Jtwo Welcomes Intern Matthew Sullivan
SHARING PIECES
By Matthew Sullivan
As I was growing up my grandfather had a saying that he repeated to me over and over again – knowing I was the middle child of a big family and more than occasionally felt lost in the crowd: “You’re a combination of all these incredible people around you.” The idea was sometimes comforting and sometimes horrifying depending on how I felt about my family any given day. I clung to the idea as it gave me a sense of togetherness with my family, and provided me role models to look up to in my siblings. The concept of sharing qualities, interests, and points of view with those around me opened a world of new outlooks and took me from a little kid lost in the crowd to one learning from it. I have my older brother’s sense of humor, as I grew up desperately trying to make him laugh. I share in my sister’s relentless sense of empathy, and therefore her unending passion for social justice. Even my closet is full of vintage pants, t-shirts, and Hawaiian shirts after raiding my grandfathers’ closets to emulate, and revamp, their styles. These pieces, which I originally only emulated, eventually built a strong perspective and sense of self as I’ve grown and made them my own.
The idea of people having the power to influence each other is something that has always guided me creatively, personally, and socially. I’ve always kept in mind that my passions, interests, beliefs, and actions can all be shared to benefit those around me in the same way I’ve benefitted from others. This sense of impact whether it be with family, friends, or neighbors I barely know, has guided me to use film as a tool for change. Through storytelling, whether it be commercial, narrative, or documentary, we can communicate our struggles and solutions, and more importantly we can share in common experiences. In doing so difficult events, subjects, and possibilities can be dealt with and evaluated in a safe environment. These pieces of ourselves, whether they’re positive or negative, simple or complex, can be shared through stories in the same way they can be shared through personal relationships – and I think that holds a power to represent every community.
Though I don’t specifically know where I’m going with my journey in the film industry, I know that I’m bringing a piece of every single person who’s influenced me along for the ride. Whether I end up a Producer, a DP, or something else entirely different down the line, my goal, as vague and simple as it is, is to use the pieces of those around me and share them with others. When I work on social justice documentaries I hope a piece of my sister’s passion for others shines through, and when I’m working on a short or music video for YouTube I’m simply trying to make my brothers laugh. These pieces of others that I see in myself motivate me and help me keep my perspective.
I want to create work that reflects the incredible friendships, families, and communities that I’ve been a part of. This guided me to interning with JTwo, as their work brings attention to the stories of different communities, and brings to light issues and experiences that may not currently be solvable, but must be talked about, evaluated, and felt. The work JTwo does through its internship program specifically interested me as it not only gives young creators the space to figure out the route they want to take, but provides the steps and lessons required to get there. I see this internship as an opportunity to learn and develop both personally and creatively, and I couldn’t be more excited or thankful for the opportunity or to see what the next twelve weeks hold in store.
This project was created as part of the JTWO [INC]ubator Project. A semester long internship program built from the ground up to give young filmmakers, content creators, and all around hungry for a challenge individuals a place to stretch their creative minds while preparing them for the road ahead.
JTWO's [INC]ubator Project Brings You "The Journey: Rachel's Story"
GO DEEPER
From the beginning, I knew I wanted a change of pace for this project. I’d spent the last year or so working on a narrative film as my thesis for college, and by the time I was done, the thought of doing another narrative piece made me want to tear my hair out. Don’t get me wrong, I love narrative work with all of my heart, but I was just so burnt out. Naturally, I shifted to another form that I greatly admire, documentary. I wanted to do a piece on an individual or organization that really stood out to me. I wanted to tell someone’s story and be able to give them a piece that they can use on social media doing just that. I soon ended up with the idea to do a piece around tattooing. I’ve always loved tattoos and have long admired the large amount of skill and effort that goes into making pieces of art become a part of someone’s body. I spent so much time in my adolescent years watching various tattooing tv shows (Best Ink, LA Ink, Ink Master, to name a few), daydreaming of what I’d get tattooed on my body once I was old enough. I think young Lauren would be a little disheartened to know that she’d still only have one tattoo by the age of 23, but hey, quality work is expensive, and rightfully so.
