Into The Belly of the Beast

I knew something was up when My Master and I arrived at My Nemesis' house, and he was packing bags. Apparently his birthday was fast approaching, and it had been decided that we were all going to Minneapolis to celebrate.

I thoroughly enjoy how I am constantly made to travel like this. I'm the one with chapter deadlines. My agent calls me incessantly about my screenplays. No, Ari, I won't change the lead actors' sexual orientation just because Ben Affleck says he's not into playing gay men on screen. That's his problem, not mine. His work as of late (?) have been sub-par, anyway. The studio must be trying to save money, which I find humorous, considering how little I got paid for my screenplay.

At any rate, the fact that I'm busy and behind schedule never seems to bother My Master or My Nemesis. We pile into My Nemesis' car - a small mid-90s Saturn with non-functional AC that is loud as all outdoors - and began the ride back to Minneapolis. They both called the ride "quick and problem free," which made me snort, loudly, more than once. Until you've had Beluga Caviar off Tyra Banks' ass at 30,000 feet in the Concord, rides are neither fast, nor problem free. Especially when there is no air conditioning, and I am forced to listen to air rush by at 75mph. So uncouth, practically barbaric conditions, really. Not even the offer of a single-malt Speyside or small-batch Bourbon to quell my discomfort. BUT, I digress. I need to remain humble. Not everyone went to Julliard. Not everyone was published by age 2 (dog years, may I remind you). It's nearly impossible for a coat to be as glossy as mine.

Once we arrived, my mood improved significantly. My accommodations for the weekend appeared quite nice. I learned that My Nemesis has a sister, and that she has a small but nice home in a quiet suburb outside of Minneapolis. My companions and I took the large room on the second floor. The bed was much larger than what I am used to, and at last, we had air conditioning. I was also quite surprised by My Nemesis' cat. He is quite hoary, with wispy gray and white hair, and huge pale green eyes. He's larger than me, but I imagine I'd best him in a footrace, due to his advanced age and frail haunches. He was quite chipper for his age, though, we had a short humorous discussion about My Nemesis, both agreeing he is generally an idiot, but lovable at the same time.

My Master and Nemesis told me they had a full weekend of plans, of which, as usual, I was not allowed to be part of. Normally, this would bother me, even though I am used to such treatment. This weekend, however, I was actually happy to be left alone, as I had two chapters of my novel to outline and draft, and had to be on call all weekend in case my cousin Jorge needed me to talk to our cousin Juan about the condo deal in S Florida. Our business plan is foolproof, yet Juan still has wet feet. If he pulls his third out, the bank won't provide financing, so I need to be available. My retirement is hinging on this.