Clawing to escape the belly of the beast here in Hollywood. To commiserate, email my name assistantatlas at yahoo.

Tuesday, August 02, 2005

Second Season Finale & Obligatory Cliffhanger: 2.50

Seething in fury behind the second 'L', ASSISTANT/ATLAS holds in one hand a broken bottle of Jack Daniels. The other is firmly around the neck of GARTH ANCIER, who snivels as Atlas menaces him with the jagged glass.

Oh, God, why Atlas?

God is dead, Garth. "7th Heaven" killed him.

A local news helicopter zooms overhead, circling in.

SLOANE temples his fingers and smiles as he watches the live news footage of Atlas and Garth as narrated by a macho copter reporter.

It appears that an angry, out-of-work assistant has taken 's President, Garth Ancier, hostage. While the LAPD is en route, they have not yet--

Sloane pushes the mute button as MAGGIE enters his office carrying files.

Sloane, I need your John Hancock on these.
Is that a car chase or something on tv?

FAMKE enters, tossing her keys on the counter and strolling toward the window. Noticing the news helicopter swirling around the Hollywood sign, she steps out onto her terrace for a better look.

As Atlas presses the glass to Garth's neck-- just strong enough to draw a single bead of blood-- and his eyes blaze with whiskey-fueled passion.

Oh, I'm sorry, Garth, I think your question was "Why"? Well, let me answer your question with another question: how can you run a weblet with your head up your a$$?

Maggie lays the files in front of Sloane but keeps her eyes glued to the tv.

Hey, what's going on at the Hollywood sign?

BUBBLES skips into Sloane's office.

Okay, David Janollari's assistant called. Is stuff about the WB filed under Warner Brothers, or like, Viacom, or what?

This elicits surprise from Maggie and Sloane.

Bubbles, how did you know Warner Brothers and Viacom are affiliated?

And how'd you know who David Janollari is? Last week, you asked me if David Geffen was the guy from "Charmed".

Duh. Atlas gave me, like, a whole lecture on which corporation controls what other corporation. So what are you watching, a car chase?

Hairpiece whipped off by the winds generated by the news copter, Garth is weeping openly.

Please, it's not my fault.

So someone else put your own head up your a$$?

I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I didn't realize--

What-- you didn't realize that you're supposed to be catering to what people want? You didn't realize that you shouldn't insult your declining base of fans? That entertainment is about entertaining people and not trying to feed them the crap the WB studios puts out?

Wha- what?

In the distance, LAPD sirens begin to WAIL.

The Roomie paces, ear pressed to the phone.

I know, I haven't seen him for like, two days. . .

The Roomie listens for a few moments.

Yeah, and last time I saw him he had a huge jug of Jack Daniels in his hand. Which is never a good sign. So you'll call me if you hear anything, right? . . .Okay, thanks. Bye.

The Roomie hangs up, worried, and looks around the empty apartment.

Famke watches the news copter circling the sign and the LAPD patrol cars winding their way toward the sign. Brow furrowed, she heads inside to her empty home.

Atlas, are you here? Atlas?

Atlas hurls Garth away from him-- sending him tumbling into the back of the 'Y'.

You are full of sh*t, Garth. You act like you're just Hollywood's b*tch. But we both know that's not true. I'm Hollywood's b*tch. We both know you're one of the few people in this f**king industry that doesn't answer to anyone else. But you've forgotten, Garth, that you do answer to someone.

Wha-who? The shareholders?

Okay, well, them, too. But you're interested in getting people's eyeballs watching your channel, Garth. And that means you answer to the people. . . you're supposed to, anyway.

The WAIL of the LAPD sirens grows closer. Garth looks toward the road, calculating if he can make a break for it.

Sloane, Maggie and Bubbles gather close to the television.

Ohmygod, doesn't the hostage-taker guy totally look like Atlas?

A flicker of a smirk crosses Sloane's face.

Holy sh*t! That IS Atlas!

