work

the secondary billionaire character (Jack) trying to start a private police force with a $5 million starting-salary (because how are the police supposed to be trusted to protect the wealthy unless they’re wealthy too? Hmm?) and running for mayor to “protect” New York’s upper-upperclass all while in the same tuxedo for days after getting mugged (with an Eddie Bauer pocketknife, no less)

that culminates in its final scene to a brilliant Batman/Dark Knight homage/parody (with Jack as Batman and Liz as the Joker, smeared lipstick and all)

Chapter Two: The Building That Never Sleeps

Thirty Rockefeller Plaza was less a building and more a self-contained ecosystem. A vertical city. A maze of egos, caffeine addictions, and too many people pretending they didn’t just cry in the elevator.

It housed the weather. The news. Comedy, drama, and the nation’s most unpredictable cafeteria. It was also, somehow, home to an ice skating rink, a shoe repair kiosk, and more than a few emotional breakdowns disguised as smoke breaks.

Everyone in the building was either a character, playing one, or dating someone who was.

Dr. Charlotte DuBois worked on the 2nd floor at One Medical. Sharp, deeply caffeinated, and over everyone’s nonsense, she saw patients from every floor, from high-powered news anchors to unpaid interns with self-diagnosed stress tumors.

She was Marvin’s best friend, though she’d never say it that way. She called herself his “designated truth dispenser.” She also called him once a week with notes like: “Your blood pressure is up. You gotta get your shit together. Emotionally and physically.”

Charlotte was married to Cordelia, which meant their household contained both a medical degree and a slow cooker perpetually full of something bubbling a little too much..

They had eloped six years ago and hadn’t stopped bickering since.

Cordelia worked down in the NBCUniversal cafeteria, also known as The Pit. She’d taken the job “for the benefits” but stayed for the gossip. She saw everything. And she told no one, except Charlotte, usually over boxed wine.

Cordelia was Whizzer’s best friend, roommate during the roughest years, and currently the only reason he ate three meals. She considered herself his part-time therapist, unpaid assistant, and emergency contact. She never asked for thanks, just that he stop sleeping with people who she has to pretend not to recognize as she rang up their caesar salad.

Both women kept an eye on their respective boys. Not in a meddling way. Just… strategic surveillance.

The thing about 30 Rock is that no one ever really leaves. Not for more than 8 hours, and that’s lucky.

Whizzer, halfway through a costume fitting, ducked out early to “find better lighting.”

Marvin, headed to pick up a second coffee, chose a different route than usual to avoid an intern who thought the way he described barometric pressure was “so hot.”

They passed each other on the stairs. Whizzer didn’t notice. Marvin did. He always noticed.

Charlotte and Cordelia passed each other in the lobby an hour later.

“Your boy’s spiraling again,” Cordelia muttered, sipping a questionable smoothie.

“And yours is repressing,” Charlotte replied. “We really know how to pick them.”

—

By noon, Marvin sat alone with a Cobb salad and his laptop, reviewing weekend temperature models.

By 12:01, Whizzer strolled in like the room owed him something.

They didn’t speak. But they sat two tables apart.

Cordelia saw them from behind the counter. Texted Charlotte.

—

Cordelia: your weather guy & my manwhore are in the same room

Charlotte: thunder’s coming

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