idk how other people define peak comedy, but for me it's visiting someone else's home and noticing a faint-but-distinguishable cat paw print on the ceiling. Events have Occurred here
The fact that Hugh Grant, icon of romance movies from 90 to mid 2000, played a house baker gay husband is insanely genius and whoever came up with that cast choose is a freaking genius.
my sincere and heartfelt thanks to @darkfinch for learning that the unnamed long-haired hitter moreau hired is called "The Frenchman" in the commentaries and near-immediately responding with:
Thinking about the episode where Dipper and Mabel went back in time and ran into kid-Wendy, who thought Dipper was cute, and it was kind of this "wow" moment for him. Now I can't stop imagining a scenario in the familiar au where a married, up-and-coming demon hunter Dipper Pines, along with Bill, have to go back in time for whatever reason to about when he was 12. He figures they should keep a low profile if they want to return to their timeline unchanged, but they end up bumping into Dipper's younger self, back when he was first dropped off and all noodle armed and couldn't really defend himself against the town bullies. Almost as if on cue, a group of kids come up on young Dipper and try to pick on him, only for adult Dipper to ward them away. Older Dipper still considering himself kind of a massive loser with a lot to learn, but his younger self just looks at this strange new-comer and thinks he's SO COOL🤩🤩🤩!!! And maybe follows him around a bit in admiration, silently saying stuff about wishing he were "that strong," or "that smart," or "ever a little cool." And Dipper has that same "wow" moment, but for an entirely different reason. Maybe he did grow up to be everything he wanted to be as a kid, and maybe even the kid version of him wasn't a loser to begin with; people were just serious jerks.
(Bonus points if Stan definitely knows who this flame-wielding stranger that just blew into town is, and seeing how Dipper's grown and matured puts him at ease and makes him more confident that maybe he can raise the twins on his own. Look at the kid go. He did something right.)
Anon, why must you tempt me with new ideas when I have so many WIPs
“Welcome,” cries Donna Noble, “to the Sad Time Lords Drinking Society!”
The beach stretches as far as the eye can see. There seems to be nobody else on it. The sand is black; Jack has discovered it is rough beneath the toes, like gravel. The sea is a rich and iridescent blue; the sky above it clear and serene. A breeze ruffles the thatched roof of the bar at which they are all seated. From the radio behind the counter issue the tinny strains of a zither.
“I move to rename the society,” says the Doctor. He’s a tall, skinny man in a pin-striped suit and an outlandish pair of shoes, who looks like he stuck his fingers in a plug socket and still hasn’t burned off the energy. He and Donna emerged from a blue edifice labelled POLICE BOX, which is now sitting modestly on the beach next to Miss Fisher’s TARDIS, once more a Hispano-Suiza. Miss Fisher has introduced the Doctor as “my oldest friend, literally, he’s got a century or so on me”.
“Quite,” says Miss Fisher, “we are hardly sad - I am always merry, for one - and only one of us identifies as a Time Lord at present.”
“And he is not sad,” puts in the Doctor.
“Rubbish,” says Donna. “Get a couple of drinks in you and you’ll be all mopey again.”
“Anyway,” says the Doctor. He is sipping a complex cocktail out of a coconut, too violently coloured to actually be from the coconut, through a twisty straw. “To business. Present: the Doctor, tenth incarnation; the Fisher, third - honestly, how are you only on your third one?”
“Clean and virtuous living,” says Miss Fisher demurely over her sidecar.
Mac snorts into her glass. “Hallelujah.”
“Companions,” the Doctor continues dictating minutes to an invisible secretary, “Donna Noble - ” Donna makes a mock-bow “ - Dr MacMillan, good-looking, ginger and an actual doctor, I hope my future regenerations are taking note - ”
“I’m flattered,” says Mac. “I think.”
“ - and Detective Inspector Jack Robinson, whose first time it is at the Drinking Society of Time Persons of Various Moods and Genders.” The Doctor beams at him. “When did she pick you up from, then?”
“The 1920s,” says Jack.
“Oh, we just went, didn’t we, Donna? Lovely time.”
“I mean, there was a murder,” says Donna. “Quite a few murders, actually. Also, a giant wasp. Oh, and the Doctor got poisoned.”
“And we met Agatha Christie!” exclaims the Doctor. “Great stuff.”
“Yes,” says Jack. “That sounds exactly like what goes on in the 1920s.”
- from World Enough and Time, a Doctor Who/Miss Fisher crossover
Note of acknowledgment to all of you still following me and reading but scared to interact because of the smear campaign and anonymous attacks that can happen if you interact with my blog. I know you're all here and I appreciate you. I'm glad you're still reading.