I was perusing the Liberty's Kids section while I had nothing better to do (which, believe it or not, occurs quite often) when I noticed that the majority of the fanfiction seemed to fit into one (or more) of these categories:
A love story between James and Sarah
Henri getting angsty
Time travel
So I decided, "what the hey," and to go against the grain. So, with much adieu, MY Liberty's Kids fanfic! Like none other! Except some fanfics that are possibly written in the same style as my fanfiction, which aren't as unusual as they may seem! Onward!
This is strictly a one-shot. I can't imagine writing a sequel, but you never know. Beware the tides of March, semper ubi sub ubi, je ne suis rein a toi, and all that good stuff. The future is unknown. What did any of that have to do with that last statement? God only knows.
I do not own Liberty's Kids or any other copyrighted and/or registered stuff in this story. I own all of that unclaimed stuff, though.
Just kidding. I don't own much of the unclaimed stuff. Look, if you read about it in this story and it seems doubtful that a teenager who doesn't even have enough money to buy a Best of Queen CD would own it, then assume that I don't.
The Start! Snazzy intro music plays
"Oui! I had fun!"
A skinny brown-haired boy, tall black man, redheaded girl, blond boy, and old man with a voice suspiciously similar to that of Walter Cronkite all laughed in an eerily overdone and uproarious manner.
The lights dimmed in some places and burned with more intensity in others as the formerly close and cheery group quickly parted ways.
This was the set of Liberty's Kids, a PBS TV show that had taken America (as well as many parts in Western Europe, and for some reason that no one could fathom, Togo) by storm three years ago. They were wrapping up the taping of their fourth season and were now syndicated on many networks, such as Nickelodeon, NBC, UPN, and once again, for an unfathomable reason, the Weather Channel.
Starring in the show were Tara Wilburn (playing the part of Sarah Phillips, a loyal British subject who was scheduled to reevaluate her beliefs in season five), Tom Higgins (playing the part of James Hiller, a fire-branding, hot-headed American who ardently believed in the American cause, sometimes to a fault), Gaius McPherson (playing the part of comic relief, to put it bluntly. He was added in to gain the 5-7 year old every-kid demographic.), Wernstrom Kelly (playing the part of Benjamin Franklin, and was unknowingly scheduled to die in season seven.), and Quentin Miller.
"Yecch!," exclaimed Tom, who was reluctant to star in any "touchy-feely" scenes. He did not yet know that his character was scheduled (in season seven) in a very dramatic (or at least the writers were hoping it was, so they could therefore capture the 8-14 year-old girl demographic) love triangle with Sarah and Udney (scheduled to be introduced in season six; they were hoping to get Tom Welling to play the part, therefore securing the 15-17 year-old girl demographic, but they weren't holding their breath). He had just been given a peck on the cheek by Sarah's character, the writer's attempt to lay in some romantic tension between the two characters, therefore not shocking the audience too much with the love triangle, which would most likely turn off the 4-11 boy demographic.
One of Tom's attendants ran up to him with some bottled water. Tom grabbed the bottle and began downing it. Revoltion was quite evident on his face as he threw the bottle (still filled ¾ of the way with water) on the floor.
"Aquafina?" he screeched with disgust, "Aquafina?"
Not quite sure how to reply to this rather unclear statement, his attendant just nodded meekly.
"I only want Evian! I'm Tom Higgins, dang it, and I think I deserve some respect!"
His attendant attempted in vain to explain that he hadn't meant to disrespect him in any way.
"'Didn't mean to?' Gee, well that's too bad because you bloody well did!" Tom continued to rant for a few minutes as the rest of crew (not, of course, including the trembling attendant who began thinking that if he could just see his mother's face one more time he wouldn't mind it so much if Tom killed him) tuned him out. They had become accustomed to Tom's rants; he had them seven or eight or so times every taping.
Gaius sat down on a nearby chair and began reading the book of Marx, nodding every once and a while as if understanding the concepts that were, in fact, going right over his head. Suddenly, he paused and set the book down. He put on sunglasses and a beret and resumed reading.
