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zendozebra · 6 years

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All the Time in the World Chapter 7

He's gonna have to kick Yamada's ass next time he sees him. Sure, come in to Majima's office unannounced, that's fine. Talk non-stop for 30 minutes while Majima desperately tries to ignore him, that's alright. Spill your stupid iced coffee thing all over the notes Majima made for today's lecture, then run away before you can be forced to clean up your goddamn mess, that's fucked up. Now he has no notes, no plan, no lecture, and most of his students are staring at him, waiting for him to begin today's lesson. He doesn't even remember what today's lecture was supposed to be about. Now what is he supposed to do? Sure he could just use time stop to get a new set of notes together, that would be easy. It would be trivial. But Majima really doesn't want to. Should he just make it up as he goes along? Yeah, that sounds good. He could probably bullshit his way through just one lecture, or at the very least 45 minutes. Alright, let's get started. He stood at the front of the room, already in full costume. The cloak ended up being more of a poncho than a cloak, but the mask was right, so he gave it a pass. Wasn't wearing that part right now, though, it was laying on his desk. The boots Nezu recommended actually fit pretty well, so that's a plus.

"Okay, about 200 years ago, give or take a handful of decades, quirks happened. Alright? We got that, that's been covered in your other schools. Quirks have been a thing for…" Oh god, what year did quirks start? What year was it now? "… Quite some time now. The hero society was created out of a necessity to stop everyone with a quirk from going full asshole because someone forgot to put ketchup on their omurice." They were looking at him weird. This plan is falling apart faster than he'd thought it would. "Okay, I am obviously oversimplifying this. Basically, the laws that prevented the public use of quirks were implemented, but that clearly wouldn't stop anyone with even a lick of determination."

"So, what do you do? Obviously, ya got to fight fire with fire, so they created the original hero registration procedures. Only the brightest beacons were allowed to even take the tests, and even fewer passed them. Those that failed but still received a high enough score would eventually go on to become some of the first sidekicks. From there, they would follow in the footsteps of the hero they were assigned to, and would sooner or later become a hero themselves. Those heroes would then get sidekicks themselves, and would perpetuate the cycle."

"Back to the topic of villains, though. Early on, it was realized that there were three types of villains. Sure, these would often bleed over into each other, and you would rarely find a villain that would be a pure form of just one aspect, but I happen to have been a witness to a pure form of each. Now, all of the shit I'm about to tell you guys has been struck from the history books, and for a good reason. I don't expect you to understand that reason, but the fall of the non-quirked society was… Ugly. Riots, mobs, protests, both violent and non-violent. Fuck, there was even a small war over in the states."

"Alright. The three core principles of villainy are as follows: Trauma, Career, and Power. The three examples for these principles are The Echoed Mind, All or Nothing, and All for One. Uh, Midoriya, you doin' okay?" The hell is up with the kid, he jumped up in his seat at that last name. Sure, All for One wasn't the best name, but if ya knew what his quirk was, he was down right terrifying. He should probably not tell the students just what ol' All for One used to be capable of, regardless of the fact that the man's been dead for quite some time now.

"I'm fine, Majima-sensei. Just wasn't expecting hear names quite like those." Izuku explained, which made sense. Codenames back in the day could be weird. Hell, Majima's original codename wasn't all that great, he was just copying the naming convention that Akira and Jin were using. Did Aimi ever give herself a name before everything went tits up? He knew she eventually took Jin's name when everything was said and done, but he never kept any tabs on her after he ran.

"Alright then. Now, as I was saying, each of these villains were a rare example of the pure embodiment of one of these Echoed Mind was trauma. Their true name was Fujita Jin, and they-"

"Majima-sensei!" Holy shit, Ashido is actually raising her hand in his class to ask a question. He guessed that Izuku's study session with her yesterday did more for her confidence than he'd thought it would. Okay, act natural, just acknowledge her question.

"Yes, Ashido, do you have a question?" Nailed it.

"Is this the same Jin that you're always talking about?" Goddamnit, at least she's asking questions. And seeing how old he was, that's technically a legitimate question. Judging by the look on the faces of Kaminari and Ojiro, she wasn't the only one wondering about that.

