Report: Shonda Rhimes's next show to be post-apocalyptic nuclear hellscape, but sexy

After the success of newest Shondaland production Bridgerton, Shonda Rhimes (Grey’s Anatomy, Scandal, How to Get Away with Murder) has finally yielded to the many questions about what she will do next.

“You know I love great characters and romance, with a lot of action in the background,” she says to a nodding crowd. We all know. “And you know I take interesting premises, in which fields things have been done before, but not like this. I realized there is one area that needs the Shonda Touch. It’s the future, after we’ve destroyed ourselves.”

Yes, the next Shonda Rhimes project, yet untitled, is to be a post-apocalyptic nuclear hellscape. Rhimes explains that she has learned from shows as diverse as The Walking Dead to Fear the Walking Dead that the apocalypse — well, it’s just hot. Why nuclear? “I’ve pondered other hellscapes,” Rhimes says. “But I don’t know. This one just seemed the most sexual.”

When asked why she believes the apocalypse is our future, Rhimes shares her insights. “All my time writing television and living real life have taught me how batsh*t crazy people are,” she explains. “I love all my characters, even Papa Pope, but they and everyone else have taught me what our future really is. It’s only two things in the end. Sex, and the apocalypse.”

More prodding from the crowd on the title of the project elicits a warning laugh, a politely dismissive hand-wave, and one more comment: “I’ve said too much already! What I can tell you is, the first season will have four main conflicts, two new supporting characters added in each episode, and twelve main romances between three main characters, with that number will exponentially increase each season while stakes continuously escalate and recurring characters are repeatedly promoted to main and then killed off as the original mains slowly peel off to diversify their careers until everyone you ever loved has died but you’re still watching because you forgot how good I am at this, motherf*****s!” Rhimes smiles and waves goodbye as she walks offstage. The mic goes silent.

At once, we all rise and applaud, cheering. What a show.

Can I pour this pumpkin spice latte into the growing abyss in my heart?

Asking for a friend.

Ah, autumn. Beautiful, isn’t it? Colored leaves, movie-moment rains, overcast skies most likely not caused by toxic wildfire smoke. But if there’s one thing that perfectly encapsulates the changing of the seasons, it is that warm, scrumptious, snuggly taste that simply cannot be beat: the pumpkin spice latte.

As I hold the cup in my hands, the heat transfer mimicking what I remember of human touch, I wonder: could this be the answer to all of my problems? No, no, it couldn’t be. It’s too easy. Too simple. It’s impossible that this one drink, so beloved yet so scorned, could be the thing I have been looking for in lieu of real enjoyment or social interaction. And yet, as I stare into the siren’s eyes, I cannot help but imagine happier days. It’s worth a shot. Right?

My pumpkingasm begins as it has for many moons. I open the lid for a quick whiff. My tastebuds tingle. My body shivers, just once, faster than Mitch McConnell can say “Supreme Court nominee.” I look down at the sumptuous hue of Caramel Color Level IV. I close the lid in a daze. This is muscle memory. I do not remember my hand reaching for the cup, but suddenly, it is there. I dissociate only briefly as my cup approaches me.

The plastic and wax press against my lips and I remember: I haven’t kissed someone in a long time. Like, a long time. Is this…what it feels like? I can hardly remember. I let the lid’s opening linger, my cup kept at this angle, as I project a feeble memory of affection from a past life. Is this what it is like to be loved?

I tilt the cup up and suddenly, the world is filled with color again, with the inimitable taste of pumpkin spice flavor mix and the slightest trace of petroleum. Heaven. I feel my smile widening and my hair lightening as my spirit travels through several scenes: a midwestern apple orchard, a Starbucks one block from the Starbucks I was at this morning, a Kappa Kappa Kappa sorority house. I am free. I land in a meadow, surrounded by splendidly colored wildflowers and a sun with blazing light but balmy heat, for the shade and breeze are perfect. Bunnies and deer skip across the pastoral scene. There could be nothing better than this. No…wait. I see…no, it can’t be. Kobe? And…John? Chadwick? Ruth? They are here with me, in this land that stretches for miles, filled with laughs, with love, with potassium sorbate.

All at once, my worries drown in a foamy orange haze. My body is light. My inflamed intercostal muscles soothe. My urge to post political memes dampens. Will this pumpkin spice latte solve all of my problems? The election? Getting through this pandemic for the foreseeable months? For the foreseeable…year(s)? Wait, years? How many years do we even have? Meadows…nature…climate…oh god, climate, oh no, wait, f—

I take another sip.

Ah.

It’s going to be just fine.

In these unprecedented times, we must unite as one human race and buy my new monthly subscription box

This uncertainty calls for empathy, compassion, and wads of your remaining cash stuffed into my bare mouth.

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Now more than ever, in these troubling, challenging, trying, and unprecedented times, as we slow down and turn our thoughts inward, though our doors may be closed, though the distance between us all has gotten greater, as we stay apart, as we must find ways to reconnect within the comfort of…sorry, I forgot what I was going to say. But, like, buy the box.

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