Tara bent down and picked up the Aquafina bottle Tom had thrown down. She figured she could probably sell it on eBay for a good haul, and if not she could always put it in her private collection of Higgins memorabilia. Tara was president of the Tom Higgins fanclub: St. Petersburg chapter. Had she known about the love triangle that was in the works, she probably would have fainted with glee.
Wernstrom turned on the news and began taking notes as Walter Cronkite spoke as Quentin approached the show's screenwriters, director, producer, and two demographic organizers.
He did a few deep breaths, squared his shoulders, and marched up to them.
"Excuse me, I would like to have a minute of your time."
"Yes, Quentin?" The director was flipping through the proposed synopsis of season eight and didn't even attempt feigning interest.
"It's about my character…" Quentin nervously noted "Moses: not in any plot…just there" on the synopsis for season eight.
"And what would that be?" The director showed flat-out disinterest as he perused the list of possible subplots. Unhappiness of Sarah's parents' marriage was on the list. That plot might bring 30-50 year-old women to the show, a demographic they were definitely currently lacking.
"It's just that…I don't believe that Moses' character is being explored to its full extent." Quentin struggled, talking as diplomatically as he possibly could.
"Really, how interesting." The director commented. He turned to the screenwriters. "Would the "Unhappy Marriage" plot affect Sarah, or would she be totally disconnected?"
Rachel Miller and Fred Gladstone, the screenwriters, turned to each other with obviously unprepared looks.
"Um," Fred said tentatively, "we were going to talk to the demographic organizers about that…"
"Well then talk to them! And next time when I ask for a complete plot synopsis, I want a complete plot synopsis! Don't pester me with half-baked plots!" The director threw the packet of stapled papers at Rachel and Fred, who quickly ran away.
The director began walking towards the door when Quentin nervously tapped him on the shoulder.
"What?" he snarled.
"I never finished discussing my character." He explained, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt. He had heard stories about that director.
The director sighed, clearly having better things to do than to listen to another nobody actor complaining that he gets no respect. "Okay, just get it over with."
That was not very reassuring. But Quentin plowed on ahead anyway.
"My character, although appearing in every episode, rarely actually has a plot or even a subplot revolving or involving him. I know I'm not the main character, but even the Simpsons had a plot about the comic book guy."
The director snorted. "The Simpsons has had a plot about every character short of that Bumblebee guy. Your point?"
"Would it be so hard to just have a plot about Moses? He's very underdeveloped."
"What are you talking about? We had that plot about your brother."
"You trashed that idea! Remember? Something about demographics!" Quentin reminded the director, who was now putting on his hat and coat.
"Oh yeah, " the director paused, "Well, anyway, the answer is no. You know a foolproof method for knowing when a show is about to go down the drains? Episodes begin centering around minor characters. That's not going to happen to Liberty's Kids. Besides, if we did manage to make a plot about your character, it would be extremely historically incorrect. We're already flirting with that just by casting you. Really, how many black printers were there in the 18th century?"
"Historically correct?" Quentin spat out. He was tired of this. Every year he talked to the director and every year he was shot down with flimsy excuses. Well not anymore! "Tell me, what is so historically correct about barely anyone having British accents? John Adams sounds like Billy Crystal, for God's sake! Paul Revere sounded like Sylvester Stallone! And Wernstrom over here," Quentin gestured towards Wernstrom, who was watching S.O.S. Planet," sounds like Walter Cronkite!"
"So?" the director asked and glanced at the clock. How would he have to wait before just walking away was no longer rude?
"'So?' There's more than that! There's the whole issue of dental hygiene. Tom, Gaius, and Tara all have perfect teeth! Back in the 18th century, rinsing was considered cutting edge!"
"Are you proposing we rot their teeth?"
"I'm just pointing out how hypocritical you're being."
"Yeah, I do that a lot." The director replied and strode away, leaving Quentin there seething. Just then an idea hit him.
The next day the regular cast of Liberty's Kids was scheduled for a series of publicity shots followed by a brief press conference. America (with the exception of the 30-60 men demographic, which they were working on) was enamored with the strong willed Sarah, hot-headed and moral-bending James, and Henri, who only 5 of the American population found too much of a Jughead rip off.
As Tara, Tom, Gaius, and Wernstrom were lead through the crowd, they were all met in different ways by the adoring masses.