Seeing so many memes and forums dedicated to exposing people trying to shortchange artists for their work has gotten me more and more fired up as time has gone by. Being an artist myself has only increased my awareness of it. A field I see so often treated this way is body modification, specifically tattooing. In the age of cheap piercing guns at malls and anyone being able to buy tattooing and piercing equipment online, the value of these skills seems to have decreased. Sure, it’s great that these things are accessible, but the appreciation of quality work has also decreased. I can’t even count the amount of times I’ve seen friends and acquaintences get poorly-executed tattoos or piercings because they were cheap, resulting in infections, blurry lines, regrets, and keloids alike. That, and many years ago body modification was seen as reserved only for “bad people”. If you had a tattoo, you were up to no good. I knew that once I thought about doing a piece on tattooing, I had to do it. It’s my belief that the more exposure that can be given to the art and artisans in this field, the more people will come to accept and value the practice as an art form. I think it’s worked so far in the grand scheme of things! With each generation, more people are expressing themselves through body modification. So that was my plan. Once I figured this out, I still had one issue: Who do I do a piece about? I had several different ideas, but the one that stuck out to me the most was reaching out to an old friend from high school: Rachel Friel.
I’ve always admired Rachel throughout our time in school. If you had asked me to give an example of someone “cool” during this time, my answer would have been them, hands down. As someone who struggled with fitting in and suppressing who I was, I was in awe of the way they expressed themselves. They just seemed to march to the beat of their own drum, and that alone was badass to me. Rachel was also one of the most talented people I’d met during this time. Whenever I’d see anything they’d be working on I would ooh and aah over the quality of it. I knew they’d go places. Going forward, I kept tabs on Rachel’s journey through art school as mine progressed as well. I found that their journey of figuring out what the right path was for them reminded me of my own. When I saw Rachel had started tattooing over at Ahava I was thrilled! I had reached out to them a bit before even starting the internship to tell them that I was so happy to see that they were doing something with their artistic skills that really seemed to be something they love doing. It made me so happy to see them find their niche. I think small Lauren and small Rachel (pictured below) would be stoked to see just how awesome the quality of current Rachel’s work would be.
My biggest piece of advice: Have all of your ducks in a row before you pitch an idea. This just isn’t for future interns at JTwo, but everyone ever all the time always. This was my biggest mistake, and it lost me the entire first week of my 2-week period for this project and set me back substantially. I had waited to hear back from a potential subject for my documentary for a whole week with no response, and did not get an answer until that point. My line of thinking had been that I should wait until my pitch was approved so I don’t seem like I’m flaking on a potential subject if it isn’t up to par, but in trying to be considerate to others, the whole thing just kinda blew up in my face. Not fun. Thankfully, I was also considering Rachel at the time, and quickly reached out to them. They were gracious enough to let me poke around their apartment and Ahava on such short notice, and I’m very thankful for it. Having your head in the game is more than just lining up your documentary subject, however. I’m talking about shot lists, storyboards, call sheets, equipment lists, the whole thing. Thinking of these things in advance is something I’m getting better at, but wish I had down to more of a science like my co-intern Lana does. (I was in her project, so I got to see her organizational skills firsthand.) Seriously. Planning is so much of the battle. It’s nice to have everything in order when you step on set so you can really just focus on what you’re doing in the moment. All in all, I think I’ve learned so much during this process, and at JTwo in general. Sometimes the important lessions are learned the hard way, but even when you mess up and lose an entire week on your project you can always pull yourself together and do your best, learning from your mistake going forward. It can feel hard to admit that you messed up (in any way), but it’s more freeing when you acknowledge it, learn from it, and let it go as you move forward.
Meet the Director
Lauren Koob is a recent graduate of the University of the Arts in Philadelphia, with both a BFA in Film and a BFA in Acting. She seeks to create work that is rooted in the exploration of the depths of the human condition and hopes to show through her work in directing and cinematography what she believes to be beautiful.
This project was created as part of the JTWO [INC]ubator Project. A semester long internship program built from the ground up to give young filmmakers, content creators, and all around hungry for a challenge individuals a place to stretch their creative minds while preparing them for the road ahead.