"No, my old friend Jin and Fujita Jin were not the same person, but that was a good question regardless." Majima Kokiri, helping boost student morale. Didn't think that would ever be a thing in his life. "Either way, Fujita started as a young child with an immensely powerful telepathy quirk. When used, it would implant a single thought in the victims mind that would echo on an endless loop. This thought would grow more powerful as time would pass, until it would completely consume the victims entire thought process. It would drive them to madness, and depending on what the implanted thought was, they would become more frantic and aggressive in an attempt to remove the thought. Fujita would implant within his victims incredibly violent urges and hostile intentions, which would drive them to commit increasingly violent crimes as they tried to remove the horrors he would give to them."

"No one was able to connect these strings of random crimes and murders until Fujita was already an adult, but once they realized that it was a quirk user that was responsible, they started to do some digging. And boy, the shit they found was like something from the most terrifying Stephen King novel." Yep, damn this generation, not knowing all the good horror writers. Wait, Sero looks pretty excited. He knew about King? There's a few conversations to be had there, if that's the case. "When they looked through the registry, which was very limited at the time, they managed to narrow it down and they eventually got themselves some information, none of which looked good. In and out of orphanages and foster homes, reports that he had been abused both physically and sexually, multiple hospital visits. It was a mess. The boy had been broken, unmade, and the only thing left was a violent husk that lashed out and everyone around him. He was traumatized, and he acted without goal or reason, simply reacting to a world that was made too harsh for him. "

Some of the students were starting to look a bit pale, which was good. This was an important topic. The world is fucked up, and Aizawa could use some help in making sure these kids understand that. "The second classification is career, and back in the day, nobody had a better criminal career than All or Nothing. Hell, to this day, he remains at the top of whatever fucked up scoreboards that exist for this type of shit. A hitman for hire, All or Nothing had a very weak quirk that was put to a dangerous use. All he could do was nullify weak electrical fields. Couldn't make them, couldn't control them, he could only nullify them. Altogether, not that dangerous. Hell, it's actually almost completely harmless. That was until he found out that he could nullify the weak electrical force that held together atoms. No electrical field, the atoms fall apart, which means that the molecules fall apart, so on and so forth. He would touch his victims and disables this force, which would turn them into a pile of dust. All he had to do was touch them, anywhere. Walking down the street, alone in their house, in the halls of their workplace. He was quick, he was efficient, and he was the best there was."

"So, how did they catch him, Majima-sensei?" Wow, even invisa-girl was asking questions, wasn't today just swell. Then again, this was probably the most interesting lecture he's ever given. Wasn't he supposed to be talking about arms dealing today? Back to the subject at hand, he looked at Hagakure, or whatever.

"Whoever said he was caught?" Eyes went wide all around at that little tidbit. "Over a course of 37 years, All or Nothing killed an estimated 10,000 people, both innocent civilians, police officers, politicians, pro heroes, and even a fair number of villains. After the 37th year, there were no further reports of any homicides that matched his modus operandi. He disappeared, no longer took any jobs, and is believed to have enjoyed a quiet retirement before eventually dying of natural causes."

He gave the class a moment to let that sink in before he moved on. "The last classification is power. What I mean by this is the desire for power in its purest state. Not a desire to rule, not a desire to cause harm, or to destroy, but straightforward, untainted, simple power. Power, simply for the sake of having it. And no one in the last 200 years has ever displayed this desire so purely, than All for One." Again, Izuku seemed strangely interested about this one. There's no way he's heard about this guy, he's been dead for a long, long time. "I am not at liberty to tell you what his quirk was. Not only was it purposely scrubbed from the annals of history for a damn good reason, I truly don't think that most of you would be able to understand his quirk. I'm not insulting your intelligence." That last part was said as he held up a hand, as Iida, Yaoyorozu, and even Bakugou started to argue with him. "It has nothing to do with how smart you are, but about how you were raised. This society has taught all of you a few base rules that can never, ever be broken, no matter what. The power that All for One held spits in the face of just about every single one of these rules."

"His true name has been lost to time, hell I'm probably the only one who knows what it was, and that's only because I did a few jobs for him back before he came up with the name. All you need to know, is that All for One was probably the greatest villain to have ever existed. His mere presence brought even the mightiest heroes to their knees, his views on philosophy could topple even the best arguments crafted by the world's leading scholars, and the power he wielded granted him the unofficial title… Of the world's Symbol of Evil." There we go. His students looked much more than simply scared, the looked horrified. Scarred, even. "He possessed a desire for power that could rival even the most determined man, and he would plunge his soul into the blackest, vilest pits of the last and most horrific circles of hell in order to achieve his goals."