Much of the slew of fans had, after the incident following season two (in which Tara as well as two bodyguards had to be hospitalized), learned that throwing lockets at Tara was not the best idea. But a few lockets could be seen flying through the air and were quickly avoided by all of the cast and crew.
Tom, on the other hand, attracted compliments, screams, and several proposals of marriage from an increasingly large bevy of pubescent girls. More than a little of the girls fainted. Tom was, after all, known in the bodyguard community as the Beatles rolled into one minus the wit and musical talent. Or, as some people might say, Elvis. (A/N: Don't hate me! I had to put that slam in! I could not resist it. I do not hate Elvis! The insult was just so easy!)
Gaius was the favorite of most members of the press and the vast majority of Liberty's Kids fans. The problem was that he attracted the day-to-day fans, not the serious ones that buy "INSERT CELEBRITY NAME HERE Waffle Iron" and other such merchandise. So while he was cheered on, it was not overwhelming.
Wernstrom went unnoticed.
The photo shoot went without a hitch. The three stars were good at that sort of thing and Wernstrom…well…he could take directions.
The following press conference was a success.
"So Tara," Rasha Rolique (her press name only, obviously) from Seventeen asked, "are the rumors true that there might be a little bit more between you and Tom in the upcoming season?"
Tara gave a bewitching smile and replied, in true bubble gum fashion, "They just might!" She then grabbed Tom's arm and giggled much to the delight of Rasha Rolique and the Seventeen photographer. Tom quickly shook her arm off.
"Gaius, you have been a very vocal libertarian. How do you feel about the libertarian senator Matthew Greenspan retiring?"
"Oh please. I'm not a libertarian anymore! I was young back then! Now I'm a communist." Gauis' statement caused quite a few "oooh's" and "aaah's" among the press, who all thought this change in political views was big news.
The questions directed at the three droned on and on, many of which were just rephrasing the above questions. All were met with either sickeningly charming or blowhard-pretentious answers.
Wernstrom once again went unnoticed, until the last five minutes, when a reporter for another teen magazine approached him. Wernstrom's heart fluttered as she raised her tape recorder. Finally someone cared about his opinion!
"Wernstrom," she began, "are the rumors true that in the next season there will be much more between Tara and Tom's characters?"
Wernstrom's face fell.
"They just may be." He mumbled.
After the press conference ended, thousands of happy and breathless fans made their way home, hundreds of reporters mapped out articles in their heads as they entered various vehicles, three tired actors all entered a limo, tens of bodyguards fought off the teeming masses, one actor thought disappointedly about his one question, and one actor was in his apartment, glaring at the silent phone.
Quentin hadn't gone to the press conference. It had been a statement, the beginning of an ultimatum.
No one had noticed.
The day of the next taping Quentin walked right up to the director.
"You give me a plot or I walk." He announced.
"One tall black," the director continued his conversation with his assistant before turning to Quentin. "What?"
"You heard me. I need a plot or else I walk."
"Listen, you're not exactly in the bargaining situation here. You missed a press conference and a photo shoot yesterday and not one member of the press even noticed." The director pointed out.
"You'll have a hard time explaining too the black demographic why you mysteriously cut the sole black member of the cast out of the show." Quentin said.
The director's mouth went slack. Quentin was right. The last thing he needed was to cut that fourth of the viewing audience out. "Okay," he conceded, "we'll give you a plot soon."
Quentin's fatal mistake was accepting that vague timeframe. But he did.
The following years flew by quickly for the cast and crew of Liberty's Kids. Seasons were made, DVD collections were made, merchandise was made, and, above all, money was made.
Every day Quentin would go up to the director.
"Have you got my plot yet?"
"Soon, Quentin, soon." The director would reply. Or perhaps, "We're working on it," or maybe, "We need to check it with the demographic organizers."
This lasted three years. Finally Quentin marched up the director. "Give me a plot next season or I walk."
The next day when Quentin asked, "Have you got my plot yet?" the director answered, "It's written."
After all, the director didn't want anything to interfere with his most successful show ever. It was the most successful children's show in PBS history. It blew Arthur and Sesame Street away. PBS had so much money pouring in that there was no need for money drives anymore. The cast of Liberty's Kids was confident they would be employed for at least five more years.