Credits
Writer and Director – Lauren Koob
Cinematographer – Lauren Koob
Editor – Lauren Koob
Editor – Lana Duda
Sound: Audrey Zycinsky
Talent: Rachel Friel
Music by Dani Jalali – “NY Girl”
Music by Capt QUBZ – “Get Down”
Music by Rex Banner – “Easy Money”
Music by Ziv Moran – “Listed Thoughts”
Jtwo Welcomes Intern Lauren Koob
FIRE AND FILMMAKING
By Lauren Koob
For as long as I can remember of my 23 years, I’ve been labeled as “difficult” by others. Passionate, over-emotional, fiery, intense, whatever word you want to use for it. It was what frustrated teachers who didn’t have answers to my constant questions and irritated other kids. It was what I was told made things hard for me with socialization overall. When working in groups, I was labeled as “bossy” because I usually had a vision for whatever was being done, artistic or otherwise, and would give people directions. And yet, it was also praised by those same teachers, who would remark to my mother that I was the best out-loud reader in class, that I was the best kid to pair up a new student with, that I was a “pleasure to have in class”. It was confusing, to say the least. The same parts of myself that were applauded in gifted and talented programs and drama club were shunned in my realm of human interaction. This confusion added fuel to the fire, and led me to be even more of a “difficult child”. My angry crying when some boy would make a snarky remark in class increased tenfold, and I grew frustrated with myself. Over time, I grew tired of crying, tired of being the difficult girl, and by the time I was in high school, I wasn’t even myself. I was a shell of the person I was as a child, a mere flame compared to the roaring fire that I came into the world as. I became quiet and docile. I started to stutter when reading aloud in class. I sweat bullets any time someone spoke to me, regardless of who they were. But I was finally no longer “difficult”. In cutting out this part of myself, I had lost touch with who I was as a person, and began to question everything about myself. It was only in the world of art that I still felt that connection to the child I had been a long time ago. It was acting and film that kept me tethered to that last piece of myself left.
By the end of my time in high school, I had grown bored with trying to fly under the radar. I wore weird clothes and strange hairstyles and said obscene things to make people laugh or get pissed off. I reveled in making people angry, a complete 180 from before. So when it came time to pick what to do with my life, I threw caution to the wind and kicked up even more of a storm than I usually did by deciding to go to art school. I was still an anxious little clam, though, so the concept of becoming a filmmaker and potentially being labeled as “bossy” again still scared me, despite my volatile fashion choices and sailor’s mouth. I decided instead to go to school for acting, and ended up at the University of the Arts (which I just graduated from) here in Philadelphia. Yet, I soon found myself deeply unsatisfied with just doing Acting Major things, and declared myself a film minor my first semester of freshman year. During the single film class I had, something had awakened in me. At the end of the year, I sat down in my advisor’s office and felt a question jolt through me out of nowhere:
“Can I be an Acting Major and a Film Major?”
The short answer was no. The long answer is that the two programs did not mesh schedule-wise, and there seemed to be some resistance towards the idea in general, as it had never been done before. Both my Acting and Film advisors were invested in the idea, though, so the three of us collectively pushed to change the system. I had chosen the school due to their narrative of interdepartmental and interdisciplinary crossover, so why not? It was exciting for all of us, and for once, it felt like I was being truly commended for pushing for what I want. From the beginning, I knew I would have to tack on an extra year of school to pull it off and go over the regular credit limit some semesters, but I had made peace with that. And so… it happened, making me the first of my kind at the University. Most of my time was spent running down Broad Street, booking it from my Stage Combat classes five blocks away to make it in time for Film History or anything else in that vein. Moving forward, I noticed that despite my constant grind, some professors didn’t take me as seriously as other students. At first, I had thought it was due to some lack of skill of mine, or the fact that I was originally just an Acting Major. I distanced myself from my theater school identity when in my film classes and pushed to learn everything I could, but soon realized it wasn’t my acting history; it was that I was female and the students that were treated like actual filmmakers were mostly male.
Growing up, I was the filmmaker of the house. Armed with a small digital camera (one which would be replaced every couple of years due to their inevitably short lifespan back then), basic editing software, and a bored friend or two, I made my first works as a filmmaker. Music video remakes, dramatic puppeted movies using American Girl Dolls as our actors, fake talk shows where I hosted; these were the works that came out of my adolescent mind. I commanded the controls of my ancient version of Windows Moviemaker with the ease of a expert pianist performing for thousands and churned out my 480p masterpieces. Sadly, many of these were lost to time and outdated technology, but honestly… it might be better that way. Those that have survived on old flash drives and laptops are cringeworthy at best, but it’s still nice to have something to look back on. And when I wasn’t making, I was acting in the yearly musical at school and watching anything I could get my hands on. I anguished over not being old enough as an actress or filmmaker to contribute to my favorite films in the ways I knew how. I lamented over the fact that I wasn’t swordfighting or directing a crazy scene or being hailed as my generation’s next big creator. But even during my gripes, I felt more alive than I had felt since I was that child kicking up dirt and driving the adults around me crazy. I clinged to that.
