about the leaks? I mean, okay, it sucked to be Joey when Rabbit found out he’d been using pig pee in his drug tests. And I felt bad for Big Nugg when all that stuff about Jimmy, uh, came out. Mia? well… she deserved it, to be honest. And Cassie should have known better. But that’s not the point. The point is, shouldn’t we be thanking Chaz Chipford? Aren’t all these headlines the reason why our ratings have been going up every week?”
Len raised his palms as if in surrender.
“As much as I enjoy having a three-hundred-pound dick at my beck and call—no offence, Dick—this wasn’t my idea,” he said. “I got my orders from up on high. The way Big Corp sees it, all this tittle-tattle in ShowBiz might be doing us a favor for now, but what’s the next story going to be? The Germans have put a greased fist up Sir Harold Killoch’s arsehole, Bill. He can’t afford another scandal. Besides, he invested a hundred million dollars in The Talent Machine. He doesn’t want us stealing its glory, which would make it look like the giant fucking pile of ego wank that it is. They’re happy to see our numbers improve, yes—but not too much. And certainly not if it means giving ShowBiz magazine any leverage over us.”
“So it’s all politics.”
“All I care about is catching the mole, getting through the finale next Thursday, then getting on a plane to the farthest point away from Greenlit Studios on Earth, so I can live to see another season—if Sir Legs Eleven gives us that pleasure,” said Len. “Now think, Bill. How come you’re suddenly acting like you’re working at Vogue magazine, with all these cabs and designer dresses.”
There was no point in hiding it any longer. I was amazed Len hadn’t figured it out for himself already, in fact. “Okay,” I sighed. “So I meant to tell you this a few weeks ago.”
“Tell me what?” Len looked urgently at Dick, who reached for his notebook.
“It’s Joey,” I said. “I’m… writing scripts for him. Same thing Tad’s been doing for Bibi all season, basically. Only I’m doing it at nights and at weekends. Moonlighting.”
It was the first time I’d ever seen Len look genuinely surprised. “You mean… you’re the one who… ?” He couldn’t even get his words out. I noticed something else in Len’s face, too. Another first: He was impressed. There was no hiding it.
“Yeah,” I confirmed.
“So… the joke about the banjo and the cheese stick that got picked up by Letterman the other—”
“Mine. Well, now it’s Joey’s, technically. Mitch had me assign the copyright.”
“Wow, Billy the Kiddo, I had no idea. A scriptwriter. You. Well, who would have guessed it? I wanted to be a writer myself, y’know. Always thought I had a novel in me. Mind you, I suppose you could write a hundred novels about this bloody place.”
“Am I in trouble?” I asked, expecting the worst, which Len was usually only too happy to deliver.
He leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the table. Dick looked uncomfortable with the informality and straightened himself, as if to compensate.
“I’ve given you a hard time on this show,” Len declared, with a frankness in his tone that made me nervous. “I remember calling up Bibi not long after you got Bill’s job, and telling her to invite you over for lunch when you’d been out drinking until three a.m., just so I could hear how you’d suffered through it. The celery was the best part. Oh, I almost died. That was Bibi’s idea, by the way. And the fact she kept it going for seven hours before you asked to go home. Priceless! They brought out the cheeseburgers and fries the second you were out the front door.”
“You mean…” A ripple of heat rose up through my chest and into my face. “That was—”
“What I’m saying is,” Len went on, “I wanted you to quit or commit. There was something about you, Bill: You were good at your job, but you always seemed above it, like you didn’t care, like you had some bigger plan.” He was looking right at me now, leaving me with no choice but to meet his gaze, when all I really wanted to do was get up and tug at his hair, to see if the Merm could actually be real.
“Let me tell you something, Bill,” he continued, changing course. “I was bullied at school. Mercilessly. Head flushed