Which was why it such a shock when it happened.
The director stared at Gretchen Hatfield and Oliver Wilkenson.
"Excuse me?" his tongue stumbled across the words while his brain was in a catatonic shock.
"We're not renewing Liberty's Kids." Gretchen repeated.
"But why?," the director asked, "this show had made PBS make more money than ABC and FOX combined!"
"Your statistics aren't quite accurate, though they aren't far off." Gretchen commented.
"Even so," Oliver plowed on, "We think if you continue this series the public may begin to lose interest."
"Furthermore, historians are beginning to complain that the war should have ended at least four years ago." Gretchen added.
"And don't even get them started on the teeth and accents!"
"We'll give you one more season, Fred. One more season to wrap up the plots. You may go now." Oliver gestured to the door.
Fred slowly stood up and walked numbly to the door.
"Oh, and Fred?"
Fred turned to face Gretchen.
"Do see if you can add more of that charming Udney character. Tom Welling plays him so well."
Fred just gaped at Gretchen in disbelief.
Two days later Fred called the cast and crew of Liberty's Kids together to discuss the major plot changes in season eight.
"What is it, Fred?" Tom asked languidly, slowly sipping some Evian.
If it had been any other day the director would have reminded Tom not to call him Fred. Now he just looked at the group sadly.
"I have some news."
"Well, we guessed that. Otherwise you wouldn't have called us here." Tom took another languid sip from his Evian. Tom's sips were the especially annoying kind, the kind that was so drawn out and "slurpy" that it made one's flesh crawl.
The director didn't even notice his fingernails instinctively burrowing into his palms as he grimly scanned the group.
"I had a meeting with Ms. Hatfield and Mr. Wilkenson yesterday." The director announced.
The group looked at him expectantly.
The director paused.
The group leaned forward in anticipation.
The director continued to pause.
"Is that it?" Gaius asked. He, after all, had better things to do. He was hoping to begin a new political party—the FLAVIAMARCUMAMAT party—and really didn't like to be trifled with little news such as meetings when he had much bigger things to think about.
"No," the director replied curtly, "that is not it." He paused once again.
He continued to pause some more.
Tara raised her hand.
"What is then?" she asked.
"Yeah," Tom interjected, "makes with then news!"
"Stop rushing me, Tom!" the director spat out.
"Don't yell at Tom! He's a god!" Tara exclaimed in retaliation.
"Yeah, Bacchus maybe." Gaius chortled and was met with scattered laughter from those crewmembers that actually understood the insult.
"Listen," Patty Sherman, the best boy grip said, "this has all been very interesting, but I do have work to do so if we could just get on with it…that would be great."
"Yeah," the screenwriters added, "We have to draw up plot lines for season 11!"
"There isn't going to be a season 11." The director announced.
"Huh?"
"We've been discontinued."
"What?"
"This an outrage!"
"How could they?"
"We saved this company!"
"They can't do this! FLAVIAMARCUMAMAT was just getting off to a start! How am I supposed to finance it? They're doing this to block my party's success! They're discriminating against my political beliefs!"
All of these protests molded into one voice, loud and unclear. Pandemonium broke out. Cell phones were brought out, screams were heard, a few people broke out into tears, arguments broke out, protest songs were sung…
The following day all of the plot adjustments were made. Udney's character would be returning much to the delight of Ms. Hatfield. Benjamin Franklin's disease was made terminal. The war was finally going to end. James and Sarah would be going on an emotional roller coaster. Henri would be immersed in French culture and therefore return to his home. The demographics weren't quite perfect, but the organizers assured the director it would be fine because no one would want to miss the last season!
As the cast filed out of the large hall the following day after learning the major plot changes, the director called to Quentin.
"Oh, and Quentin, we had to cut your plot out! Sorry!"
So it goes.
One year later, 89 of America was sitting in front of their televisions. Approximately 7/8 of that 89 was at a Liberty's Kids Series Finale Party of some sort. Quentin had, in fact, received invitations to hundreds. He wasn't a particularly popular character (as could be seen by perusing ) but he was a character all the same. He ended up going to the official party.
