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to… Simon Horne

cc…

re… Worried of Television

I’ve just bumped into David in the corridor and he congratulated me on being so close to finalising a deal with Quentin T. for Kimbelle. When I pleaded ignorance, he told me there was no need to be so coy, and that he knew negotiations were at an advanced stage.

Alarm bells are ring-a-ding-dinging. While I must say that ‘Reservoir Dogs meets the super-absorbent panty pad’ is an intriguing notion, I was not aware that any scripts were written yet. Are we not placing cart before horse? If we commit to QT and can’t deliver, I shudder to think …

Si, sweetheart, I know the strain on your shoulders has been immense lately, but I do hope we’re not digging ourselves into another hole, à la Little and Large. My contacts in 90210 tell me that a Tarantino spurned is a far more frightening prospect. Unlike them, he carries a Magnum and he knows how to use it. I feel a meeting is in order.