Sue baby. How are ya, kiddo? Listen, forget about last night. I loved it and I know, deep down, Chuck
adores you for doing it live like that. So, listen hon, the apology wasn’t bad. Not bad at all. But, we’re blowing some major career-enhancing opportunities for you if we don’t act fast. In fact, we’re gonna take a page out of the Mel Gibson celebrity crisis handbook, mix in some Karl Rove dirty tricks and make you the biggest thing to hit this town since George and Ira Gershwin.
Here’s the plan of attack. Everyone and their brother will be watching you tonight at 11, right? It’s like watching a train wreck. They won’t be able to help themselves. Here’s what you do. You get really good and liquored up this time. Tell Jean Georges to send me the tab. So, anyway, you stagger on at 11, push Chuck out of the way and announce to the world that you’re taking an immediate sabbatical (I love this sabbatical thing. Came to me while I was showering this morning). Anyway, you apologize for your behavior, admit that your alcohol abuse is way out of control and, get this, you’ll be checking yourself in immediately at some detox center for a 90-day journey of introspection and soul-searching. Am I friggin’ good, or what?
But wait, this is where it gets really, really good. While you’re in detox (we’ll find some cool place in the Hamptons for you, btw), you and me and some burnt-out writer I’ll dig up, will bang out your memoirs. I already have a working title, ‘What the F*** was I thinking?’ I’ve already got Random House interested in a cool $1 million signing deal. From there, we leak excerpts to the Post, New York Magazine, all the scandal sheets, etc. Then, get this, we book you on a three-month long college speaking tour (at schools of communications, natch). Finally, we arrange with WNBC-TV for your triumphant return on, when else, New Year’s Eve!!!! Sue: this is magic, baby. This is why you put in all those years sitting alongside sourpuss Scarborough. We’re gonna rock your world!
We’re going to the top, the absolute toppermost of the poppermost, as John Lennon used to say. So, head over to Jean Georges now. I’ll meet you there and we’ll start guzzling.