Blown out by Idle Tom
The phone rings. It’s Idle Tom, the bittersweet publisher.
"Hello Idle Tom," I say. "Are you looking forward to meeting all the good burghers of Alresford on Friday evening? They’re champing at the bit to meet you."
"Ah yes," said the idle one. "It was actually that that I was calling up about."
"What?" I said. "You’re not blowing me out?"
"And I can’t make Saturday’s Eton book-signing either …"
"Idle Tom!" I said. "But I thought it was all part of Legend’s legendary service that you always turned up to these bashes!"
He stuttered a bit, as he tends to do when he gets flustered. "Well … well, something’s come up and I just won’t be able to make it."
"Tom - you have let me down! Big time!"
He moved swiftly into mollification mode, which, give him his due, he does very well. (And not surprising too, given the huge amount of practice he’s had at it.) "Bill," he said, his soothing voice like an oozing puddle of treacly calm. "You’ll be fine there. I know you will - I’ve seen you do your stuff. You don’t need me there to hold your hand …"
"Tom, you idiot, I don’t need you there to hold my damn hand! I need you there to be the butt of my jokes! How the hell can I tell all these jokes at your expense if you’re not gurning away in the corner?"
"Maybe you could take along a cardboard cut-out …"
"As animated as the real thing, I’m sure, but I need you there in person so that they can see my 15-year-old publisher in the flesh. The gags just won’t work without you!"
November 16th, 2007 at 3:17 pm
Mollification? Not only surprised at Mr Coles knowing a five syllable word but it’s more like dealing with a preening cat - couple of meaniless pats and it’s all contented purring. Easy work.