This is by no means me condemning all men in the industry or my male/masculine presenting peers. Men are just as lovely and talented as women! But time spent in feminist film classes and having a space with my female/femme friends to discuss what had been happening to all of us made us realize that our experiences weren’t singular by any means. It was the realization that we were being treated differently that launched me back into my childhood self, full of angry tears. Suddenly I was the same little girl who clenched her fists and demanded respect and an apology from a kid who said something I was told to ignore. I had grown tired of sitting by and letting my friends and I be disrespected, treated like we weren’t real filmmakers and that our work made about the female experience was inferior. Many of us chose to channel this into our work, myself included. But I was also not afraid to speak up. It was during this experience that I truly felt myself become free of my fear of being seen as a “nuisance”, and I realized why I had been labeled the way I have been my whole life.
Because I am female.
Knowing that there wasn’t something wrong with me, that if a boy were to do any of the things that I did which were considered “troublesome”, he would be applauded for “strong leadership skills” or “good character”– it was such a freeing realization. To know that I’m not wrong, but the patriarchal standards set for women, especially in the film industry, are wrong was mind-blowing. I started to actually believe the things I had been telling myself for so long, like that I was talented and a good filmmaker. This whole epiphany came while filming my senior thesis project, and the difference in my presence as a director and filmmaker in general was palpable on set. I learned something valuable. That I need to walk into the room and know that I am talented, that I am of value, and that if whoever it is I may be auditioning for or applying to can’t see that, then there will be someone else who does. I think that’s such an empowering perspective to take. There is nothing to be gained professionally by downplaying your skills and making yourself lesser, aside from patriarchal approval. I have come to embrace who I am, flames and all. I don’t think it’s a bad thing to be passionate or intense or a leader or anything other than submissive and smiling as a woman. Those are qualities you need as a filmmaker, as an artist, as a person. As I’m writing this, I’m dealing with the internal struggle of “do I put this kind of thing out on the internet and potentially not get hired by someone because of it, or do I stay true to who I am and be open with that?” which is proof that I still have a lot of work to do, but I know I’ve come a long way. I’m not different from anyone else in that I have “too many” emotions or fire back when something upsets me. I am a person, just like men, just like other women, just like non-binary folks. It’s just in my nature to be more open about my thoughts and feelings, and I shouldn’t have to be ashamed of that. My journey as a woman and student of feminism and my journey as a filmmaker are so deeply tied together that if I were to separate the two for this, I think it would be a truly disingenuine representation of myself and the heart of my work. So here we are.
Wow, you made it through all of that! Now here’s the part you’re probably looking for: I am ridiculously excited to be interning at JTwo. I seek to create work that explores the depth and complexity of the human condition and am dedicated to raising the voices of those who cannot be or will not be heard in my work in both large and small ways. In addition to that, I have a passion for Stage Combat, and hope to have more opportunities to choreograph fights and expand my list of certifications so that I can use those skills in my work. I think combat is an extension of the extremes of human emotion, and am deeply fascinated by that. (Plus, I was raised by massive nerds, so my Lord of the Rings fangirl self has always loved it.) Overall, I just really want to tell a good story in the best way possible. It’s my belief that giving yourself to the story, to put your body and soul into your work, is one of the most selfless things possible that you can do as an artist. It’s not easy to be vulnerable, to let yourself dive all the way in, but the best work always seems to be made by those who put all of themselves on display and channel that into their creations. I think this philosophy reflects my work as both an actor and filmmaker, and why I was so drawn to this company. After all, “the story is everything”. If your heart and soul isn’t in the things you make, be it a feature film or just an introductory blog post for your internship that probably only five or so people will read, what’s the point?
This project was created as part of the JTWO [INC]ubator Project. A semester long internship program built from the ground up to give young filmmakers, content creators, and all around hungry for a challenge individuals a place to stretch their creative minds while preparing them for the road ahead.