It was okay. Quentin had plenty of friends on the set, but it was all just a reminder of his failure. He had never gotten a single plot on the show.
It was pathetic.
So Quentin was feeling pretty down in the dumps as he was in the corner sipping punch. It had a horrid red taste that was not recognizable to any fruit. But he hadn't really felt like getting alcohol or Perrier because that would mean crossing the Tom-cult and FLAVIAMARCUMAMAT recruiters, so he just stuck with the red liquid.
"Excuse me, you are Quentin Miller, aren't you?"
Quentin turned around to see a stout man and a tall man both in finely tailored suits.
"Yes…" Quentin eyed the two men in curiosity.
"We have a proposition for you." The tall man said.
The stout man explained. "We've been watching Liberty's Kids for some time and have always admired your acting skills."
"And that's saying something considering the fact that you never got a plot." The tall man added.
"We've come up with an idea for a sit-com and were wondering if you would be interested in the main role."
"You'll have to try out, of course, but as long as you like the part it's pretty much in the bag."
"So, would you be interested?"
"Yes! Uh, I mean, I may be." Quentin answered.
"Good. Here's the script for the pilot as well as the main premise." The tall man handed him a stack of papers.
"And here's our business card." The stout man handed him a small card.
"We look forward to seeing you."
As they left, Quentin took a long gulp of his punch, for the first time totally unaware of its obscene taste. Why should he be aware? He was going to get a plot! That's all that mattered.
Quentin's new TV show, which was titled 'Buy One, Get One Free,' was a rocking success. The show centered on Jack (Quentin), an employee at a retail store. Other characters included:
Joe Walsh, Quentin's gruff boss with a heart of gold
Sarah McGrady, owner of a book store across the street and giver of advice
Debra Ellis, Jack's love interest
Richard Barkley, Jack's friend/coworker
Tina Lucas, Jack's nemesis/coworker
Tim Collins, Jack's best friend
Andrew Banks, Jack's mailman who takes on a new persona daily
Wolfgang Mannerly, Jack's neighbor who concocts crazy get-rich-quick schemes
The show followed the old tried and true methods, yet what it lacked in originality it made up for in the wonderful physical comedy of the cast. Musical segments were not uncommon because the cast boasted enormous musical talent as well as the skilled physical acting skills.
'Buy One, Get One Free' lasted a total of 11 years, after which the cast and crew decided to discontinue it in order to avoid jumping the shark. The long awaited DVD collection was released 5 years later. Millions were sold.
By this time Tara Wilburn, Gaius McPherson, and Tom Higgins were in their early thirties and had all gone on to other things since the discontinuation of their series. Tara had quit the Tom Higgins fanclub and become and Bhuddist. Gaius quit FLAVIAMARCUMAMAT, calling it "infantile" and "one of the errors of youth" (Entertainment Weekly, 67). He founded a new political party named MARCUSFLAVIAMNONAMAT, which soon rose to a semi-respected place in the political world of third parties. Tom starred on the WB drama 'Tom versus Jim' in which he played Tom, the best friend of the main character (Hugh). Hugh was in a constant moral struggle between society and his own heart, particularly clear in his relationship and Jim, who was a Moslem boy regularly discriminated in the local high school. Tom represented the evils of society, which Tom (the actor this time) was never aware of.
Wernstrom died shortly thereafter. The four (in addition to many others, of course) attended the funeral. The biggest surprise to those attending was the fact that Walter Cronkite made an appearance, calling Wernstrom his "biggest, diehard fan." Wernstrom had lived his entire life waiting for the day when he would finally meet Walter Cronkite. He finally met him at his funeral. It was ironic.
As Quentin stepped in his limousine he idly wondered, "I wonder what section of demography Wernstrom's televised funeral would appeal to."
The End
Finished. It's twelve pages on word. Wow.
I'm not quite sure what happened while I was writing. It started out geared towards Liberty's Kids but eventually shifted towards a much more satiric and philosophic freestyle fanfic. Oh,well. I was considering not posting it, but I guess I will. I do think some parts of it are amusing (my personal favorite: demographic organizers) even though it is much more serious than I had planned.