Brian Newman
Artwork by Zakas

"Never work with kids or animals" was the old Hollywood saying. Nobody ever mentioned puppets.

I hate them. I despise them. The show seemed easy money and, let’s face it, Ineeded the cash. A typical kid's program, where I had to chat with the puppets between clips of them having real world adventures. A piece of cake, I thought.

Only, the show was a hit. My contract held me for two more years. Who reads the fine print about a puppet show? So I was trapped wearing a silly grin and a silly outfit, with two silly puppets. They were pretty high maintenance, they didn't do much for themselves.

The show was designed to comfort and soothe small children. So we had the little brats in the studio. Can you possibly imagine how stressful it is to soothe little kids? I find kids creepy at best. And my hope of scoring with the occasional young mother never panned out. They must have picked up how much I despised their brats.

At the last production meeting I chain smoked, to ease my foul temper. The puppets were the stars, and I was the dummy.  It was their voice that I had to speak. Imagine any artist doing that! The director was in his glory. He had a hit! When he asked me to stay late, I knew I was in trouble.

"It's promotion," he said. He wanted me to answer fan mail.

"I didn't know I was getting any," I said. He looked at me strangely, and cleared his throat. "It's the puppets," he said, and pointed over at a large plastic box. He missed my scowl. "It's all in there. The incoming mail, the stationery, the postage." He paused a bit. "Do I have to mention," he said, "that your contract calls for all mail to be answered?"

I took the bin home, cursing all the way.

It was much later that night, towards the end of a 40 oz. bottle, that I had a creative idea of my own.

I got back to the studio about noon. I was bleary-eyed and unshaven. No show that day, so all of the big wigs were on the golf course. I grabbed the puppets and took them to the photo department. I explained what I wanted, and got the shot. I told them I needed a thousand copies right away. It's a rather good photo, don't you think?

I started with the letters that night. The envelopes were pre-addressed. I used red ink to put my mark on each picture. When you are doing a job you believe in, time flies by!

I took my first drink only after the letters were finished. I had a warm feeling as I went out and dumped the lot in a mail box. The warmness was not just the booze.

So, now I wait. It doesn't matter what will happen. But I am still curious to find out how this will end.

Will that picture kill the puppets, or will it kill me?

Either way, I am happy.