Jtwo Welcomes Intern Lex Forge
THE TRAVELER - A SHORT AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL BLOG STORY
By Lex Forge
Character Description:
Lex Forge (male) – 21 Years Old
A Pennsylvania State University film major seeking inspiration
INT. BEDROOM – DAY
A man — early 20s, unshaven, disheveled hair — sits on the floor leaning against a bed. He’s occupied the same position for some time now. He sits unmoving, his eyes staring forward into space — they seem to be focused on everything and nothing at once. But his outward stillness is deceptive.
INT. THE MAN’S HEAD – DAY
He’s wading through a thick haze. The room is quiet but a low rumble fills his ears. It sounds like a muffled chattering, an ensemble of indecipherable voices. They coo, they hiss, but they remain unclear. There’s too many, only the occasional word cuts through the noise. The man is tempted to listen closer, to try to understand them. But he knows following them will only pull him further into the fog.
The ever present fog. It envelopes him. In every direction there only seems to be more of it. It’s beginning to slow the man down. Moving through it is disorienting. There’s no tether to follow back to where he started, no indication of where he’s going or where he’s been. Has he always been in the fog? Was there ever a time without it? He just knows he has to keep wandering. He has to keep wandering through that oppressive uncertainty. But suddenly he stops. He has the distinct sensation that he’s reached a precipice. That one more step will send him plummeting over an edge and into that fog forever. Then the whole struggle will have been in vain. There’s a reason he’s reached this point. He believes that. He was meant to reach it. He doesn’t dare move. The rumbling has stopped. There’s an eerie sense of quiet. Is… is the fog thinning?
Then a bright flash erupts through the fog. It explodes with such force that everything is instantly illuminated. There’s nothing but the light now. It washes over the man and for a moment everything makes sense. The fog is gone. The journey is complete. Then as quickly as it appeared, the light vanishes. The fog descends once more.
INT. BEDROOM – DAY
The man snaps back to reality, feverishly scribbling an idea down on a piece of paper. It was only a brief glimpse but there’s no mistaking it: inspiration has struck. He knows he will have to travel into the fog once more. But at least, momentarily he has silenced his doubts and remembered why he chose to be a filmmaker.
This project was created as part of the JTWO [INC]ubator Project. A semester long internship program built from the ground up to give young filmmakers, content creators, and all around hungry for a challenge individuals a place to stretch their creative minds while preparing them for the road ahead.
Jtwo Welcomes Intern Lana Duda
READY TO BE HEARD
By Lana Duda
I see filmmaking as the ultimate form of art. It’s visual, auditory, emotional, informal, and can bring people together. Visual media is something that has become so accessible and dominant in how individuals see and understand the world. Being a part of the film industry gives me the opportunity to create media that accurately represents the truth and heart of a story that can inspire and educate viewers. Film is a window into the cultures and the lives of others. My goal in this industry is to be a part of those stories and help those individuals be heard.
I grew up watching films that changed the way of visual storytelling, Citizen Kane, Tokyo Story, Vertigo, Touki Bouki, etc. Those films have become a foundation towards my storytelling, representation, and the history of film. Film is so powerful and I want to be a part of the new age of filmmaking that elevates these stories to a more equal, realistic, representative level that has allowed more individuals, innovation, and ideas to be seen.
The funny thing is, I never saw myself heading down this career path. I always had a very natural creative ability, but I grew up in a very math and science dominated school and unfortunately, the arts was something to be budgeted and cut. Not until my senior year of high school did I question filmmaking. I applied to Temple University as a Biology Major and I was not happy. I was doing things that I thought others expected of me instead of taking the risk to say “I don’t know what I want to do”. I declared undecided and took a film class. I finally felt like I was in a space where I could be creative with others.
From there I declared film and fell in love with Post-Production. In those four years I learned and dedicated myself to working on projects that told an important story. I cannot imagine doing anything else. Post -production is the perfect amount of creativity and technological ability that continues to teach and challenge me everyday. It’s something I can do for hours on end and never be sick of it.
As my final semester at Temple came to an end, I talked to a mentor who told me about JTwo Films. I reached out to their head editor to talk, connect, and ultimately learn from their experiences as an editor in Philly. They themselves interned at JTwo and through hard work and dedication they were recognized and rewarded. Besides their amazing works and stories, that is something that really stood out to me. I had nothing to lose. I applied for the internship and now I am extremely thankful to have this position and be a part of JTwo’s storytelling experience.
