AN: You can watch Extras S02E03 (available on Dailymotion for free) if you want to.
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The episode of Extras began like any other. Ricky Gervais' character, Andy Millman, a sitcom actor on a cringeworthy TV show, sat among fellow actors, doing a ridiculous impression of a fat middle-aged man with an awful afro and an even worse punchline:
"Are you having a laugh?"
His bumbling agent, played by Stephen Merchant, was as incompetent as ever. Andy had landed a film role, and his agent was negotiating the deal.
"So how much will you be paying him?" Merchant paused before laughing. "You've got more money than sense, mate." Another pause, then suddenly serious: "No, I'm his agent."
Alicia and Charlie burst into laughter. Merchant's comic timing was as sharp as ever.
The episode continued with its usual dry, awkward humor. There was no laugh track—unlike most sitcoms—but that didn't matter. The absurdity of the characters had the couple barely able to suppress their laughter.
Then came a new scene.
"Let's talk business. Would you like to spend three days with Billie Piper?" Merchant asked Gervais.
"Billie Piper?" Ricky raised an eyebrow.
"The little magical kid with glasses," Merchant clarified.
"You mean Harry Potter?"
"Yes."
Alicia laughed out loud, but Charlie didn't. He shot her a suspicious look.
"Ali, is there something about this episode I should know?"
She smirked. "Just watch."
Charlie turned back to the screen, eyes narrowing.
The scene shifted to a movie set, where Gervais and Merchant stood beside Warwick Davis. The dwarf actor was in a scene with his regular-sized fiancée when Merchant, ever the tactless agent, spotted him and blurted out:
"Oh! Midget!"
Ricky immediately went pale.
Alicia and Charlie cracked up. Extras wasn't making fun of dwarfs—it was making fun of how people awkwardly navigated conversations about them.
Then, the next guest star walked onto the screen.
Charlie groaned. "What the fuck!?" He turned to Alicia. "You knew he'd be in this episode, didn't you?"
Alicia shrugged innocently. "I had forgotten."
"Forgotten, my arse." Charlie glared at the screen, where Troy Armitage and Warwick Davis were launching into a scene together. "You just can't escape this guy, can you? Movies—he's in them. Radio—his songs are everywhere. Talk shows, tabloids, and now TV shows too?"
"Calm down, Char," Alicia said, rolling her eyes. "Or go away and let me watch in peace."
"Whatever," Charlie grumbled. "I know he won't be funny." Even if Troy was funny, Charlie was determined not to laugh.
On-screen, a crew member adjusted Troy's shirt.
He flashed her a grin. "Are you married, by any chance?"
"Yes," the girl replied.
Troy looked put out for a second before nodding resolutely.
"That won't stop me. A ring don't mean a thing."
He flashed a lecherous smile at the crew member, only for her to give him an irritated look, turn around, and walk away.
"Hey, listen here, I was talk—great! Just ignore me like every other girl."
Alicia burst out laughing at Troy's impeccable comic timing. Even Charlie, despite his best efforts, couldn't help but crack a smile.
The next scene didn't make it any easier for him.
Troy wandered over to Maggie, Ricky's friend and a lowly extra on set.
"Is this chair free?" He pointed at the empty seat across from her.
"Yeah."
Dressed in an absolutely ridiculous Boy Scout uniform—complete with knee-high shorts—Troy dragged the chair uncomfortably close to Maggie and sat down, leaning forward conspiratorially.
"How are you doing?"
Maggie looked at him warily. "Great." She went back to her magazine.
Troy removed his glasses with exaggerated drama. "Oh, I still have these on? I don't need them. They're only for the character."
Maggie barely acknowledged him. Undeterred, Troy pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered her one.
"I don't smoke," she said flatly.
"Good girl. I should probably cut down too." He nodded sagely.
The awkwardness was reaching unbearable levels—so naturally, Troy escalated.
"I've done it with a girl, you know." He puffed up. "Intercourse-wise. So if you're looking for something like that—"
A voice rang out from offscreen.
"Troy!"
Troy closed his eyes in defeat before chucking the cigarette pack onto Maggie's lap.
"It's my mum. Say they're yours."
A middle-aged woman stormed over, eyes narrowed. "What are you doing?"
Troy, now the picture of innocence, straightened up. "Nothing. She was trying to give me fags." He pointed at Maggie.
Maggie was stunned. "I was not!"
Troy's mother gasped and turned on her. "You should know better. You're old enough to be his mother."
Troy nodded gravely. "And she was trying to have it off with me."
Without missing a beat, his mother shot Maggie a venomous look before turning to Troy, "Of course she was, you're bloody gorgeous." She grabbed Troy by the arm. "Come on, you."
As the scene ended, Charlie completely forgot his promise to remain unimpressed. He was howling with laughter alongside Alicia.
