the jolsons


Terry Pratchett, “Mrs Bradshaw’s Handbook”
(Illustrations by Peter Dennis)

An illustration of the Ankh-Morpork train station, and some ads for food you can buy there.  There’s some great details in the top picture, including a zombie and a dwarf lady.  Also I love how Verity Pushpram was just mentioned briefly as someone who Nobby Nobbs didn’t want to consider dating because of her eye issues (although he thought she was sweet on him because she threw decent fish at him), but then became a repeat cameo background character who’s a very successful businesswoman that Nobby would be lucky to date.  And ALSO, All Jolson!  A dark-skinned Howondalandian immigrant, who got in on the railway catering business on the ground floor!  Hurray for a diverse cast!


I remember when we were rehearsing the hotel scene, he [Mike Nichols] took me into a corner and said, ‘Do you remember the first time you had any action at all?’ And I said yeah. It was a sweater feel. I was in junior high school, playing the piano, doing Al Jolson in blackface, if you can believe that, and this girl was in the show, and we were waiting to be called. And we’re kind of attracted to each other, but I can’t get too close to her because of the blackface. And somehow, at one point, I put my hand on her breast.

“Mike said, 'Let’s do that scene again, and do that to Annie. Don’t tell her. Just find a place to do it.’ So I got up behind her, and just as she takes her sweater off, I put my hand on her breast. And she was brilliant. She just looked at it, and then went back to her sweater, taking a stain out or something. And I started to break. I took my hand off her breast and I turned away and thought, I’m gonna get fired, because breaking is the worst thing you can do. I turned my back on her and Nichols and walked over to the wall and started banging my head against it. And he goes into hysterics. He said, ’That’s in the movie.’

- Dustin Hoffman 

April Showers (Jumin x MC)

As you get ready in the morning you begin to sing, not expecting a duet.

Word Count: 548

Hi! I hope you’ve had a wonderful day! I was wondering if you guys would like for me to bring in other stories onto my A03, meaning they aren’t related to Mystic Messenger. The ones I’m thinking of possibly transferring are from Danganronpa and Until Dawn. Let me know if you’d like me to do so! Thank you! 

Also, the song used in this prompt is April Showers originally written by Al Jolson, though the version specifically referenced in this prompt is that sung by Frank Sinatra in 1947

The link is here 


You had woken in the morning, your husband always up and about as you swung your legs over the bed, rubbing your eyes groggily. 

“Did I…sleep late?” You muttered, looking up as he greeted you, placing a fond kiss to your head. 

“Not by much darling, don’t worry.” He cooed, continuing on getting ready, your heavy feet dragging off towards the bathroom.

You reached out a small brush and ran it through your hair, morning light pouring through the window, a warmth decorating your skin.

It let a sort of comfort sink into your body, a small song slipping from your lips, simply a hum at first., eventually growing. 

“Though April showers may come your way.                                                         They bring the flowers that bloom in May,”                                  

You began to sway as the music played in your head, the song seeping from the bathroom to the home as a whole. 

So it was only a matter of time until your husband noticed.

You stepped from side to side, feet tracing about almost like a ballroom against the tile floor. 

“So if it’s raining have no regrets.                                                                                   Because it isn’t raining rain you know, it’s raining violets.”                 

You hardly noticed Jumin peering to you, a softness painting his expression as you danced across the room, your voice gentle.      

He entered the room, joining his, albeit much quieter.

“And where you see clouds upon the hills,                                                                    you soon will see crowds of daffodils.” 

He took your hand in his, pulling you close as he spun you about, the two of you dancing in the bright room.

You were almost too nervous for a second, erupting into a small laughter as you buried your head in the crook of his neck.

“Do you not want to sing with me? I thought we made a great duet love.” 

You snickered, lifting your head and pressing a kiss to his nose, squeezing his hand. 

“I’m just not used to having such a star singer with me!” You beamed, your feet pinned against his, following his swaying steps. 

“Surely you don’t mean me because I’m hardly anything notable.” He exclaimed, spinning you once again.

“I don’t think so!” 

“And you seemingly amaze me once again.” 

And you both continued to sing, seemingly a lullaby as droplets of rain dotted the glass. 

“So keep on looking for a bluebird                                                                                and listening for his song                                                                                                  whenever April showers come along.” 

And even as the hazy rain came above, you both had never felt warmer than you did with each other. 