No one asked him. No one asked about the fate of such a monster. They were too scared to know the answer. They've been through enough today, so he'll cut them a break. "Midoriya," He nodded at the boy, catching his attention, "What do you think happened to All for One?"

"He… Got away, didn't he? Just like All or Nothing, didn't he?" The boy was shaking like a leaf, as was a fair number of his other students. Hell, even Bakugou seemed to be pretty freaked out. But of course, he can't tell them that Midoriya was right. If these kids knew that a monster like All for One might still be running around, then word might get out that he's still kicking, and it would cause a panic. He hates doing it, especially when he's talking about important stuff, but he's gotta lie. So, what should he tell them? Make something up? Tell a partial truth, and just withhold some of the really important stuff? He very obviously can't talk about his own involvement in that whole mess. He'd get more than fired, he'd probably get arrested. Alright, partial truth it was.

"Thankfully, no." The whole class looked at him confused. "The hero society, at the time, was still just an idea. The hero system that was in place at the time was just an experiment. It wasn't cemented until one hero, greater than any who had ever walked the Earth, would one day kill All for One. That heroes name has also been removed from history, at the request of his fiancee, as the hero himself had died in his effort to take down All for One. Just like with everything else, I'm gonna keep that hero's name a secret. But this time, I'm doing it out of respect for the sacrifice of that brave hero."

They were quiet. Every last one of them, as quiet as the dead. Majima sat at his desk, taking a look at his now dried notes. Oh hey, they were supposed to be talking about how seemingly useless quirks could be used for evil in the hands of villains. That would have been a good topic to talk about. Hell, Majima could have had fun with that topic. Damnit, if only Yamada hadn't fucked up his notes, then maybe he would have been able to teach these kids something useful today. The bell rang, and his class quietly shuffled out the door. He took a drink of his now cold coffee.

He was going to get chewed the fuck out by Nezu later, he could already tell.

#Ashido Mina/Izuku Midoriya #Midoriya Izuku #midoriya inko #mina ashido #all might #toshinori yagi #all for one #one for all #time stop #oc #slow burn #izumina

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operawindow9-blog · 5 years

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What’s missing from our list of 2018’s best TV?

As we wind down 2018, our best-of coverage continues with the following question:

What’s missing from our list of the year’s best TV?

Kyle Fowle

There’s hardly reason to argue with almost any year-end list these days because of the sheer number of good TV shows out there, but I’m genuinely surprised that HBO’s High Maintenance didn’t make our list. The second season of the HBO run keeps with the anthology-esque spirit of the show, but it goes deeper in ways surprising and touching. So, there’s still the random characters that populate New York and The Guy’s life, but what’s different this time around is a narrative through-line involving The Guy’s ex. That character arc, one of pain and jealousy and moving on, adds so much to a season that’s already achingly honest. Add in the fact that one of the year’s best episodes—“Globo,” reckons with the election of Donald Trump, and the completely indescribable feeling of moving through the world on the morning of November 9, 2016 in a smart, poignant, and stirring way—and you have a season of TV that’s more than worthy of any year-end list.

Myles McNutt

It’s difficult for an established reality show to make it into a best of TV list: Beyond the fact that critical conversation privileges scripted programming, reality shows are built on iteration, and that feels less novel or memorable when we reach the list-making time of year. And I’m part of this problem, because I failed to put CBS’ Survivor on my own list despite the fact that its fall cycle has been absurdly enjoyable for a show in its 37th—not a typo—season. Yes, the David Vs. Goliath theme is profoundly dumb. No, I couldn’t tell you a single thing that happened during the season that aired in the spring, so 2018 wasn’t all great for the series. But something about the alchemy of casting and game-play has created a season with a succession of satisfying twists and turns, reminding us that although we may not instinctively think of it as list worthy, a reality show 18 years into its run can still create some of television’s best drama and comedy. (I’ll never hear the name “Natalie” without laughing now.)