"Holy shit! I had no idea Troy was this funny!" Alicia gasped between fits of giggles. "His comic timing is unreal. Oh God, I haven't laughed this much in ages."
Charlie wiped a tear from his eye and, with as much dignity as he could muster, said nonchalantly, "Well, obviously it was funny. Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant wrote it."
Alicia smirked. "You're such an asshole. You can't even admit you liked his acting."
Charlie gestured at the screen. "Better an honest asshole than that guy." He paused. "I mean the character. Not the multi-millionaire actor."
Alicia rolled her eyes but let it go, settling in to enjoy the rest of the episode.
The hilarity only continued. Troy accidentally flung an unrolled condom onto Dame Diana Rigg's head, and she proceeded to torture him by pedantically correcting his grammar.
And then, as Extras always did, it took a sharp turn into pitch-black cringe humor. Andy Millman, oblivious as ever, unknowingly complained about a kid with Down syndrome in a restaurant—only to find himself at the center of a national scandal.
When the show returned to the movie set, Alicia realized something: she was secretly craving Troy's scenes. Every moment he appeared, the humor went up a notch.
Like the time he hit on Warwick Davis' fiancée.
When Warwick confronted him later, Troy's response was nothing short of genius.
"Mum?" he asked hesitantly, his voice dripping with faked innocence.
"Don't call for your mum! You were chatting up my fiancée, so deal with the consequences like a man!" Warwick shot back.
As Andy Millman attempted to de-escalate the situation, Warwick turned on him instead. One thing led to another, and Andy accidentally kicked him—causing Warwick Davis to faint on the spot.
While the crew scrambled to wake him up, Troy leaned over to Dame Diana Rigg, whispering with a smirk:
"Do you still have that catsuit from The Avengers?"
Without missing a beat, Diana Rigg deadpanned, "Go away, Troy."
Charlie burst out laughing. "This guy is mad horny. Didn't even spare Diana Rigg."
Alicia snorted. "True."
The episode continued, serving up more absurdity and cringe-worthy misfortune for Andy Millman—exactly what Extras did best. By the time the credits rolled, Alicia turned to her boyfriend with a knowing smirk.
"So?" she asked. "Still think Troy is overrated?"
Charlie hesitated before exhaling through his nose. "His comedy isn't bad." It was the closest thing to a compliment he'd allow. "But the amount of attention he gets is just… too much for a single kid."
Alicia shrugged. "I heard from some unconfirmed sources that he's doing a comedy movie."
Charlie mulled that over. "Maybe we'll go see it when it comes out." His tone was nonchalant, but deep down, he was already looking forward to it.
Not that he'd ever admit it to Alicia.
Truth was, Troy Armitage was a damn good actor. A solid singer too. He'd heard a couple of his songs—not that he'd say so out loud—but they were catchy.
Maybe that's why half the world was obsessed with him. The kid was just too good at what he did.
(Break)
The third episode of Extras Series 2, titled Troy Armitage, aired on September 28, 2006.
Typically, Extras pulled in between 3.5 and 4 million viewers—solid numbers for the UK, where the population was significantly smaller than the US. Anything over 3 million was respectable, but for a comedian of Ricky Gervais' caliber, it was a bit underwhelming. After all, The Office finale had attracted over 6 million viewers. To see Extras struggle despite being just as funny was frustrating.
The reason? The show's premise. Extras revolved around the entertainment industry—a world most people weren't familiar with or particularly interested in. In contrast, The Office had a universal setting anyone could relate to.
Because of this, the creators expected Troy Armitage to perform just like the first two episodes of the season, which had featured major guest stars like Orlando Bloom and David Bowie.
But when the ratings came in, no one was more shocked than Ricky Gervais.
"I can't believe it," he said to Stephen Merchant, staring at the numbers in disbelief. "This is the ninth episode of the show, and not even the pilot had this kind of response. And look at the demographics—most of the viewers were female! Does that guy hypnotize women or something? How does he do that?"
Stephen shrugged. "Does it matter? This is fantastic news. A rating of 6.4 million viewers is outstanding. If we keep this momentum, we might actually get a third season."
That was the harsh reality. The BBC had made it clear—if the show didn't average at least 4 million viewers, there would be no third series. This episode might be exactly what they needed to push past that threshold.
Ricky sighed. "Too bad we can't get Troy back for another episode next season."
A-list movie stars rarely did recurring roles on TV, and even if he was willing, Extras thrived on one-off celebrity appearances.
Still, for one night, Extras had outperformed expectations—and it was all thanks to a teenage superstar who, apparently, had half the nation's women under his spell.
(Break)
I walked into the house, seething, soaked from head to toe after a few neighborhood kids had ambushed me with water balloons.
