Chapter 46

AND IN OTHER NEWS…

I’m cranking away like crazy on my Vegas routines, filling brand-new notebooks with ideas and jumping-off points. For instance, confidence in a tube. I could riff on that for hours. I mean, what else could they put in a tube? Happiness? Boredom? Oh, wait. Boredom in a tube is TV.…

Fortunately, Gilda has volunteered to help me turn my material into what she calls solid gold.

Yes, she has forgiven me for my Cool Girl goof-up.

Or maybe she remembers how I (in a fit of improvisational fury) called her hot onstage in Boston. Maybe hot is better than cool when you’re a girl.

Anyway, I’m glad Gilda is in my corner. She’s a pretty good critic and coach.

“Okay,” Gilda says one day after school, “let’s look at what Letterman and Leno do.”

“Well, they usually come out and do a monologue of jokes at the start of their shows.”

“Exactly. And what’s the monologue about?”

“I dunno. Stuff. Whatever happened that day.”

Gilda touches a finger to her nose. “Bingo. Current events.” She pulls a newspaper out of her backpack. “You ever hear of a comedian named Mort Sahl?”

“Sure. Instead of doing one-liners, he’d just walk onstage with that day’s newspaper and go.”

Gilda hands me the paper. “Go!” she says.

“Really?”

“Go.”

“This is the Style section.…”

“Go!”

“Okay.” I scan the headlines.

MODEL WEARS MOST UNFLATTERING DRESS EVER

And I go.

“I don’t know if you people heard about this demon dress in New York City. Apparently, it came alive and started saying stuff like ‘Yes, I make you look fat. I also make you look dumb. Why dumb? Because you’re wearing me, the most unflattering dress ever.’ ”

Gilda’s grinning her face off. “Exactly. Just do that a couple of times a day,” she suggests. “Find a random headline and do something wacky with it.”

“Okay. What else?”

“Phineas and Ferb,” says Gilda. “Beavis and Butt-Head. What makes these people funny?”

“Well, for one thing, they’re not people. They’re cartoons.”

“More, please.”

“Well, Beavis and Butt-Head are like a pair of six-year-olds trapped inside the bodies of teenagers.”

“You mean they’re idiots.”

“Yeah. That’s why they’re funny. Everybody thinks they’re smarter than two idiots like Beavis and Butt-Head.”

Gilda nods. “They’re rude and ugly idiots, too.”

“That’s even funnier. Beavis and Butt-Head say whatever’s on their minds with no editing. Just like Cool Girl.”

Gilda rolls her eyes. “Again with the Cool Girl?”

“No, I’m just saying…”

“What? Suzie Orolvsky would be the ‘hot chick’ in your ‘hot red Staaang’ instead of me if you knew how to pronounce her last name?”

I smile.

For one thing, it’s nice to know Gilda remembers what I said about her in Boston.

For another, she just gave me an awesome idea for a bit.

“That’s great,” I say.

“What?”

“Picking a girlfriend based on how easy it is to pronounce her name. I mean, it’s hard enough for guys to call girls without getting all tangled up trying to say their names. ‘Uh, hello, is this, uh, Onyi Nwokeji? Er, Onyay Nowaykeyjee. Onion Nwookiee.’ Or what if they have a horrible last name and you have to meet their parents? ‘Oh, hello, Mr. and Mrs. Buttington. Fanny has told me so much about you.’ ”

Gilda’s laughing and shaking her head. “Fanny Buttington? That’s just dumb.”

“Yep,” I say proudly. “Beavis-and-Butt-Head dumb.”