Literary Agent Orson: The Bad Shepherd

“ba a a a.”

“…and do you, Orson, take Dolly to be your lawful wedded lamb, to have and to hold, as long as you both shall live?”

Orson stared into the innocent eyes; the beautiful black, non-judging eyes. Finally, we will be one, he thought, “I do.”

By the power vested in me by the state of New Jersey, I now pronounce you man and lamb. You may now kiss the wildlife. Orson reached for his lamb. His heart was bursting at this pinnacle of fulfillment long delayed. It was the happiest moment of his life, and then the phone woke him up.

He looked at the clock. “Yes Mother?”

“Orson, honey is that you? Are you sleeping in the middle of the day again? How did you know it was me?”

“Mother, it’s five o’clock in the morning.”

“I can’t sleep. Were you having that weird animal dream again? You know, my real baby was switched at birth. You didn’t come from this womb. Your head is far too big.”

“My analyst says Dolly represents the childhood I never had, Mother. What do you want?”

“Blame the parent. That’s the new thing, isn’t it honey?”

“Mother.”

“Please, honey, look at my new manuscript.”

“No, Mother.”

“Please, please, please honey… snookums.”

“Mother, stop it.”

“Snooky wooky.”

“No. I have a tight schedule. I board a plane for a conference in Vegas this morning. I don’t have the time.”

“No time--For your own mother?” she said with a dejected tone.

“For my own Mother? But you just said--"

“Oh that was silly nonsense, honey. Please. It’s brilliant. It’ll spare so many women the agony I suffered, and for only $29.95 it will be a bargain.”

“Okay, what’s the title?”

“That’s more like it,” Mother gloated, “My working title is ‘Boarding school: What to do when your baby was switched at birth with a demon-alien spawn with a very fat head.’ I know it’s long, but I can’t cut a single word without losing the full meaning. …Orson… honey… Hello, Orson…Orson, are you there?”