"I'll show those little assholes," I muttered under my breath, stomping toward my room.
As I peeled off my wet shirt, I caught my reflection in the mirror. I hadn't lost too much muscle definition yet, which was part of why this scene was being shot now. The writers had asked during revisions if I'd be comfortable with the change.
I know how this sounds, but I also know the reality—my female fans were eager to see me shirtless, and I was too proud of my body to deny them the view. If a single scene could add to the total revenue, I wasn't about to argue.
That's why we were shooting it like this.
Grabbing a towel, I wiped the excess water from my torso when Scarlett suddenly burst into my place, heading straight for my room.
"What do you think you're doing?" I shouted as she yanked my iPod from the dock.
I lunged to snatch it back, holding it behind my back. Scarlett wrestled me for it, her hands brushing over my chest in a way I strongly suspected wasn't entirely accidental. Still, I stayed in character, keeping the iPod just out of her reach.
Caruso had given us little direction beyond a brief explanation of the scene. He wanted us to improvise, to make the reactions as natural as possible.
Suddenly, Scarlett's eyes widened as she glanced past me out the window.
"Oh my God!" she gasped.
I instinctively turned. "What?"
The moment I realized my mistake, it was too late.
She grinned triumphantly, now holding my iPod over the balcony.
"Back off, or I'll drop it where you can't follow," she threatened.
I raised my hands, trying to stay calm. "That's 60 gigs of my life."
"Even better." Her smirk deepened.
The argument shifted to her party—the one I wasn't allowed to attend because I was stuck at home.
"If you're so busy enjoying yourself, don't keep looking up at me, trying to get a rise out of me," I snapped.
Her expression darkened. "So you were watching me."
I hesitated.
"How long?" she pressed. "Just tonight? A week? Two weeks? Since I moved in?"
I opened my mouth, then closed it again. No words came.
"Answer me!" she demanded. "What else have you seen?"
"I've seen a lot," I admitted before shaking my head quickly. "I mean—not like that."
I took a deep breath, steadying myself for the next part—my big romantic monologue.
"You're probably one of three people in the world who actually likes pizza-flavored chips. You spend more time on your roof than inside your house. You love reading books…"
I started pacing as I rattled off all the strange little details my character had noticed about her over the past month.
When I was done, we stood there, staring at each other for a long moment. Then she took a step forward.
"That's either the creepiest… or the sweetest thing I've ever heard."
With each word, she moved closer, until she was right in front of me. Bridging the gap, she pressed her lips against mine.
She had come prepared for the scene—her strawberry-flavored lip balm lingered on my lips as I kissed her back with equal fervor. Still, I was mindful to keep my tongue as far away from her mouth as possible.
Slowly, I led Scarlett into the room toward my bed, pressing soft kisses against her lips. She fell back onto the mattress as I hovered over her and kissed her again—
"Cut!"
Caruso's voice cut through the moment, stopping me mid-action.
Scarlett and I sat up quickly, both of us turning to find the director approaching with a nervous expression.
"Scarlett, you're doing great." Then, after a pause, he looked at me. "Troy," he said cautiously, "can we talk for a second?"
Ah. Someone had learned his lesson. I nodded and followed him to the corner of the room.
"Yes?" I asked curtly.
I didn't like the man, but I couldn't deny he was the director. If I let my ego interfere, the only thing that would suffer was the film.
"You're not kissing Scarlett with enough passion," Caruso said bluntly. "As a viewer, I don't feel the chemistry I should when I watch you two kiss. And Scarlett is trying her best. Believe me."
"This isn't a romance movie," I pointed out.
"True." Caruso nodded. "But didn't you say you wouldn't half-ass your job just because this isn't some artsy, award-focused film?"
Damn it. He had me there.
As an actor, my job was to make every scene believable.
I'd already done thee romantic roles—in Perks, Echoes, and Half-Blood Prince. But those scenes had been easier. I'd known all three of my scene partners for years. Even though Emma and I had broken up during filming Perks, I was so used to kissing her that I barely even registered it while shooting, even for the kissing scenes filmed after our breakup. Plus, I hadn't been in a relationship with someone else during those films.
This was different.
Scarlett and I had only just gotten to know each other. And this felt… a little too much like cheating on Rihanna.
Still, Caruso was right. This was all for the movie's sake. I sighed and nodded. "Okay. I'll make it more realistic."
Caruso's face lit up with approval. "Good. You know, most actors who have problem with the scene, just make out for real—tongue and all. Forget this is a set. Kiss her like you're on a date and just dropping her home."
I didn't respond. Just turned on my heel and walked back to Scarlett. This was already awkward enough without our tongues involved.
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AN: Visit my Pat reon to read ahead, or check out my second Hollywood story set in the 80s.
Link: www(dot)pat reon(dot)com/fableweaver