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“We’ve got a great night planned for you, so stick around!” a dark haired, bespeckled man shouts from center stage. “I’m gonna let you in on a secret,” he continues. “I went to secondary school with one of the cast members here, and one of the skits you’ll see tonight-- and I’m not going to tell you which one-- might have some truth to it. Panic! at the Disco is here, everyone! I’m so thrilled to be hosting SNL, and we’ll be right back after the break!”
The red lights of a dozen cameras blink off, the film crew adjusting settings as cue cards are shuffled and stagehands rush from wing to wing. The dark haired man-- the host-- stands still and a little stunned in front of the whooping crowd, fingers fidgeting absently at the hem of his pockets.
Unbeknownst to all but a few amused colleagues, a pale, pointy brit watches on, eyes glued to the host and boasting a blush of his own.
All at once, a horde of production assistants leap into action, dragging the host backstage for a quick-change. Draco Malfoy, 4th season returning cast member and first-year head writer, is already in costume. His white-blond hair has been covered by a shoulder-length brown wig, and he wears a pin-stripe button-down untucked and unbuttoned down to his solar plexus. The trousers are patchwork, waist low and crotch lower, loose but cinching just above the lacing of black combat boots. It’s a look.
The curtains for the left stage are drawn, rippling occasionally from the flurry of movement hidden behind. Draco Malfoy closes the doors to the right wings behind him, entering backstage. The white-walled hallways of the studio accompany him around the back of the stage and towards the set. He shares a slap on the back with Seth Meyers as they pass near the Weekend Update office and then greets Kristen Wiig, Jason Sudeikis, and Fred Armisen where they are already lined up on the blocking tape of the left stage, prepping for the skit .
Harry Potter is there too, his unruly curls flattened down with a net, a cropped brown wig on top. His costume consists of black jeans and a denim jacket. Green eyes meet grey as the curtains open. Blinding lights and 300 cheers spur the actors on..
Fred Armisen clears his throat. “Wow, aren’t these cool! I heard the artist was nominated for an award!” He points to a series of neon splatter paintings hung on a brick wall. Kristen, Fred, Jason, and Harry lean in for a closer look.
“I don’t know,” Jason says after a moment of deliberation. “I’m pretty sure I made splatter paintings like this as a kid.”
“They have such an interesting texture,” Kristen notes. “I wonder what sort of paint was used.”
Draco dashes into frame from a curtained booth in the corner of the stage. An apron has been tied around his waist, the black linen dotted with electric blues and yellows. A bit of fluorescent orange has made its way to his cheek.
“Heyoo,” he says. “I hope you guys are enjoying the gallery! I was just about to start a demonstration, if one of you would like to volunteer to join me?”
Harry eyes him up and down, bushy eyebrows shooting up demonstratively. “I’d sure love to!”
“Radical!” Draco purrs. He pulls Harry towards the small booth, whispering something incomprehensible in his ear. Harry makes a choked off noise, nodding vigorously. Fred and Jason look at each other quizzically, shrugging.
Draco pulls a rickety stool from behind the white curtain that blocks the inside of the booth from the audience. Only the left side of the booth is open, and Harry sits facing it, turning towards the camera to check his cue cards.
With everyone distracted, Kristen steps closer to the display of paintings, reaching out with one finger, she pokes one, jumping back in surprise. Laughs from the audience echo around the studio.
Draco is busy re-tying the apron around his waist. “Right, right,” he says in an exaggerated American accent, “I’ll be showing you an example of my artistic process, but I’ll be using this gentleman here as my canvas! Don’t worry, it washes out!” Harry smirks as Jason and Fred share another look.
Kristen sneaks a glance inside the booth, nodding in enthusiasm. “I can’t wait to tell my art theory professor about this!” she says. “Using people as a canvas-- how novel. It really delves deep into our personal connection with our mediums and the humanity within abstractism.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jason says.
Draco disappears within the booth, now obscured from the audience. He rustles the curtain for a moment deliberately as he goes. Within, Bill Hader stands against the wall of the set. He hands Draco a mostly empty bottle of KY jelly silently. Draco shakes it close to the mic on his chest, loud enough for the audience to hear, before squeezing some out with a squelch. Bill giggles into his hands.
The cameras stay on Harry’s face, set in a smirk and eyes wide, and the audience laughs in confusion.
Draco rubs his lubed up hands together vigorously, and a wet thumping fills the studio. Bill suppresses his laughter with breath, beginning to moan and whimper with increasing gusto on Draco’s cue, still entirely hidden from the audience and cameras. Technically, Draco was meant to do this part too, but the sounds he had made during dress had been deemed ‘not lewd enough’, so Bill has been brought on as support.
Fred and Jason look duly horrified. “I really hope she does not tell her professor about this,” Fred mutters.
Kristen watches with rapt fascination. “What vision,” she whispers.
Harry is frozen, mouth slack and breathing fast. He makes a fuss about adjusting his pants. The audience has exploded into hysteria.
Behind the sheet, Bill picks up a modified squirt gun, counting down from three on his fingers. The cameras once again zero in on Harry..
Harry is forced to squeeze his eyes shut as neon goo squirts onto his face. A shower of pink glitter follows. The audience gasps before breaking into raucous screams. Harry licks his lips, and Fred and Jason leap back, shaking their legs wildly where some of the viscous bright green, purple, blue, yellow, orange, and red substance has splattered.
“Aughhh! What the…” Fred squeals.
“Why is it that color!” Jason shouts.
Draco appears once again in the view of the camera, fly undone, his eyes on Harry. He brings his nose close to Harry’s ear, mouthing words before running a finger across Harry’s soaked, sticky, and luridly rainbow cheek. Harry is pulled to standing, and he follows Draco back into the booth.
With that, the curtains close.