December 5, 2005
Week 32 - Impossible Dreams 13
Episode 1
Powell talks with Harry, in Harry's office. "I finished reading the manuscript for the first part of your Coyote Man story," Harry says, holding up a small stack of papers.
"Oh, um... how is it?"
Harry carefully grips the papers and slowly tears them in half. Powell stares at him. "You've got the best subject matter anyone could ask for," Harry says. "A lunatic who dresses up like a superhero and makes an ass of himself fighting make believe crime! But your article reads like a goddamn philosophy text book!"
"I'm... um... I'm just trying to... to get across the situation... I think it's really interesting what makes Mr. Lamont tick. I mean... he lives in his own world, right? But maybe... maybe that's not such a bad thing... I mean... if the real world is just so messed up... so intolerable... what's so bad about living in a fantasy?"
"You want to hear about how intolerable the real world is? This magazine is losing a thousand dollars a day. We've almost run through our credit. Now... I could pretend that we're selling a half a million copies an issue and everything's fine. But then, in about nine weeks, none of us get paychecks."
"That's... that's not what I mean."
"Listen... Start the article again. Leave out the crap about motivations and what it all means. Our readers couldn't care less. Just give me the action and give me the silliness. Make it fast and make it funny!"
"But..."
Harry holds a finger in front of his lips. "Shhh.... I'm gonna take your advice. I'm going into my dream world now...."
"I just want to..."
"I'm imagining that all my writers do exactly what I tell them, without arguing."
"Can't we..."
"Why, certainly Powell, I accept your apology..." A blissful look spreads across Harry's face. "What's that? You're going to go back to your computer this second and write the story just the way I say? That's wonderful!"
Powell takes a deep breath and shakes his head. Then he gets up and leaves.
"Maybe the kid's onto something here," Harry mumbles. He leans back in his chair. After a few moments, he looks at the office door. "Oh, hello Ms. Bullock, come on in... That's a lovely negligee... What's that? Why certainly... You can nibble my toes for a while, if it would really make you happy..."