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to—”
    Max raised a hand to silence her. Legend was still struggling at the end of her arm.
    “Legend,” said Max, “why don’t I meet you in the office where the Xbox is? I’ll be done here soon and I can take you home.”
    Legend started off.
    “And thank Corliss for babysitting, right?”
    Legend shook his pudgy behind in Corliss’s direction.
    “Don’t make that rude gesture, Legend. Say thank you.”
    “Thank you, Corlith,” he pouted as he padded off.
    “The main thing,” said Max as he moved closer to Corliss, “is that you survived a day with Legend. He’s not easy, I know. And I’m grateful.”
    “Seriously, he was no trouble at all, Max.”
    “Great. And now that you’ve proven yourself with Legend, I need you to go on a real mission.”
    Corliss looked uneasy, exhausted. Max knew he had to speak elliptically. “Tanya. Trent. No good.”
    “Huh?”
    Max sighed. “Let me speak plainly. Tanya and Trentwere making goo-goo eyes at each other. Nothing good can come of this. I need you to monitor them and report back.”
    “Oh,” said Corliss, confused. “What do you mean, exactly?”
    “I need you to keep them from becoming close.”
    “Why?”
    “Please don’t ask any questions.”
    “But isn’t that nobody’s business but theirs?”
    “What did I just say about questions?”
    “Sorry.”
    Max took Corliss by the shoulders. “Do you know what quality I like most in assistants?”
    “Um, clear skin and fresh breath? That’s a joke—sorry! I’m trying to ease the interpersonal dynamic with a little humor.”
    “I find myself less than interested, Corliss. What I
am
interested in is an assistant who says, ‘Yes, Max’ to everything I ask.”
    “Yes, Max.”
    “All day long.”
    “All day long,” Corliss repeated.
    “Exactly. So please keep an eye on Tanya and Trent. We’re going to want to harness their flirtation until
The ’Bu
is on the air. At that point I will permit their relationship to flower.”
    Corliss seemed to comprehend.
    “This is your most important function. Do we understand each other?”
    “Yes, Max,” said Corliss.
    “Good. You are dismissed for the day.”
    As Corliss walked off, Petey, who had witnessed the entire scene in silence, said, “Who’s that, Max?”
    “Nobody,” said Max. “My new assistant. Why?”
    “Because,” Petey said, his raccoon eyes suddenly twinkling with life, “I think she just gave me a brilliant idea for the rewrite.”
    Somewhere in the Bowels of the UBC Network—3:40 P.M.
    : The
’Bu-Hoo
    Malibu Barbie here. Or maybe it’s Malibu Ken? Call me MBK [get it? M(alibu)B(arbie or) K(en)!] ’cause I’m not saying…
    But I will be saying other stuff. And ALL OF IT’s about
The ’Bu.
That’s the UBC network’s new teen jiggle fest. The show that promises boatloads of bodacious bikinis and busloads of booty-rific board shorts.
    SEE KEYWORDS: frisky hot, seminude, sandy cracks
    So welcome to
The ‘Bu-Hoo
, kiddies. That’s what I’m calling this here blog you’re reading, ’cause it’sgonna deliver so much inside scoop it’ll make you weep for more! And who can blame ya? Who doesn’t want to hear about filthy rich teen stars behaving badly? I tell ya, this stuff is bananas! Those crazy ’Bu-sters are already racking up awards no one wants to win…
    AWARDS Already Won
    Best Talent-Impaired Latina Model
    Greatest Female Train Wreck in a Leading Role
    Video Director Most Willing to Sell His Soul to Make Friends with Cool People
    And we’re off to the races! Hidden sources involved in THE HIGHEST LEVELS OF PRODUCTION are already reporting to MBK how full of attitude Anushka “Champagne Breath” Peters is, and how truly dumb as a garage full of surfboards Trent Owen Michaels is…
    And don’t get me started on Max Marx—hereinafter referred to as M2. This big fakity-fake spent the first read-through pretending to know how to direct. The only problem is—he di’int! And network executives are already