I hate comedy relief sidekicks! Epilogue

At the Intergalactic Gladiator Entertainment Building on Fire Island B, J'onn Sinew Nu pulled me aside.

"Listen, Jon," he says. "About a new sidekick."


"What are you going to pair me with this time?" I ask. "another Monkeyboy? A sass-talking robot? Dave Coulier?"

"No no, Jon," Sinew Nu chuckles. "What I'm trying to say is that the sidekick bit hasn't worked as well as we thought. Market research has shown us that there was no significant upswing in merchandising revenue generation despite his great comedic sidekicking talents."

"Well, here's an idea," I say. "Why don't you just let me go out there as myself, by myself and compete like I have been?"

"Oh no no no, we can't have that."

"The audience likes me because I am real. The audience wants something credible that they can believe in, you know. The audience in the Horizon Ampitheater on Fire Island 9, they're not dumb. They want something real, not some corporate, over marketed, milked down pop star. It's like art."

"Jon, I am a marketing expert, I know art. I can suck the life, soul and energy out of any art form. That's my job."

"Well, I'm not going for anything else. The sidekick was bad enough, anything else you want to try could only be worse."

"No no, listen to me," he tried to hold up his hands placatedly. "We want you to be you, but we want to use your background as an Earthman to add to your character!"

"Which means...?"

"We want you to be a drunken caveman."

"Absolutely not."

"A good natured hillbilly?"

"No way."

"An evil hillbilly?"

"I don't think so."

"An evil plumber?"

"A what?"

"A six armed robot with a human heart?"

"You're kidding."

"A garbage man?"

"Uh uh."

"A rowdy Irishman?"

"I'm not Irish."

"A rowdy Canadian?"

"No!"

"A rowdy sheepherder?"

"NO!"