Boy, this website really hates me, doesn't it?



5:36- I go to check my reviews for this story and it's not there. Naturally I am slightly confused. Is the URL messed up?

5:37- I go around the website attempting to find it.

5:38- I go to my login. The story is gone. Not there.

5:39- I begin to hyperventilate.

5:40- I begin to talk to myself, saying I should calm down. I go to the original document, still hyperventilating. I open said document.

5:41- I download said document. I begin to add apologetic author's note so as not to confuse people hearing from new story that they have already read.

5:44- I am about to post chapter, thinking "Wow, what a big screw up the website made," when I have an epiphony. I swear to myself repeatedly as I check my mail. I recieve this from FanFiction Admin.

Muffin Is Injured,

Title: "Video Killed the Radio Star"

Summary: "The question on all of our minds... what if The Fundamental

Things Apply, aka Movie Night, took a different turn? .wiggles eyebrows

suggestively. And no, I'm not talking about the lost love between Rory

and Trevor. JavaJunkie."

Rating: "Fiction Rated: K+"

Main reason for removal: "Non-story: lists, notes, polls, announcement,

and etc"

The above story has been removed because it violated the guideline

detailed on the upload page.

This infraction has been recorded and once you reach a certain limit,

your account be automatically banned. Moreover, as a result of this

infraction, you will not have upload access for a period of time.

5:46- Continue swearing to myself.

It's NOT Anon's fault! Much groveling has already been done on that subject. I still don't know what happened. But ah, we are just pawns in the chess game of life. I'm not sure if that makes sense, but it sounds pretty damn cool, doesn't it?

Aaaah, there's nothing like the smell of a fresh fic in the morning!

I'm here, and lemme tell you, folks, it is GREAT to be back. (Right now I'm acting like Shel the poultry guy, if you can't see me. Hmm, if you could, that would be creepy… okay, I've freaked myself out so I'm stopping there.) I loved reading all the reviews from the last chapter of my last fic- you guys are so fantaburiffic that I has to make up that word right there to describe your fantaburifficosity.

Hey, did you know that each of my fics have their own song? For Thank the Cavemen it's I Eat Cannibals- you remember all that debate, don't you? And you're lacking a few phosphates if you can't guess the song for Safety Dance. Not the 'because nothing says refreshment like a phosphate' kind of phosphate, the DNA kind. You know, base, sugar, phosphate. I think of you, my beloved reviewers, whenever I hear them. I actually made them their own playlist on iTunes. A two-song list. Each song has played about 40 times already and my family is complaining. "You're listening to I Eat Cannibals? Didn't we just listen to that?... I swear, I've heard this song, like, 20 times." Me: 'Oh, have you? Interesting.' I'm crazy so shut up. That's my favorite excuse. And now, try and figure out my new song. Come on, just guess.

I feel experienced! Third's the charm!

So, shout outs to those to which I promised shout outs… Some of you I didn't promise, I just felt you deserved it, what with all your rambling…

L/L r Lobsters: Here I am, mentioning you…and you're first! Special Alert! Yeah, it was a lot shorter than Safety Dance but I didn't mean for it to be that way… it's just, Safety Dance was all set up for me, with dancing and the beginning and stuff. I actually think I like Safety Dance better, but I love the last chapter for Thank the Cavemen. My fourth grade teacher used to be OBSESSED with my writing. She was kind of weird in that respect. I used to be completely obsessed with Harry Potter. But I'm not anymore. I still like it, though; I want the new book. That's so weird about the 'every episode' thing because I was thinking about doing the same thing! I mean, not planning or even doing, it just crossed my mind. Review when it's not hard anymore, okay? Hehe.

