Read Who Stole the Funny? : A Novel of Hollywood for Free Online Page B

Sunsets behind mountains cost money. Cow feed cost money. Health care for Jeremy cost money. “Good times and tough times, we’re a team!”
    J.T. would repeat. Unfortunately, somebody had to pay for the
    team uniforms, which put J.T. back to square one.
    “Here’s an ironic funny,” J.T. said one day. “I can’t pay the bills on my teaching salary and the only thing I’ve ever done in my life, the only skills I have, I left behind in Hollywood.”
    J.T. needed a directing gig. Now that, J.T. thought, is funny.
    The Meeting of the
    So-called Minds
    The Pooleys, Dick Beaglebum, the Studio, and the Network all
    met in a very public place. Public so no one could throw a tantrum and get away with it. And public to make sure there were witnesses in case of bad behavior. It was standard protocol for savvy executives.
    Each side thought this would be a tough sell and was adamant
    not to budge.
    There was no small talk, no preliminaries. Not even a hello.
    Dick opened the negotiations with a story about parity and how
    everyone here “ . . . is a partner. So there is no reason for hostilities, and whatever the outcome, the only thing that truly matters is the show itself; not the individual Entities, but the sum of the Entities,”
    which of course was the pop culture miracle known as I Love My Urban Buddies !
    Then, like members of a choral ensemble who’d actually prac-
    ticed the composition “I know who should direct this show,” Debbie, Lance, the Pooleys, and Dick each chimed in as if on cue in a perfect fugue:
    “J.T. Baker.”
    “J.T. Baker.”
    “J.T. Baker.”
    3 8
    W H O S T O L E T H E F U N N Y ?
    “J.T. Baker.”
    There was an awkward beat—a very awkward beat—as an ag-
    ing waitress set down a big plate of fries on the table. Debbie had practically inhaled the first order. She’d grabbed it from the waitress and made it very clear that these French fries were hers, dammit! This time her hand froze in mid-reach toward the second
    plate o’ potatoes. “Wait— what did you say? ”
    “J.T. Baker,” everyone repeated.
    They all looked at one
    another. Not one of them
    The Hollywood Dictionary
    had planned on this agree-
    ment. Not only that: no one
    HONCHO: Someone who passes
    had a backup plan.
    the buck while getting the big
    bucks.
    “Can I get you guys any-
    thing else?” the old waitress
    asked.
    The tableful of honchos was paralyzed with indecision.
    Fuck! each one of them thought. Who can I blame for this ?
    The phone had rung at the Baker house. It was three hours past
    any sensible business day in Hollywood (even on a Who-Died-
    Sunday ), but that was nothing new for anyone who had received those phone calls in the past. The answering machine in the kitchen had Dick Beaglebum’s excited voice on it. Natasha was glad that Jeremy had wandered to his room before they played the message.
    Now she and J.T. stood, staring at each other, hearing the voice . . .
    the voice from the past. The voice that represented money for the family. Insurance for Jeremy. Suicide for J.T.
    J.T. was a loving husband and lived for his family, but he was
    still a head case. Dick Beaglebum once told J.T. that if he gave fifty percent of himself to a show, it would still be more than R o b b y
    B e n s o n
    3 9

    one hundred percent of what others gave to the weekly process.
    J.T. had been so offended by the possibility of that premise that he’d curled up into a fetal position for two days. Yup, J.T. was that kind of head case.
    Natasha understood all of the implications before she heard
    Dick’s enthusiasm/compassion on the message machine—just af-
    ter the message from Southern States, the farm supply store, telling them that the organic dairy feed and the 235 bales of hay were in.
    “We need to talk,” Natasha said as she steadily erased the mes-
    sages.
    J.T. began to shake.
    With great enthusiasm and compassion Dick had left his phone
    number and a speedy message about the three episodes and how
    J.T.