O.K. folks. Here he is. THE AGENT. Whereabouts unknown. International man of mystery.
Once the Agent was in a workshop at a small book store in New Mexico. One lady wanted him to get her anthology of casserole recipes carried by Barnes and Noble. He was polite, but told her he was concerned he might not be able to sell it- casserole recipes were not hot that year- and she beat him with a tennis shoe.
Being the Southern Gentleman he is, it was against his code of ethics to hit back, but he did not accept new clients for six months after the incident. I had to chase him longer than I did my wife. (She married me after eight proposals- she decided I warn’t going away.)
His geneolgy is a mystery but I have been told he is a direct decendant of Huckleberry Finn.
The agent wishes to maintain his anonymity and does not allow pictures, but at our last conference I secretly sketched him. The light was bad, but this is a very close image.
I hope he does not fire me for this post. If you run into him I have but one request. Tell him you are going to buy Dr. Tommy Bibey’s book but only on the condition the Agent gets his 15% cut. And tell him you like Bibey’s writing and he can draw good too, ’cause it looks just like him.
Thanks,
Dr. B
P.S. To the boss. I’ll get that fifteen bucks in the mail as soon as I’m paid.