Lenina Crowne: I squealed a lot while reading your review. I blame that on you. Ha, I've converted you to a rambler! I have that power over people. I've forced many people into chairs with duct tape and forced them to watch Gilmore Girls until they appreciated it. Not that it takes long because of Gilmore's amazingness. Watch me convert you all until the world belongs to me! And Izzpuppy, I told her I'd share. (seeee below not that you will I just wanted to write that it sounds cool doesn't it like I have a life filled with other people look at me no punctuation I'm irritating myself now I will stop)

Lukelainroryndean: I love writing that crrrrazy town. Hehe, I'm glad you love the title. It makes me feel pretty intellectual. I can't believe I'm the only person you write long reviews for! Keep it that way. I'm selfish. You are now my property. But not in a dirty, submissive kind of way. I'm not like that. Hmm, billions? Who knew my rambling would give me such expensive props?

Rusty Bedsprings: I actually added that line "God, I wish I had your thighs" in as an afterthought but I love it too! And how was that wedding, huh? Scott Patterson there? Didja hit on him? Huh? Huh? Did the bride run away at the alter like in…Runaway Bride? Well, there's a redundant reference for you. It's like Boy Meets World. "The killer is one of us! It's just like the movie…The Killer is One of Us." Your review, sadly, isn't even close to being the longest. It's okay, I'll let you stay in denial. Well, I guess not.

Gidget89: I love making people fall of chairs because of my incredible wit. I love hearing that, it makes me crack up. When you told me that thing about echoless duck quacks I went around telling everyone on my buddy list DUCKS DON'T ECHO!. Don't give up the dream, you might get first one of these days. Well, I'll give you your own little title just in case. You can be…the Most Likely to be Blessed by a Rabbi. I love ya, babe, stay kosher.

Izzpuppy: I started cracking up when I read your review. I love freakishly alike people! I'm usually too scared to tell someone we're freakishly alike, though, because then I'm scared they'll think I'm a stalker or a wannabe or something… But I love you for it! We should get right on that world-ruling. I'll take Europe and Asia, you can do America and Antarctica, and we'll team up on the random other islands. I talk really fast too. I mean, you can't really tell because I'm online but I seem like the kind of person that talks fast, don't I? Well, I am, if you're a skeptic. I love saying 'Dirty' too… although, hey, who doesn't? Gilmore Goddess…hmm…I like that. I just checked your profile- why don't you have a bio thing? And hehe, I'm a favorite author. You like it long, eh? Dirty! I don't think you're a stalker. I love people worshipping me. Please, do it some more. That sounds dirty too. And stuck-up. But seriously, what person hates people telling them they're amazing? –sigh- I know people just can't help themselves around me and my brilliance.

Totaltvjunkie: Yeah, forget going to the gym, just read my fics! You druggie you…I'm the dealer AND the drug… funny aint it? I don't really research the location of insane asylums so I'm not the person to ask. And about the hitting my face on the computer. You have never hit your face on one because you are just not as SKILLED as me, my friend! I'm on a laptop, and I was sitting on the couch with it on my –gasp- lap, and then I moved forward to get the remote or something (I was actually watching Raincoats and Recipes at the time) and my legs moved the computer and the corner smacked me in the tooth. I'm graceful that way.

Epona9009: I loved writing the pajama-attack scene. And I am doing another What in the World if? fic.. right now. You are reading it. I feel like I should say more because your review was so long, but really, the rest is just something I read and then nod in approval. So… -nods in approvals several times- There we go.

Oh yeah- StephieM, loquacious means… go find a dictionary, you lazy bum. I mean, you're on the internet, at least use an online one. Ha. I slay myself at times.

Cheesey Honey Cookie Sweetie: Babe! Where are you? Slipping from pissed into concerned mode. Good thing I aint lactose intolerant.

Sorry for all those first-timers for my fics. Get used to the rambles.

So, this fic. It's another What in the World If? fic (shock, horror, surprise) and it's from The Fundamental Things Apply, 4-05 (aka Movie Night to all you less-obsessive…pish, I blow my nose at you! Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries!). See, this is the question that is has been on all of our minds. It keeps us awake at night; we toss and turn in the sheets, sweating with fear, wondering. What would have happened if the night took a different turn? We can only fantasize, and, now, read this.

And no, I'm not talking about the lost love between Rory and Trevor.

Oh yeah, disclaimer. Since I've tortured you too long with my untamed wit, I'll make it short and sweet. Not mine. That's short. Donuts! That's sweet.