Atlas, waving the jagged remains of the glass bottle, closes in on Garth, whose back is against the Hollywood sign's "Y".

Tell me why, Garth, why won't you bring back the Global Frequency? Why are you feeding us crap like a Jane Leeves sitcom? She wasn't even funny on "Frasier"?

I liked her on "Frasier".

You would, wouldn't you, you f*cking philistine.

What's a philistine?

Maggie looks accusingly at Sloane.

Sloane. What did you do?

Nothing. It's not my fault he's seriously psychotic.

He wasn't psychotic before he was your assistant!

Famke, bored, plucks a set of binoculars from a closet and heads out onto her terrace to scope out whatever is unfolding near the Hollywood sign. She can't see Garth, but when she sees Atlas, see drops her binoculars.

Madre de Dios!

And rushes out the door. . .

Atlas gazes out at the mansions nestled in the hills around him. Garth edges toward the road leading away from the Hollywood sign.

I didn't start this so I could get one of those mansions. I'm happy with an apartment in Venice. Do you know why I started, Garth? Why I became an assistant?

Um. . .no, why?

Because I wanted to make beautiful art. Or at least interesting movies. God, how naive is that?

Garth says nothing, but rises to his knees.

ATLAS [con't]
I thought that if I just put in my time, did the work, eventually I'd be able to get my own thing going. Or at least, influence things, make a difference, improve Hollywood and maybe the world. But you know what, Garth? F*ck that. I'm done with it. All I want to do now is destroy it. Destroy it all.

Suddenly, Garth makes a break for it-- racing toward the approaching LAPD cars. Atlas charges after him, tackling the tubby exec and sending them both sliding down the hill toward a precipice.

Atlas manages to halt their slide just as they go over a cliff, grabbing a scrubby plant with one hand and Garth's arm with the other.

Atlas and Garth hang over a 200-ft. drop, held up only by Atlas' grip on the small plant. Atlas strains, to no avail, to pull himself and Garth up. Atlas shrieks with laughter then smiles down at Garth.

Motherf*cker. You're so heavy now I know you're full of sh*t.



Chad Michael Murray as Atlas
Ron Rifkin as Sloane
Joan Cusack as Maggie
Jane Horrocks as Bubbles
Joshua Jackson as The Roomie
Famke Janssen as Famke

Special thanks to for stopping by.
Thanks, Garth.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

*Sly Chuckle*

Good start Atlas. Clever.

2:23 PM

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Good, Atlas, me likee this post. But why is there a huge picture of the NBC logo behind Garth if he's the WB's president?

2:36 PM

Anonymous Enrique said...

Madre de dios!

5:03 PM

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Dude, by now everyone in the town has an idea of who you are. There is no anonymity here, so I guess if the idea is to revel in self-pity whilst collecting a sympathy vote / fuck / job offer; well, right on. Could work for you.

But lets face it, man, it's probably not going to. The world has bigger teeth than you, and the tiny bite-marks you leave will be forgotten by tomorrow lunch-time.

15 minutes might be enough for some...but you should be more astute and ambitious.

Good luck. You are going to need it very, very soon.

8:19 PM

Blogger ????? said...

re: previous comment...

that's just a really lame thing to say. This blog is great, and I don't think he's going for "15 minutes" - he wants another assistant job, not a book deal.

9:08 PM

Anonymous Anonymous said...

The blog was funny. Now it's whining and pitiable.

I venture there are two AA's. The heroic, down-but-not-out, 'I'm right and they are wrong' AA of this Blog.

And the AA who is being treated with extreme suspicion at every meeting he's taking right now, and wondering why he ain't getting the gig when his references are pulled.

The term 'shitting in your own nest' comes to mind.

9:31 PM

Blogger Grace said...

Ouch. It is amazing to me that people feel the need to comment with such criticism. I read this blog because it is well written with humor and humility. I think you are a good writer, I believe you started this blog just to write. To think some readers assume that you are just out for "15 minutes" is ridiculous.