Eric Thurm

Making reality TV really pop is an artform: There are hundreds of hours of interactions to film, comb through, and precisely edit into a narrative that will make sense, delight viewers, and feel just slightly off, like humans hanging out too many years in the future to quite make sense to us. So every year, I become more and more impressed with the reigning queen of the genre: Vanderpump Rules. The sixth season is one of the show’s best; over half a decade in, Vanderpump Rules remains an examination of fame, misfired charisma, and the terrors of tenuous social status that would put any 19th century novel to shame. Whether it’s Jax Taylor maybe falling in love with his reiki master Kelsey while his relationship with Brittany Cartwright festers like an untreated sore, Stassi Schroeder’s then-boyfriend creating a new god tier of social faux pas by grossly hitting on Lisa freaking Vanderpump, or the slow-moving car crash of James Kennedy ignoring the “best friend” he was clearly sleeping with (not that anyone else cared), Vanderpump Rules remains mesmerizing. The cast of past, present, and future SUR employees are stuck with each other forever, and it’s incredible. It’s not about the pasta; it’s about dread.

Clayton Purdom

Aw, come on—am I the only person who thought Maniac was one of the year’s best? Well, apparently. Cary Joji Fukunaga’s 10-parter was far from perfect, but it aimed admirably high, wrangling spy action, elven fantasy, late-capitalist malaise, intense family dynamics, corporate psychotherapy and more into a freewheeling caper across several levels of reality. It also got career-best comedic performances out of Emma Stone and Justin Theroux and a fine, sad-sack turn from Jonah Hill. And Ben Sinclair! Not all of its ideas stuck, but it was messy, smart, and light in a way I’d love to see more sci-fi attempt.

Dennis Perkins

I’ll admit, I was worried going into the new, Mary Berry-less (not to mention Mel- and Sue-less), Great British Baking Show era, but I am pleased as rum baba to say that this enduringly endearing and delightfully stressful baking competition series has marched on just as sweetly. Sure, there’s a lingering bitter aftertaste to the great British baking show schism that led to those departures, but not on the Great British Baking Show itself, which rides remaining judge Paul Hollywood’s gruff charms alongside new judging partner Prue Leith and celebrity goofballs Noel Fielding and Sandi Toksvig without missing a trick. The key ingredient to this series’ success has always been the utterly generous heart that goes into every episode, and Fielding and Toksvig, if anything, seem more emotionally invested in the fates of the contestants they have to expel, one-by-one, from the show’s famous tent. And if Hollywood and Leith continue the necessarily merciless judging of soggy bottoms, overworked and under-proved doughs, and the occasional collapsing confectionary disaster, they, too, provide warmly constructive criticism rather than the traditional reality show scorn. A series—as the departed Berry was wont to say—“cram-jammed” with delights, The Great British Baking Show remains one of the most cozily exciting TV experiences going. [Dennis Perkins]

Alex McLevy

Maybe it’s the curse of distance that comes from being released way back in January, or maybe it’s simply a victim of the era of Too Much TV, but I’m bummed out to find the Steven Soderbergh-helmed Mosaic failed to crack our top 25. The miniseries is everything you could want in superlative television: a sharply nuanced and well-written mystery, performed by a coterie of uniformly strong actors at the top of their game (longtime character actor Devin Ratray deserves to be getting award nominations for his star turn), and an ace director brilliantly shooting and editing the whole thing into an intriguing puzzle? It’s the one thing I have felt comfortable recommending to anyone all year long who’s asked me what great show they should check out, regardless of individual tastes, and sadly, not a single person to date has responded with, “I’ve already seen it.” (Feel free to ignore the accompanying multimedia app as an experimental lark on Soderbergh’s part.) You’d think an HBO series from an Oscar-winning director wouldn’t need underdog-status championing, and yet here we are. Give it a watch if you haven’t yet—and odds are, you haven’t.

Caroline Siede

Come on you guys, Netflix’s Queer Eye gave us two full seasons and a special in 2018, and we couldn’t even give it a spot on our list?! I get that it can be hard to stump for reality TV when there’s so much great scripted stuff out there, but Queer Eye at least deserves a special award for being one of the most unexpected joys of 2018. The new Fab Five offered an updated spin on the early ’00s Bravo original, emphasizing self-empowerment, confidence, and empathy along with styling tips and home makeovers. Karamo used his vague “culture and lifestyle” assignment to deliver some really thoughtful therapy sessions, Tan invented a whole new way to wear shirts, Jonathan established himself as an instant icon, Antoni put avocado on stuff, and Bobby did five times as much work as everyone else while getting barely any credit for it. Whether we were bonding over tear-jerking transformations or mocking Antoni’s complete inability to cook, Queer Eye was the rare cultural unifier based on something lovely and uplifting, rather than dark and depressing. I’m guessing we’re still going to need that in 2019, so it’s a good thing the show has a third season on the way. Until then, I’ll just be rewatching A.J.’s episode on a loop.

