Fact is Fiction and TV reality: The Colvin Doctrine

This was Mr Colvin's first gmail after learning he'd cracked the gains over at the old e-zine. I can only shake my head and mutter, "Dear boy."


Dear Mr. Rorschalk,

That is great! As for the interview, I'll pass the questions on to Portus,
although I think he is none too happy that I wrote about him in general, or
his wife in particular. The whole moustache
thing. He told me that if his wife sees the story she'll kick my sorry
middle-aged fat-boy writer-wanna-be nerd ass. I think that is how he
phrased it. I plan to stay away from the Zippy Mart for a few days,
although it is one of my favorite haunts (My GOD, do I ever suffer from
insomnia! And where in the hell else are you going to go when it's three
A.M. in Loogootee?)

I'm not scared at all of the Portus, but I do have a pretty intense fear of
his wife. She's nearly as tall and broad as the Portus and has a brow
ridge, by the way. She looks as if she could bench press around 300 lbs and
toss a dwarf at least 20 yards, even though she is now nine months pregnant.
On the few occasions I have seen them together, she bossed him around like
he was an insecure four-year-old.

To be honest, I have never actually seen a moustache on her, but she has
dark, dark, hair on her forearms, and thick black eyebrows (mismatched with
her blonde hair), so I strongly suspect . . .

Shit, I probably should not have said any of that. That's worse than the
moustache. Please forget I said . . . those things. I really need to do
something about my drinking. At least the morning drinking. I mean, if I
can just wait until 8 P.M. to crack the seal on that first bottle of
bourbon, it means I'm okay, right?