Video Killed the Radio Star

Chapter Un: Are You Pregnant?

Lorelai watched Luke. "Hey, I have an idea. Tomorrow night is usually movie night."


"Rory and I would always rent a bunch of movies, order food -- it was our thing," explained Lorelai. "Now she's at school and busy, so why don't you come over? It might be fun."

Luke paused for a second, thinking. "Okay."

Lorelai was strolling through aisle seven of the Doose's- or, as she heard Luke fondly call it, the aisle of inevitable suicide. Lorelai never understood what was so deadly about it. I mean, an aisle with marshmallows could be nothing but innocent. She always retaliated that it wasn't just coincidence that the number of the candy aisle rhymed with heaven, Luke could never fight back because, seriously, what else rhymed with seven? Except, you know, eleven. But that was the pet food aisle. Not exactly heaven. Ugh, it smelled like crap. And from what she'd seen in Babette's house, the stuff was crap. Regurgitated crap, even. Just put in a can with a pretty label. How on earth were people allowed to sell that stuff? I mean, isn't that an EPA violation? She thanked her lucky stars that she didn't have a cat every time she saw Babette feed Apricot. Thank God she had no skills concerning pets. I mean, just look what happened to poor Skippy. What kind of a phrase was 'lucky stars' anyway? What the hell was a lucky star?

Lorelai dragged her mind away from its entertaining escapades to focus on the mission at hand- choosing the perfect food for movie night. After all, it was Luke's first movie night, and she wanted to go all out. Lorelai added a pack of cookie dough to her already escalating collection of marshmallows, chocolate chips, Oreos, peanut butter, Twizzlers, Cheetos Puffs, Twinkies, two tubs of that new Half-Baked Ben and Jerry's ice cream, and those little brown and white chocolaty things that people put on ice cream sometimes.

She decided to be compassionate and grabbed a bag of carrot sticks from aisle two.

Lorelai rounded the end of the aisle, dropping a box of Movie-Theatre Style popcorn in her basket, and approached Taylor at the register.

"Well hi-diddly-ho there, Lorelai, stocking up for another movie night extravaganza?" he said in his annoyingly high-spirited voice.

"Sure am, Taylor. Why are you behind the counter tonight?"

He sighed, warning her she was in for a patented Taylor-spouting of whatever he deemed unacceptable at that moment. "Oh, my bagboy called in at the last possible moment. Said something or other about his mother being in the hospital." Taylor shook his head as he bagged Lorelai's Twinkies. (Dirty, I'm sorry). "Mentioned intensive care, might not make it, blah, blah, blah- it's all excuses! I tell you, you just can't depend on kids these days."

"That rascal."

"Don't I know it," he agreed. "So, who's your movie night company tonight?"

She paused, a little flustered. "Sorry?"

"Usually you're with Rory, but I know she's at Yale tonight. So, who's joining you?"

"Ahh… no one. Flying solo tonight." She grinned, fumbling with her purse.

"Oh, well…" He clicked a few keys. "And that comes to 19.73 total," he announced, handing her two bags and smartly sliding the twenty she gave him into its designated spot in the register.

"Pleasure doing business with ya, Taylor," she called as she exited the market sharply. "Keep the change, I'm feeling generous."

"Twenty-seven cents and she thinks she's Mother Theresa," grumbled Taylor, tightening his bowtie fiercely.

Lorelai had barely let out a breath of relief before she collided with Miss Patty, who was admired the squash in the wooden boxes outside the market. "Oops… sorry, Patty, should've had my lights on." She laughed in her nervous fashion, stepping away. "Well, I'm off."

"Movie night tonight?" questioned Patty.

"Yes, yes there is. Now if I could just-"

"Is anyone with you?"

"Nope, I'm all by my lonesome on this one."

Patty peered into the bags Lorelai was gripping tightly. "Seems like a lot of food for one person."

Lorelai laughed. "Well, never underestimate the power of a Gilmore's stomach." She was glad she had picked up the carrots last, therefore landing them on the bottom of the bag, away from Miss Patty's eagle eyes.