This project was created as part of the JTWO [INC]ubator Project. A semester long internship program built from the ground up to give young filmmakers, content creators, and all around hungry for a challenge individuals a place to stretch their creative minds while preparing them for the road ahead.
Intern of the Decade
Jake "Mr. Italiano" Price
In 2009 we launched JTWO.U – our internship program which later became The JTWO [INC]ubator Project. During the past ten years, we have had some amazing students come through our doors (along with a bevy of disasters), but one intern stood on the shoulders of giants and claimed the coveted title of “Intern of the Decade.”
That intern is Jake Price,class of 2017.
WHY DO YOU THINK JTWO NAMED YOU INTERN OF THE DECADE?
Jake Price : Isn’t it obvious? I’m the best. Honestly, I’m not sure why — truly. I know Jtwo has had a lot of great talent walk through their doors over the years. I’m floored, and I humbly accept this prestigious honor. Thinking about it, it definitely helps that they’ve been hearing my voice every time an intern was trained by my JTWO.U videos.
HOW DID YOU EARN THE COVETED TITLE?
JP : Can you believe that 17 people were too emotionally distraught to answer their phones when Justin Jarrett’s name flashed on screen? And if that didn’t scare ‘em off, I know a guy who knows a guy who makes peop— problems disappear.
WHAT WOULD YOU SAY IF WE TOLD YOU THAT YOUR PRIZE FOR BEING NAMED INTERN OF THE DECADE WAS A GIFT CARD TO COSI?
JP : Ah, mi amor — Cosi. They don’t call me ”Mr. Italiano” for nothing. (I always ordered the Italiano sandwich even though it had been off the menu for over a year. I have written to Cosi HQ multiple times about this egregious typographical error.)
A gift card would make me cry. And then smile. And then cry. I live in St. Louis now, where there are no Cosi watering holes. (Don’t worry, though; I separately wrote to Cosi HQ about this issue.) All they have here is Panera. And they don’t even call it Panera. Google it. So, I’d finish crying, buy a ticket to Philly, head to Cosi, spend every last penny I’ve got (I have a job that actually pays me money now) and fly back.
WHAT ABOUT US? NO VISIT?
JP : If I have time, I’ll try to think about considering the possibility of wanting to inquire deep within myself about the truths pertaining to whether I would want to step foot in JTwo as a quick pit stop or not. So, yep, anyways. Back to what I was saying, Cosi — it’d be a classic cry-and-fly.
OKAY, HYPOTHETICALLY, WHAT WOULD YOU SAY IF WE TOLD YOU THAT THE COSI GIFT CARD EXPIRED AND YOUR REWARD IS BRAGGING RIGHTS INSTEAD?
JP : I quit. Wait, I can’t quit. Hire me, I promise I won’t quit. Also, Mr. Italiano doesn’t exactly do consolation prizes.
OKAY, YOU'RE HIRED.
JP : I quit. Wait, what was my pay?
JP : I quit. Wait, what was my pay?
MOVING ON, TELL US ABOUT YOUR TIME AT JTWO. WHAT WAS IT LIKE? DID YOUR INTERNSHIP HAVE ANY LASTING IMPACT ON YOU?
JP : Excluding the day I was forced to build a desk — punishment for being, like, ten to forty minutes late — I made TONS of great memories in my time as an intern. I discovered parts of myself I didn’t know existed. All jokes aside, I wrote and directed a PSA about relapsing from addiction. It was nominated for an award.
I remember revising and rewriting and showing Justin and Travis what I was working on. I hadn’t dug deep within myself to create something of substance before. It was always easy for me to make comedies. But JTwo pushed me beyond my comfort zone. Originally, I was going to tell this dumb story about how someone got interested in the entertainment industry. It was a light piece, it was fluffy, and it was bland. Thanks to the guidance I received, I found the threads in that story that mattered and used them to make a statement. I created something that to this day I’m so proud of.
WHAT ABOUT SOME OF YOUR LESS “SERIOUS” WORK?
JP : After ‘Relapse’, I began working on ‘Studio Life’ – an ambitious, goofy ”little” project filmed over the course of roughly four months. I could pick out any day of shooting and talk about how hard we made each other laugh, but honestly, for “just some video I was being graded on for an internship program”, it never felt like work — everything I got to do while interning at Jtwo was a labor of love.