Lisa Weidenfeld

I watched and loved a lot of TV this year, but it’s possible Wynonna Earp is the show I looked forward to the most, and also the one I wish I was seeing on more best-of lists this December. It’s a Western, a procedural, a Buffy descendant, a horror comedy, and probably a few other things as well. But mostly it’s fun. Its wildly entertaining third season was the strongest yet, and featured a potato-licking mystery, a Christmas tree topper made out of tampons, and one of TV’s sweetest ongoing romances—the usual stuff of great drama. The show’s mythology keeps expanding into an ever larger battle between forces far more powerful than its scrappy team of heroes, but it’s the writing and character work that make the show shine. Wynonna may be tough and merciless in her pursuit of victory, but it’s her sense of humor that keeps her human and compelling, and the bond between her and sister Waverly has provided a grounding emotional force on a show with an increasingly complex central plot. There just aren’t enough shows on TV that would work a Plan B joke into their heist sequence.

Vikram Murthi

Even correcting for James Franco’s involvement, which might put people off for legitimate reasons, it blows me away that The Deuce didn’t crack AVC’s main list. David Simon and George Pelecanos’ bird’s-eye view of the inception and proliferation of the sex industry in the United States represents some of the most mature, compelling television of the year. Simon’s detail-oriented, process-focused approach comes alive when examining a side of American culture that functions as a metaphor for everything: gentrification, the rise of cultural conservatism, urban renewal, late capitalism, and, most potently, the filmmaking process. This season, Simon and Pelecanos pushed their subjects toward broader freedoms that quickly revealed themselves to be traps in disguise. Not only does all social progress come with a price, but also it’s limited to those pre-approved by those controlling the purse strings. Yet, Simon and Pelecanos never forget that the tapestry of human experience is neither exclusively tragic nor comprehensively optimistic. Some people discover happiness, and others lose their way. Rising and falling in America has always been a permanent state because social environments and political context circumscribe life-or-death choices. It’s been a decade since The Wire ended, but its worldview lives on through Simon’s successive work: everything’s connected, follow the money, and bad institutions fail good people every damn day.

Danette Chavez

Although the show’s title addresses a certain demographic, Dear White People has so much to say beyond calling out the oblivious and privileged. Yes, Justin Simien’s adaptation of his 2014 film of the same name wears its politics on its sleeve, but they’re right next to its heart. The show is much more a winning coming-of-age dramedy than it is a polemic, and even then, it’s still miles ahead of most college-set series in both style and substance. Simien’s created his own visual language to capture both the intimacy of the relationships among the core cast, as well as the microscope they’re under as black students at an Ivy League school. And I really cannot say enough about the dialogue, which crackles and informs. Season one had such a moving coming-out storyline, made all the more so by DeRon Horton’s vulnerable performance; the new season follows Lionel’s adventures in dating and dorm sex, with hilarious and poignant results. Really, the whole cast should be commended, from Logan Browning, who provides a wonderfully complex center as Sam, to Antoinette Robertson, who may have given the series’ best performance in season two’s “Chapter IV.” Dear White People still makes a point of punching up—at racist and sexist institutions, tangible and otherwise—but many of its most extraordinary moments have come from characters like Sam, Gabe (John Patrick Amedori), and Reggie (Marque Richardson) recognizing their personal foibles. Thankfully, Netflix has already renewed Dear White People for a third season, giving you all a chance to get it together.

Gwen Ihnat

The odd Amazon sitcom Forever had a lot to say about the monotony of monogamy and marriage: Can you really stay with someone happily for the rest of your life? (Or afterlife, as the case may be.) With anyone but Fred Armisen and Maya Rudolph cast as that main couple, Forever might have slowly slid into bland drudgery. But the two gifted comic actors injected a lot of life into the monogamy question, aided by a spirited supporting cast including Catherine Keener, Julia Ormond, and Noah Robbins. Sure, there are some days when you want to talk to anyone but that person sitting across from you at the breakfast table. But who else would discuss with you, ad nauseam, banal topics like the perfect way to spend a half-hour, or the best way to sit in a chair? The standalone episode “Andre And Sarah” makes achingly clear how much finding (or not finding) that person who makes you shine steers the path your life will eventually take, all in a mere 35 minutes.