"If you say so, honey," shrugged Patty. "See you later. I've got a date tonight, and I'm doing a little last-minute shopping."

"Sure, because a date just isn't a date without… " She peered into Miss Patty's basket. "Olive oil and all-purpose flour."

"You said it, doll," she replied with a suggestive wink.

"Bye, Patty." Lorelai walked away at an unusually brisk pace for her- almost a jog- and released a sigh. She knew that if they caught wind of her and Luke's movie night, she'd never hear the end of it. She'd probably have to scrape snot stains off the windows the next morning from all the busybodies with their faces shoved against her windows. Hell, she'd probably have to scrape entire faces off the glass.

Lorelai stepped back and admired her handiwork. She had managed to coax everything she bought, along with the Chinese she ordered, onto the coffee table with minimal stacking and/or bowl consolidating. Climactic, black-and-white-sounding Casablanca music was playing from her TV as the DVD sat ready to go, different scenes playing across the main menu. She was wearing her favorite black cashmere sweater that she'd bought under the influence of cold medicine and had dented her bank account considerably and used her new coconut body lotion. Beer and coffee was in the kitchen, pillows were plumped on the couch, lighting was sufficiently dimmed.

She was bored. Where was Luke?

She was just about to consider putting his picture on a milk carton when the doorbell rang. She sprung over, running a hand through her newly-washed hair.

Lorelai swung the door open to find a bag-laden Luke. "Are you pregnant?"

"Not that I know of…" replied Luke, raising his eyebrows.

"Well, I wouldn't be so sure. You're late."

"Ah," said Luke, stepping inside with a grin- well, as close to a grin as Luke Danes got. "Sorry 'bout that, there was an unexpected rush at the diner."

"Yeah, well, you had me worried. I didn't know if you were living with Carlos Solis." Lorelai wagged an accusing finger at him. "Is your birth control being tampered with?" She broke off as she caught a whiff of Luke's bags. "What is that incredibly delicious smell, may I ask?"

"Food. I told you I'd bring it." He entered the living room and caught sight of the crowded coffee table. "And apparently you ignored me. Am I surprised?"

"Well, you know me, I love my routine," smirked Lorelai. "Just…" She surveyed her table with pursed lips. "Well, put it on the floor. Want a beer?" She bounced into the kitchen before he could answer, knowing the response would be affirmative anyway.

Luke perched gingerly on the edge of the couch and leaned forward, eyeing the sugared table distrustfully. "Why did you buy so much crap?" he questioned as she returned, slapping a beer into his hand and popping the top off her own.

Lorelai feigned a shocked look, putting her hand over heart. "I cannot believe what I am hearing. These Twizzlers are CHERRY flavored! And I got the jumbo pack. I'm not likely to be getting scurvy soon with all this fruit around the house."

"My mistake," he replied dryly, taking a swig of his beer. "What are we watching?" he asked, settling back onto the couch.

"A classic. Casablanca, which you apparently have never seen, though I find that hard to believe."

"Trust me. I'm not a big movie guy."

"Really? Because I always saw you as one of those Netflixers who can quote Val Kilmer's huge line from Top Secret! at any possible moment."

Luke rolled his eyes. "Just start the movie, please."

"Woah, we're not ready yet."

"We're not?"

"No. You gotta get comfortable, squish around."

"I'm fine."

"No, really, squish. Come on." Lorelai bounced up and down.

"I'll take a rain check on the squishing."

"You can't do that," informed Lorelai. "You're not allowed to squish during the movie. It's against the rules."

"Of course there's rules," he sighed. "It is a Gilmore movie night, after all, and when you think Lorelai Gilmore you think structure."

"You mock me, but yes. The rules are an integral part of movie night to ensure our ultimate enjoyment."

He sighed and grabbed a carrot stick. "Tell me."

Ow. My neck hurts. I was attacked by a surfboard. No joke, it tried to decapitate me and it just hit me in the neck. I have a huge cut! I had to pull an under-water Matrix and bend back to avoid further injuries. Stupid possessed surfboard.