Scandal 3×09 ‘YOLO’: Int. Shonda Rhimes’ tastefully decorated apt., midnight

Source: ABC

“YOLO. Goddamn YOLO.”

Shonda Rhimes muttered it to herself again, but it still sounded atrocious. “YOLO. YOOOOOOLOOOOOO. Muthaf-en YOLO. He’s dead, Jim, on account of the YOLO. Mr. President, I can’t…because YOLO.”

Christ. Shonda shoved her laptop away in frustration. She quickly drained the comically large wineglass sitting in front of her and threw it to the ground in disgust. It didn’t matter. Fans had sent her literally thousands of comically large wine glasses over the past two years, it’s not like this one was irreplaceable. And it felt good to break it. She felt in control.

Source: ABC

Source: ABC

Unless…goddamnit, of course. It was one of those unbreakable glasses they used on boats, the ones Katie Lowes’ had given her as a gag gift, the troll. Just like Katie to ruin the one perfect moment. Overstepping her bounds. That’s what she was doing. Overstepping her bounds. Shonda had written her on as a FAVOR for the one time Katie had fed her cats when she took her kids to see their grandparents, and now she was stuck with this useless, crappy eyesore taking up her camera space. It was the same thing every time:

“But I’m the audience surrogate…”

Shut your goddamn mouth, ratchetgirl. Have you seen this show? The audience needs to be grounded in reality like it needs a hole in the head. If anything actually kept them tethered down to reality they’d actually have to react to the delirious ravings of a paranoic that passed for a plot at this point rather than bathe in the warm insanity of betrayal and political intrigue that she was expertly laying out for them, thank you very much.

Get a goddamn clue, girl, Shonda concluded. She poured herself another comically large glass of wine.


Her mind filled with the ingratiating screams of the network VPs earlier that day.  Hmm. Tasty.

“Shonda, these kids today, they really like the idea of YOLO! Can you provide YOLO? You have to provide YOLO.”

Source: ABC

Source: ABC

Can Shonda provide YOLO. She snorted. In the scheme of things she didn’t really mind. Hell, she’d let Darby Stanchfield get that ridiculous club girl makeover this season. Darby had loved it, which was good, because it meant Shonda didn’t have to write extra scenes of her hooking up with Josh Malina. AND THEN! And then, she went along with their ridiculous hashtag bingo.

“Shonda, we already have #Scandal down on lock. But we’re trying to get #AskScandal up and running!”

Great. Good job.

“Hey, you think you can throw in a YOLO? We want a piece of that sexy #YOLO action!”

Blow it out your ass, ABC Vice President of Twitter. Upjumped social media intern. In college Shonda had made couch stains with Franzia worth more than that chode.

Yeah, she’d give him his shiteating YOLO. Like she didn’t already throw in enough…

Her phone buzzed. Josh Malina’s agent. “Josh didn’t get the scenes we talked about in the latest rewrite.”


“Network veeps wanted more nonsense srry.”

Although honestly what did Josh Malina expect? Stop goddamn talking about how you worked with Aaron Sorkin back when he was on “the coke.” We get it, Josh, everyone compares Scandal to The West Wing. Ooooooh, which is better.

Shonda didn’t care. Sure, she upped the tempo just to shove Sorkin’s fabled fast-talkers back into the septic tank where they belonged, but who wants to write some golden boy Frank Capra president? Boring. Unrealistic. Sex and corruptions, that’s how you play the game.

She threw her empty glass to the ground again. It bounced. That’s it, she thought, Lowes is definitely naked for the torture scene. I’ma air condition the crap out of that set.

Source: ABC

Source: ABC

Sorkin. Ugh. She’d met Sorkin at the Emmy’s this year. When that drunk puke Jeff Daniels won for him. Oh, and that ugly crier Claire Danes had beaten Kerry! She writing a soap opera? Had they seen Homeland? “Oh hi, I’m from the CIA and I have a mental illness and I’m sleeping with the enemy who might not be the enemy because *brainwashing*.” Yeah, whatever Alex Gansa. But Sorkin, yeah, Sorkin though he was saving the goddamn world every day with his contemporary world history fanfic. News doesn’t save the world and politics sure as hell doesn’t save the world. She’d met politicians. Crazy bug-eyed sociopathic bastards, the lot of them. And then they’d had the balls to give Dan an Emmy, which, Dan was sweet and all, but he was basically there to be the show’s rent boy…

Oooh, rent boy. She wrote that down.

Where was the wine? She needed more wine.

Man, why had they written off Lisa Kudrow? When Lisa was around Bellamy actually became fun instead of an overly dramatic Mormon in a cheap wig.

“YOLO. What the hell do you do with YOLO?”

You only live once. Yeah, duh. Warmed over Carpe Diem nonsense the little twerps hadn’t gotten out of their system by standing on their desks and yelling “Oh captain my captain,” while getting blown by their prep school friends while the teacher was still passed out from last night’s coke binge.

Hell, you only get this type of crazy show once, she thought. Get to do crazy stuff and no one can say anything about it. The only notes you get don’t really screw with the plot. Except when they do, because, you know, YOLO. Shonda wondered. Was it liberating, now? She could do whatever she wanted. She was free, conceptually anyway. But she also knew she wasn’t gonna get this blank a check with network money again. Yeah, she was pulling 10 million pairs of eyeballs, but wouldn’t last, and certainly wouldn’t follow her to another show, not in this climate. So maybe this was the last freedom she would get.  Was she using her time well?

Did that matter? Was anyone using their time well? Why do people even care about whether they only live once or not, when the real tragedy was that we only lived each moment once? You may live forever but you’ll never get another crack at the apple.

Ha. Crack at the apple. Crack teeth. Crack heads. YOLO. He’s not the monster, she is. What the hell, she had liked Joe Morton in T2.

She needed more wine.

There wasn’t enough wine in the world.

John M.

works for a legal newspaper in Baltimore and lives within three blocks of Tilghman Middle, the alley where Omar and Brother Mouzone have their showdown, and Pearson’s Florists. He enjoys putting his liberal arts degree to good use by watching a lot of TV and reading a lot of internet. He occasionally blogs (about Dawson’s Creek) on tumblr.


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  • Eric Pharand

    Poor. Boring. Stupid. Cyrus/James are heartbreaking. Mellie’s good.

  • don loehr

    What is this all about and what the hell is it for? Got about a quarter of the way down and then, with hopes of saving some other unsuspecting soul and hopes they would read the comment section first, couldn’t take anymore and came here to the comments section to tell you this thing sucks.