One Shot

[hazardinaction.livejournal.com]

Title: Accepted
Author: hazardinaction
Rating: PG
Character: Ryan centric
Summary: Ryan's first taping of Whose Line UK. 

A young, lanky man stood trembling by himself in the bathroom. He was standing in front of a cracked mirror that was smeared with god knows what and staring at his face, scrutinising every detail. Was his nose too big? Did his hair look strange, he still wasn’t sure about the mullet?

 

A pair of nervous hazel eyes looked back at him and he tried to smile, his lips twisting awkwardly at the corners in a half grimace. Great, he was supposed to be a comedian and yet he couldn’t even smile. He was so going to bomb today; he could feel it in his bones.  

 

There was no way all these foreigners were going to find him funny; they wouldn’t understand his sense of humour. He could just imagine the scenario where he made a joke and was met with complete silence in the middle of the stage as the audience stared back at him blankly. That would be his worst nightmare. Yes, he’d messed up before at Second City but that had been laughed off, he had been in his homeland, all these people were strangers and expected a professional improviser who made no mistakes.

 

Smoothing down his tie and brushing imaginary dirt off his shirt, the man turned, inspected himself one last time and headed for the bathroom door. Just as he was about to lean forward and turn the handle the door burst open and he was forced to stumble backwards to avoid being hit.

 

Through the opening barrelled a short, broad-shouldered man with shiny black hair and dark, intense brown eyes. He let out a surprised yelp as he nearly crashed into the other man and had to back-pedal in order to avoid a collision.

 

“Ryan! There you are. Dan’s been looking all over for you. He’s getting tetchy because he wants the taping to get going by ten.” The smaller man regained his composure and spoke rapidly.

“Oh, damn, sorry, Tony. I got distracted,” Ryan gulped, his heart skipping a beat at the thought of upsetting his new boss.

“S’ok, nice to know we have a bit of a rebel on our hands,” Tony Slattery grinned conspiratorially and nudged the new member of his team teasingly. This evoked a fearful expression from the tall American.

“Oh no! No! I wasn’t trying to cause trouble,” Ryan looked anxious at the thought of being branded a trouble-maker like in his school days. He wanted to make a good expression.

“Oh, I know how you Yanks can be; we’ll just have to see how well your reckless streak holds out on stage, eh?” Tony offered a sly grin, a mischievous twinkle in his eye before turning on his heel and heading in the direction of the studio, “See you there, Rebel.”

 

Ryan Stiles was left gob-smacked, not only was he petrified of his first performance in front of British audience as an American comedian but he’d now just been obviously challenged by one of the other performers. Could his first day on the show Whose Line is it Anyway get any worse?

 

Hurrying after the disappearing figure of Tony Slattery, Ryan dodged down the corridor passed several crew members and opened the door that led to the studio. Once inside he faltered mid-step and felt his heart hammer violently against his chest threatening to burst straight through.

 

“Ryan, over here,” Dan Patterson, the controlling, British perfectionist director beckoned him to where a small group had gathered. As he approached he saw Tony already present along with the English improve legend, John Sessions and the very tiny Sandi Toksvig. All three turned and gave him varying expressions of greeting. Sessions looked plain irritated with his lateness, Sandi looked vaguely sympathetic whilst Tony just had a slightly ominous look about him. 

“Right, the audience are taking their seats, guys, so this is it. I want it to go well as we are on a tight schedule. Remember, you can swear and you can insult people but just don’t do anything we’d have to ask rights permission for. Got it?” Dan looked at each of them in turn, his gaze finally falling on the new performer. Ryan shifted uncomfortably beneath his eyes and wished he would look away. “Ryan?”

“Yes?” Ryan was appalled to hear his voice come out as a high pitched squeak.

“Good luck,” the British man gave him an encouraging smile and a pat on the back, “Let’s roll.”

 

Ryan tried desperately not to fiddle in his seat and told himself over and over again to calm down before the cameras were switched on. You need this job! Stop being a coward about it and just have fun. Remember, if you have fun so will the audience. Put on the mask, be someone else for the next hour. You can be funny; you can make these people laugh. With these thoughts in mind Ryan found himself slipping into his comfort zone, the place where he knew he was safe no matter how much of a fool he made of himself. He could do this.

 

A smile graced his handsome features as he was introduced by the host Clive Anderson and he was applauded by the audience. Yes, they did look quite intimidating in all the stage lighting but it was no different to the Second City, they were just people who wanted to laugh.

 

He survived the first game and moved onto the next with newfound confidence. Maybe, if he just kept this smile plastered on his face and stuck to the basics of improvisational comedy he could do the entire taping without messing up. They got to a game called Tap and Ryan threw himself into it with vigour. He had to admit some of his actions and words were slightly crude but he got laughs and that’s what fuelled his mind. This audience did like him.

 

Gradually his confidence increased even more until he reached the game Expert which would just involve him and Tony. As they sat on the stools he couldn’t help feel the small monster of fear rising in the pit of his stomach again. He could see Tony’s expression and knew this scene would prove to be his most challenging yet. Well, brace yourself then, you need to show him and everyone else that you can make it here and you’re good, really good.

 

Ryan dived right into the scene and parried every single blow that his fellow improviser threw at him even the transsexual jibe. Words flowed out of the American’s mouth without him even needing to think about it, it was as if he really was an expert on the metamorphosis of the frog. He got more laughs out of his Mexican mating dance and was on a complete high at the end of the skit despite the last challenge Tony delivered him.

 

A frog giving birth to spawn wasn’t something he could claim to have seen in the past but hey, he was here to improvise so that was what he would do. Tony leaning him back was unexpected but he took it in his stride and the game finished shortly after.

 

As the two made their way back to their seats Tony shot Ryan an approving look and the American felt a surge of pride. He was accepted, he’d passed the test with flying colours and now he was part of the gang. And it felt good.