Does anyone know how hard it is to get readers to click on your blog? Not to mention, you have to capture their attention long enough for them to like what they read. I read two blogs, this one and Two blogs. The chances are other Interneters only read two blogs and yours probably isn't one of them.

If Atlas really is trying to garner fame for himself, don't you think we'd know his name right now? I mean the definition of "15 minutes" means people know your name and recognize your face. Bloggers don’t write to get fame and fortune. They write because it’s a form of personal expression and they continue to write because it’s what makes them happy. And it keeps them slitting their wrists at a job they hate or reverting to alcoholism to cases of unemployment.

Frankly Atlas, I'm surprised these losers know how to read let alone convey actually coherent thoughts.

Them there schooling is gettin better in Alabama. (Not to insinuate that people from Alabama are uneducated. Please send all hate mail to

4:54 AM

Blogger Peggy Archer said...

Wow. I have no idea who Atlas is, other than someone I like to read.

I also don't care. A good read is a good read, and fun is fun.

Lemme guess... you're the one who called me a 'commie' twice, right?

4:26 PM

Anonymous Anonymous said...

m. and grace, let me guess, you're not from LA. The industry as a whole may be a medium sized world, but the agency assistant world is definitely a small one. I've read and loved this blog for quite a while now, but c'mon Atlas, for the sake of yourself and your future around here...forget everyone else's fun and let it go.
I work at one of the places you applied, and yeah, a couple of us were pretty damn sure it was you. There's no fighting the machine from the outside, and if people recognize your big wooden horse, you won't be getting back in anytime soon. The Thought Police must be sabotaged, we need you on our team Winston!

4:45 PM

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hey Anon@4:45-- does he really look like Chad Michael Murray? Also-- why didn't you help him get the job, especially if you knew it was him [or were pretty damn sure]? I think he'd probably be a blast to work with, don't you? Just curious.

4:56 PM

Anonymous Anonymous said...

ARRGGHH! Atlas! Look at that. You're sparking widespread discrimination against us tall, blond male assistant wannabes.
Although I guess to be fair, it is the first time in my life I've been discriminated against for being a blond male and/or vaguely resembling Chad Michael Murray.
[but I really need a friggin' job]

5:00 PM

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Great. So when applying for any agency assistant job in the industry, it's now necessary to specify that one isn't Assistant/Atlas? F8cking bloggers.
[I do love your blog, though, A/A, it amuses the piss out of me]

6:03 PM

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hey Anon@4.46

Would you help someone to get a job knowing that they get their kicks from broadcasting the way you smell / eat / talk / fuck???

What if they broadcast how you were fucking the boss? Or the way you fuck up things all day? How stupid you were?

What if you were'nt any of those things, and the person you employed was just a talentless, bitter twink with a turn of phrase?

Oh yeah. I'd help the dude. Jesus.

6:33 PM

Anonymous Anonymous said...

I think the question is-- is Atlas evil? Or a victim of circumstance? Would he be such a 'bitter twink' [aren't twinks gay guys, btw?] if he worked someplace that wasn't so messed up? Of course, he's not likely to find such a place in Hollywood, but that's beside the point.

The question is: if Atlas somehow gets a job someplace that isn't like SD-6 would his blog still be all about how he hates his boss/job? Or would it become something else?

But personally, I think the most important question is-- would it still be funny?

8:07 PM

Blogger the roomie said...

Dearest Atlas:

I miss you. I read your blog today in lieu of being surrounded by your glowing presence. That being said, please find a job soon. You owe me a lot of money and rent is due in a week and a half.


Your Roomie

P.S. You can suck on the quartet of the Weinstein's wrinkly balls for cybertronically Hollywoodizing me into Joshua Jackson.

P.P.S. Why is there no JD in the house?

8:13 PM

Anonymous assistant_indy said...

Way to go fuckface. I told you not to get an avatar or talk about what you look like. And now I find out I may have been screwed out of my big agency gig b/c they think I was you-- dammit, Atlas. Damn you and your resemblance to Chad Michael Murray.