STOP, YOU’RE GONNA MAKE US CRY. DON’T READ INTO THIS TOO MUCH, BUT YOU’RE MUCH BETTER AT THE JOKES, STICK TO THAT.
JP : Okay—
AGAIN, WE AREN’T TELLING YOU YOU’RE FUNNY, YOU’RE JUST A LOT WORSE AT THE OTHER STUFF.
JP : I’ll try to work on that? Seems kind of ironic I’m winning your award and you’re insulting me.
JUST KEEPING YOU HUMBLE. NOW, RUMOR HAS IT THAT YOU WERE BULLIED BY THE OFFICE DOGS, NOVA AND GRIFFEY WHILE YOU WERE THERE.TRUE OR FALSE?
JP : I cannot comment due to a non- disclosure agreement but please know I am still receiving counseling. I have said too much. Nova, call me.
WHAT ADVICE WOULD YOU GIVE TO FUTURE INTERNS?
JP : First off, memorize every word your spirit guide tells you. He knows more than you do. Do you have an Intern of the Decade award?
Second, don’t show up thinking you know jack squat. I did. And then found out I didn’t. Be okay with being humble. Then go and make some great videos.
Third, and most important, don’t use your phone while on fire duty. Travis HATES that.
ANYTHING ELSE YOU WANT YOUR FANS TO KNOW? ANY FAVORITE MEMORIES YOU’D LIKE TO REMINISCE?
JP : As a matter of fact, yeah, I do.
I was nearly fired because a rat was eating chocolate in the printer. Yes. This is a true story.
Back when I was an intern, there was a room that had a couple edit bays, a couch (chewed up beyond repair thanks to Nova and Griffey), a printer and a bowl filled with an assortment of those strange flavored Hershey Kisses you have to dig around in the bag to find the good stuff. I’m talking some seriously disgusting flavors like strawberry and candy cane.
So, for a week or so (about midway through my internship), I was just churning out revisions to scripts left and right, showing them to Justin for approval. On one of those fateful days, like any other preceding it, I tried to print. It wouldn’t work. I complained to Justin, Travis and Jelani. I must have asked them to come check out the printer at least five times that afternoon. I was about to take matters into my own hands; these scripts weren’t going to print themselves.
Finally, the guys came in the room as I opened the printer and found a Hershey Kiss lodged in between two spools. It seemed like there were indents, either because it was half eaten or had been shredded up by the printer. I didn’t linger on this for too long. I went to take a dump. Justin and Travis kept joking that I did it. I didn’t. I shrugged it off and went home at the end of the day. They just needed to fix their damn printer for me.
A couple days later, I showed up to work like normal and was subsequently ushered into a side room (let’s call it the non-sound-proofed, glass-walled interrogation chamber). It was just me and Justin. And everybody watching us through the glass. Justin was surprisingly stern. He asked if I sabotaged the printer. Seriously, he was not f***ing around. I was confused. They were still going on about this? I told Justin no. He pressed for an honest answer. He told me that Travis was ready to fire me. Again, I responded ‘no’. Justin said okay and we left the room. I thought that was the end of my interrogation.
Nope. Justin took me to the printer. We opened it up and saw the chocolate still lodged inside. First off, who leaves chocolate in a printer for days on end? Were they scared to touch it? Afraid I was the one who might have taken a bite out of it? Whatever. I digress.
Looking at it again, the chocolate really looked like it had been gnawed at. Travis was about to lose his s**t. Having realized I went from intern to prime suspect, I told them again — this time nervously — that it wasn’t me. I didn’t do myself any favors by (accidentally) sounding guilty.
Then, because I put literally the bare minimum effort into investigating further, I found little chocolate dots — you know, the kind that weren’t chocolate but were actually rat droppings — inside the printer and all along the wall behind it.
We started taking the printer apart to see if there were more and found a truly dumbfounding scattering of those little paper slips that come tucked into every Kiss. It was like someone had set off a Hershey Kiss paper slip confetti cannon in that printer.
All in all, I was almost fired because Ratatouille was eating and s**tting his dessert in the printer. Lesson learned: don’t leave chocolates out next to a printer, JUSTIN.
ACTUALLY IT WAS TRAVIS.
JP : Who f**king cares? That’s it, interview over. I’m moving to Indianapolis. Have a great life. Thanks for the award or whatever. Go f**k yourselves.