I've been fired.
Sacked. Downsized. Let go.
Terminated, dismissed, shown the door, discharged...oh, why am
I using a thesaurus? I'm not an editor anymore!
Mr. Self-Made, hereafter known as "the backstabber," has fired
me as his editor. I win one round of golf against the guy and suddenly he needs
to take "drastic cost-cutting measures."
I suggested he learn to sharpen pencils instead of just throwing
them out when they get dull. He said he likes that "new pencil smell."
Anyhow, as my last official act as editor, I'm refusing to publish
this week's review. It was a classic, full of pith and insight. Laughs
and insider information were a-plenty, let me assure you.
And the disk it was on is now in the shake machine at "Carl's Junior."
Self-Made Critic's Note: