Suddenly, Jensen's editor exploded into my office. ''Jeff! Why don't I have your story already?'' he shouted.

A zillion excuses bounced around Jensen's head. I have a bladder infection! A fleet of badgers attacked me and chewed off my fingers! No, a freak snowstorm hit Santa Monica --

''You have 60 seconds to finish this piece or I'm giving it to Snierson!''

He was pointing at me. I gulped.

Jensen sprinted back to his desk, perspiration pouring from his armpits. He knew two things as he stared at the screen. One, his ending would allude to the intro of the story, bringing it all together like the most satisfying orgasmic epiphany. And two, it was going to be really, really funny.

But the cursor blinked mockingly...

Originally posted Nov 15, 2002 Published in issue #682 Nov 15, 2002 Order article reprints
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