For you were the other’s sun.

knucklesandgyros  asked:

An also something to add about Mel Brooks -- he's a WWII veteran. He was a combat engineering who was responsible for defusing land mines (!!) and fought in the Battle of the Bulge. And he used to troll the shit out of the German armies too. Like when they'd be playing their propaganda out on loudspeakers, he set up his own loudspeaker system and would play Al Jolson (a Jewish musician) records to troll them right back (though I'm sure someone will paint Brooks as racist for this)

Mel Brooks is a national treasure and I will fuck up anybody who trashes him.

His Grace, His Excellency, The Duke of Ankh, Blackboard Monitor, Commander Sir Samuel Vimes hears the news and stops in his tracks. No. Not now! Not when things are finally coming together, the Watch is working like a well-oiled machine that only occasionally loses a spring, the dwarfs and trolls are finally managing to not kill each other on sight, the railroad is improving the quality of life for people disc-wide, why does he have to die now? Why can’t he live longer and enjoy the fruits of his labor? Years of coppering have taught Sam Vimes that life is not fair, and that good people don’t always get the happy endings they deserve. He thought he was immune to bad news by now, but this news… well, this news hit him in the face like a half-brick. He feels the half-empty bottle of Jimson’s calling to him from his desk drawer. If he deserves to get drunk any time, it is now. But no. No. He wouldn’t want me to. I won’t.




Lord Vetinari steeples his fingers on his desk, lost in thought. The Ankh-Morpork Times lies in front of him, open to the crossword, which is blank. Drumknott enters and clears his throat softly.

“Not in the mood for the crossword today, Sir?”

Vetinari looks up.

“No. I think… I think that I do not have the mind for it. Not today.”




Dear Mume and, Dad

Thinggs in, the Watch are doing, well. I was prommoted to Akting-comander while, Commmander Vimes was away. WEe are, all very happy he is back and, theyr is no mowr troublble with, the Dwarfs and the kinge is safe.

I hav also,summe very sad news to shayre. Sirr Terry Pratchett, ov the Roundworld, hahs mette up withe, Death. WEe are, all verryy, saddened bye thys newse.

i hope things at howm are, good and the new mine iss succesfule.

Yr loving sone,





“What do you think, Fred?” Nobby Nobbs, purportedly-human member of the Watch, asks.

“I think that All Jolson would be very happy to give officers of the city a free lunch, on the house, as it were.”

“No, Fred, I mean about the news!”

“The news? Oh, of course, the news.” Fred tries to give his partner a knowing wink. He succeeds, in a sense. He looks much like a man who knows he is constipated.

“You mean you haven’t heard? Why did you think Mister Vimes is so upset?”

“Well… because he’s Mister Vimes?”

Nobby considers this for a moment, and nods. “Good point. But today he has an extra reason to be upset.”

“Really? Are the undead trying to push another vampire into the watch? Sally is great and all, but I agree with Mister Vimes, there’s something creepy about those buggers.”

“Fred, stop for a moment and listen, will you?” Nobby turns and looks Fred in the eyes. This is quite a feat, as most people, even Nobby’s friends, do anything to avoid looking Nobby in the eyes.

“Sir Terry Pratchett has died, Fred!”

Fred sits down heavily. “…Oh. I don’t think I want to go to All Jolson’s after all…”




Lady Sybil Vimes takes a moment to compose herself. The news is terrible, but Ramkin women are tough, bred to send their husbands off to war happily and bury their remains happily when they return. She sniffs, dabs her eyes, and pastes a smile on her face. Sam will need her.




Angua von Uberwald cannot contain herself. She paces back and forth, forth and back, over and over. Finally, she gives it up as a lost cause. She goes to her room, strips off her clothes, and changes to wolf. Chasing chickens always helps her take her mind off things. She makes sure to note where each chicken comes from so she can pay for them later. It’s what he would have wanted her to do.




Blind Io turns to face the newcomer, his many eyes floating into position to get a better look.

Fate looks up from the game board, and the Lady smiles.

Offler offers something that might be a welcoming grin, but it is hard to tell exactly on his crocodile face. He shifts over to make some room.

Sir Terry Pratchett walks forward and takes his place at the table.


“See, this is what the people want. Silent pictures are yesterday’s news. So, I figure we’ve got to reshoot Hell’s Angels for sound.”
“…How much of it?”
“All of it. Before you ask, I’ll tell you, an additional $1.7 million. We got that much?”
“Well, we’ll make it.”

The Jazz Singer (1927) in The Aviator (2004)