author's notes: so this is one of my favorite fandom pairings ever. i don't know about anyone else but this pairing slapped me in the face at the end of the film. i think they'd fit. you know? anyway, chose the title from my favorite song on the soundtrack, which i thought would be a good representation of the relationships (especially seaweed/penny and tracy/link) ALSO -- i must kick my love shoutout to my cornBelle partner in crime, bana05

It wasn't enough. It just wasn't enough. Corny Collins sat in the WYZT office across from the main sponsor, Harriman Spritzer, owner of Ultra Clutch and right next to Velma Von Tussle, manager or the Wicked Bitch of the East as several of the dancers liked to call her, and manager of WYZT, and he was unable to hide his frustrations now.

He'd been vetoing for integration on the show since it had been given the name "The Corny Collins" show.

"Negro Day?" He found himself repeating disbelievingly, hoping that he had heard this all wrong. "Negro Day?"

Surely, they had to have been joking.

When Mr. Spritzer opened his mouth, however, to explain, Velma took the opportunity to do a little explaining for the both of them. "Corny, I would think that you of all people would be pleased with the decision and direction we were steering this idea. Surely," and her smooth as silk voice dropped a dangerous octave lower, "you didn't think that we were going to completely integrate." This followed with a laugh and Mr. Spritzer's own hearty chuckle while Corny tossed Velma the side eye.

"Besides, no one is going to want to tune in to seeing a bunch of Negroes dancing around on a popular show like the Corny Collins show. It does not appeal to our viewers," she continued on. "And yes, while you may like to argue that," Because Velma had just talked over Corny while he attempted to argue the point, "I can assure you that I wasn't hired the manager of WYZT because of my wit and my... beauty. I know what I'm doing."

Corny turned to Mr. Spritzer and expected him to say something, anything, even defend Velma but he only sat there, nodding his head.

Giving in and feeling like he was giving up, Corny slumped slightly in his chair and nodded. For nineteen sixty-one, he supposed that it would just have to do. "Negro day," he mumbled quietly.

"At least we're leaving it to you to pick the host?" Velma looked at him wide-eyed, feigning innocence (failing miserably) and shrugged. "I thought it would be your area of expertise, you know, since you love Negroes so much." She then finished it with a winning smile and Corny decided that yes, his father had taught him to never hit a woman but there had to always be an exception. And Velma iwas/i the exception.

To save himself from doing the unjust, Corny glared at them both and stood up, about to make a dramatic exit. But before he could make his successful exit, Mr. Spritzer had to add the icing to the Betty Crocker.

"And Corny, make sure whoever you choose isn't too authentic, will you?" He grimaced at the word authentic and Corny did leave this time, although there was no door slamming, no stomping of the shoes, and no angry mumbling. What was the point of causing a sweat over a losing battle? Negro day? The words drummed in his head painfully as he trudged to his office. Saturday afternoon and here he was moping. Could he be blamed for it?

Negro day? Negro day?

Not even realizing he'd gotten to his car, he found himself sitting inside and cranking up. As the car started, his favorite radio station greeted him and at least he was going to hear his favorite voice on the way home.

"That was Smokey Robinson and the Miracles with Shop Around! And I'm Motormouth Maybelle giving you the songs, tunes, hits, and croons of the sixties!"

Maybelle laughed into the microphone and she pressed a button that made a chiming noise, "And now it looks like we're going to have a word from one of our sponsors, Katty Kasem of Katty Kasem's Katfish Grill!" Maybelle pulled away from the microphone and handed the headphones to Katty Kasem so he could promote his small but very successful restaurant. Maybelle didn't think she could thank him enough. The executives at WEDD laughed at her when she first pitched the idea but with the backing of the community, support of family (two that supported her more than she could ever be grateful for), she was soon hosting a successful local Rhythm and Blues radio station from the garage of her record shop/home.

It was hard work but Maybelle got by just fine.

Katty's wispy, shaking voice rattled on about the tastiest catfish in town ("Even the white folks love it!") and Maybelle looked outside the large makeshift windows to see her baby girl Lil' Inez teaching a dance move to some older kids. If she kept it up, she'd be more popular than her brother. Maybelle laughed at the idea.

Katty turned to look at her and then eyed Lil' Inez's smooth dancing and turned back to the microphone. "Remember! If it ain't Katty's then it just ain't right!"

He handed the microphone and headphones back to Maybelle and stood up to his full height of five foot two and toddled off like a penguin.

"And I also want you to remember, that Motormouth Maybelle is having a cookout and dance fest right in the garage of the HJS Records Shop. So put on your best dancin' shoes and shake it on down to Maybelle's!" She looked up just in time to see Lil' Inez, walking as fast as her little legs could carry while Rhonda, a friend of the family/part-time babysitter, and one member of the amazing trio The Dynamites singing group walking beside her with a grin on her face.

"Ooh, Maybelle - you ain't gonna' believe who's here!"

Maybelle put a finger to her lips and they hushed while Lil' Inez hopped impatiently from foot to foot.

"And now Motormouth Maybelle's got a new hit for you. It's comin' from our favorite crooner and trouble maker himself, Ray Charles, singing Hit the Road Jack, so for all you men and women that need some motivation to drop that dead weight this should be all the motivation you need right here!" Maybelle pressed the button and turned off the microphone. She pulled the headphones off and sighed, standing up and placing a hand on each hip.

"It better be the Lord Almighty with a million dollar check out there," she began to fuss, looking at Rhonda and then at Inez, who was starting to turn red in the nose. Anytime that child got impatient, the tip of her nose was shining like Rudolph's on Christmas Eve!

"Even better!" Rhonda said sounding like someone that was so giddy they didn't know whether to laugh or just grin.

"Well - what is it..."

"Mama, Corny Collins is outside RIGHT NOW and he wants to talk to you about something real important!" Inez squealed and jumped up and down with her little hands balled up into fists. Maybelle knew that for a seven year old, it was normal for her to behave like this but hell; she'd have jumped up for joy with some news like that, too.

Maybelle stood there for a moment and looked at the both of them, Rhonda still stuck between laughter and grinning and then Inez, still red in the face and trying not to turn cartwheels with the news. And Maybelle knew why Inez had been so gleeful at the sight of Corny Collins. Inez could out dance all those Council Members on the Corny Collins show when she had barely learned to walk! Her baby girl was just meant to be on that show and Inez let everyone who didn't know, know. Seaweed had a passion for it but he preferred singing over anything else in this world, but dancing - dancing was Inez's true gift.

"What y'all so hyper about? Bring the man in and I'll talk to him. For all you know, he probably needs someone to come down and mop up the place when they're done getting the floors all dirty from their bustling about." Both of the girls laughed and Maybelle added, "cuz that sure ain't dancin' they be doin'."

She turned her back to them the moment they walked off and found herself subconsciously straightening out her lavender dress. Wasn't much to smooth out though, wasn't much room. Her mother had picked out this dress as a present. Apparently it was meant to charm potential suitors but not much use had come to it and Maybelle figured she'd take advantage of this dress before things went even further south. She looked in the mirror to check and see if her wig was sitting properly. She knew she should have worn her better wig today. Something had told her to do that. No matter, the wig looked fine. She looked fine. Professional enough. Giving her reflection a smile, she nodded her head.

Not half bad.

"Mrs. Stubbs," the clean cut, smooth as a whistle voice almost threw her for a surprise. She turned around and took in a deep breath, "I'm Corny Collins and I wanted to talk to you about integrating the Corny Collins show."