Allison Shoemaker

While I’d love to praise one of the many things that aired this year that I’m sure to revisit in future—someone else is going to mention Wanderlust, Salt Fat Acid Heat, and the dazzling Jesus Christ Superstar Live In Concert, right?—I feel compelled to bring up a program I’m almost certain I’ll never watch again. It’s unlikely that when HBO snapped up The Tale at Sundance this year, the network was thinking of the benefits of the pause button. Yet it’s a benefit all the same. The debut narrative feature from documentarian Jennifer Fox follows a fictionalized version of the director (played by Laura Dern) as she re-examines a traumatic childhood experience she’d filed away in her mind as loving and consensual, managing to be both gentle and almost unbearably upsetting all at once. Dern’s simple, seemingly relaxed performance belies the nightmare which fuels it, and that pause button may prove invaluable to some—it certainly was for me. The Tale is a film which seems to demand that you witness, rather than merely watch it. Should you need to walk away for a minute, it’ll keep.

Noel Murray

I know, I know: At least once or twice a year someone tells you about some cool animated series you should be watching, and talks about how trippy and ambitious and strangely deep it is. But guys, trust me: You need to catch up on Cartoon Network’s Summer Camp Island. Only half of season one has aired so far (20 10-minute episodes, mostly non-serialized), with the rest of the first batch reportedly set to debut before the end of the year. It’s a show parents can watch with grade-school-aged kids or on their own—a treat for animation buffs, and for anyone who enjoys a the kind of surrealism that’s more adorable than upsetting. With its snooty teen witches, dorky monsters, and never-ending parade of anthropomorphic clothes, toys, plants, and foodstuffs, Summer Camp Island is like a weird old Disney cartoon crossed with an ’80s teensploitation picture. And it is glorious.

A.A. Dowd

Mike Flanagan is a Stephen King guy. You could guess that from his adaptation of Gerald’s Game and from the news that he’s doing King’s Shining sequel Doctor Sleep next. Or you could just watch his work and marvel at how plainly influenced it is by the author’s, at how well it captures that signature King touch—the division of perspective among multiple characters, the interest in history and trauma, the graceful juggling of timelines. There’s much more King than Shirley Jackson in Flanagan Netflix take on The Haunting Of Hill House. The miniseries didn’t scare me as much as it seemed to scare a lot of my friends and colleagues—while well-executed, its jolts were mostly of the familiar James Wan spirits-slithering-up-walls variety. But I loved the intricacy of the storytelling, the way Flanagan moved fluidly from the childhood scenes to the adulthood ones and back again, mapping the entwined lives of these damaged siblings to suggest the way that our past and present remain in constant conversation. (It’s memories, of course, that are really haunting the Crain family.) In the end, I found Haunting Of Hill House a better, more spiritually faithful adaptation of It than the real one from last year. Guess that makes me a Mike Flanagan guy.

Erik Adams

The contents of The Big List demonstrate that it’s a great time for television comedy of all stripes: Animated, musical, workplace, detail-oriented genre parody, surrealist examination of the agony and ecstasy of existence. And while I would’ve liked to have seen some notice for the humble charms of NBC’s Superstore or a nod to that episode of Joe Pera Talks With You where Joe hears “Baba O’Riley” for the first time, I’m surprised that we didn’t heap more praise on another Michigan-set cable show co-starring Conner O’Malley. Like Myles with Survivor, I’m willing to accept that I’m part of the problem: Detroiters didn’t make my ballot’s final cut, despite all the hearty laughs, shoddily produced TV commercials, and General Getdown dance routines (“He’s a general—he’s the best”) the Comedy Central series gave me this year. Sam Richardson and Tim Robinson’s love letter to their shared hometown will always be powered by the stars’ explosively silly onscreen connection, but season two did some stellar work at fleshing out their characters as individuals, whether it was Sam reuniting with an ex to record a sultry grocery-store jingle or Tim (loudly) grappling with the family legacy of Cramblin Duvet Advertising. If nothing else, these episodes proved that when it comes to comedic news anchors, sometimes the inspiration for Ron Burgundy outstrips the legend himself.

Source: https://tv.avclub.com/what-s-missing-from-our-list-of-2018-s-best-tv-1830979080

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