Chet Haughey collared me today.
He's discovered that I'm planning to write a fourth novel in the Old Geezers series of which he is a major player, even though the third isn't even published yet, and he's not at all impressed. Below lies our less than happy conversation.
"So you're writing another of those goddamn books - why? Is it because you want more money?"
I try to tell him that I'm a panster and don't really know what's going to happen until it does and accidentally left number three open, and then explain that it isn't for money since I recently discovered that I'm being pirated and really just doing it for fun.
His eyes light up briefly at the word pirated then demands to know more.
"If that's all it is then I'll take care of the ******** (seriously major expletive deleted) myself." Then frowned when I explain that unfortunately web sites can't be slaughtered; but he won't listen. "Then Ill take your Cease and Desist order and shove it up their *******. Do you know how many drinks I've missed after being dragged through time and space by you? Millions I reckon."
I suggest that his liver might be happy.
"Screw my liver! It's done me for nearly eighty years. I was more worried about those pills we all had to take to keep us young. And I'm still not sure we're not all going to grow a pair of..." I assure him that he won't be growing any bits of women's genitalia.
"Well I'll tell you something." His sweaty face hovers less than an inch from my own. "This next one better be the last, or you won't be writing any more damned books - 'cos I'll rip your fingers off and stuff them where the sun don't shine!"
So, that's me told.
Many thanks to https://openclipart.org/ for the free image
You wouldn't think so if you could smell his breath. And it's all my fault since I invented his breath.
ReplyDeletelol, loved this post.
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