(Don't worry, Atlas, I still like you as a person even if I now hate your blog-- most of that was self-hatred seeping through)

10:21 PM

Anonymous Anonymous said...

I know that the assistant world is probably a very small one, but really how f*cked is it that every agency now is paranoid that some guy applying is A/A? And shouldn't said agencies be, Oh I don't know, working instead of reading some guy's blog? And how many hits does A/A really get a day, I know they can't all be from people in the industry. And does he really resemble Chad Michael Murray so much? And it's H'wood you mean to tell me that all assistant's aren't blond?

Enough ranting...but really A/A I kinda agree with some other've gotten a little whiny.

8:09 AM

Blogger Assistant Atlas said...

Jeez, I'm gone for one day and my comments light up like a slot machine. Frankly, I don't even know where to start. The fact that this blog could be causing discrimination against blond guy assistants is actually really disturbing-- and let me assure you, a totally unwanted side effect of my blogging. Indy, if it's true that this was the reason you didn't get the job, I'm really, REALLY sorry. [don't worry man, you're phenomenally talented, you'll find something] And if that's true about anyone else, I'm also sorry to them to.

Also: I am not evil. I would love to just become a blogger who takes potshots at stupid pop cultural phenomena and likes his job/boss to the point where I either don't talk about them or reserve myself to praise or just describing wacky situations in which we all find ourselves. [thus my pleas for JJ Abrams to rescue me]

Frankly, I didn't consider that I could be popular enough that the big agencies would've heard of me, let alone become extremely wary of all blond assistants.

And finally, I'm glad that even the guy who referred to me as a 'talentless, bitter twink' said I could turn a phrase. Awww, shucks, thanks for the back-handed, vaguely homophobic compliment.

So in conclusion:
Oopsie, sorry.
I'm not evil.
I'm THAT popular?
F*ck off.

10:23 AM

Blogger Security Dog said...

Having sat through four meetings with the creatures AA lampoons here, I can assure all and sundry that they do not need anything more to make them schizophrenic. To have people constantly badger you with "so who else are you seeing, huh huh???...who else has got it...huh huh..??" whilst at the same time telling you that you are a creative wunderkind who's output is "less than perfect, but workable"...even from the start it's divide and conquer. It makes your head hurt, and my impression of assistants in meetings is that they sit there and roll their eyes as their immediate 'superiors' miss point after point.

Or maybe that's just my poor writing technique and salemanship.

AA's choice to either self-implode or rocket to Agency stardom is his and his alone. Just leave the kid alone and let him entertain.

7:01 PM

Anonymous Joshua said...

Just out of curiosity, what is a philistine, anyway? I've heard that often but never had the courage to ask.

11:36 AM

Anonymous Anonymous said...

[[formerly Anon of 4:45pm]]
Woah, calm down my paranoid jobseekers. I should have been more clear, my apologies. What I was referring to wasn't really about looks. So all you other tall blond kids can relax. And no, I don't think you have a big agent and other exec following on your blog (though I'd bet you have a pretty big assistant following). However, I do know that references are checked incredibly thoroughly. Some references from certain former employers are more odd than others. Even assuming Sloane followed through with your arrangement (which I wouldn't put money on), would the reference that comes from blackmail be equal to one that didn't?

to the doof who was Anon at 4:56--I guess the words "machine", "sabotaged", and the 1984 reference weren't enough to enlighten you to the fact that I have no power. Even if for some strange reason I was in the position to give a positive referral, wouldn't it be a little sketchy to do it midway into the hiring process? And what if I was asked how I knew him? You want to me to make up a whole load of shit for someone whose blog I read?

and to joshua--ever heard of you don't need courage, just use the frickin resource you're already sitting in front of!

12:46 PM

Anonymous Time on my hands said...

12:46 Anon, Artist formerly known as Anon 4:46...

I want to read more of you. Pass the blogging torch!

10:54 AM


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