Sidekick Services Agreement

Below is your revised special services agreement as my personal sidekick. Several additions and/or adjustments have been made to address issues that arose during the past few weeks, or more pointedly, after your embarrassing crying jag at Han’s annual winter social. Accept it, that thing on your neck was a pimple and it was hideous. Damn it, man, if you can’t handle a casual half hour or so of gentle ribbing, perhaps we should end this little agreement right now. If you’re going to be my sidekick, you have the privilege of being the whetstone upon which I sharpen my rapier wit. Got it?

Points of improvement:

You simply must learn how to properly cork a bottle. This is paramount, seeing as I can hardly be called upon to open wine AND drink it. With a glass in one hand and the other tracing the seam of some little black dress or other, my hands are full. Where are yours, Sherman? Stuffed in your pockets as you lumber around staring at your feet? Make yourself useful, man, pop a cork or two. Then wait in the car if you’re going to be “shy.”

And about your car ? can we do something about this? If I’m going to be chauffeured around by you any longer, Sherman, you could at least consider something more befitting my station.

Also, stop grousing about your expense account. Many employees are asked to cover incidental expenses out of pocket. Rule of thumb ? anything that can be purchased at a convenience store is incidental: booze, cigarettes, condoms, Turpenoid, etc. And must you bitch every time I send you? How else would you track your expenses?

Note: call me “kemosabe” under your breath one more time and I’ll kick your fucking ass. I know what it really means and it’s not cool.

Another Note: Dictation. D-I-C-T-A-T-I-O-N. You will take it and like it.

Word to the wise, when I’m on some particularly tight deadline, you may again be called upon to mimic the “house style,” which is to say my style, even though, clearly, we’d also be staying at your house. It has come to my attention that I must remain “off the grid” for the good of the mission, but so long as you have a couch, we will both be comfortable. If your couch is a sofa bed, then all the better for you. But I digress, if you’re going to continue handling my correspondence and penning the occasional byline piece for me, Sherman, I insist that you ratchet up the brilliance, otherwise no one will believe it’s me.

Remember, per our confidentiality agreement, you must never repeat any detail or reveal the nature of our missions apart from those relating to the range and scope of my indefatigable sexual prowess, the beauty of my mistresses or similar points of interest relevant to the maintenance of my legend.

You must be willing to take a bullet for me (and not quibble when I hand you the smoking gun). This is meant both figuratively and literally. As you know, I will never pass the buck, literally, but will compensate with countless figurative buck-passings. In this capacity, rest assured, you are always on my mind.

That said, you’ve been very anxious about your fee lately ? must I remind you that you’re still in your trial period? Every time you raise the specter of your compensation, it tells me that you indeed require more apprenticeship. Frankly, you’re beginning to tax my generosity. Stop delaying your future! That’s not fair to either of us, is it? Especially me. Don’t you agree? Of course you do. You’re so goddamn predictable. You truly bore me, Sherman. Truly. Remember, I’m not looking for a “yes man,” but more of a “yes, sir man.”

Merry X-mas.