Glory is Fleeting, My Friend

Oh, I wish I could describe it to you. I really truly do. It was a feeling unlike anything else. That feeling of suddenly finding yourself on top of the world....everything coming together as beautifully as if the moment were designed by God himself. And it happened again and again, that was the amazing part of it. As you begin your career as a writer, all I can hope for you is that you're lucky enough to experience just a handful of those moments.

What can I say? We would all be there in the room, slaving away for hours....debating, deciding, crossing out good ideas, throwing away even better ones....the sun slanting through the windows, telling us we were about to miss another dinner....and then one of us would come up with something workable, and a second person would, little by little, mold that into a scene....we would find ourselves swept up in an inexplicable momentum as dialogue began to develop, all of us shouting suggestions, rising out of our seats....and I would hunch over the typewriter, typing frantically, as the scene grew and grew....until I sensed the exact moment when the absolutely perfect time had come to give it the icing it needed. In the midst of the din, I would hold my index finger the air, and there would come a total silence, and in the stillness that followed I would smile wide and methodically type those words which once again transported us:

ARNOLD (frowning)
Whatchoo talkin' 'bout, Willis?

And after that, we would all just sigh and lean back in our chairs, knowing we had earned our keep and that the rest of the session would be a cakewalk. Ah, if you can ever know the satisfaction we felt....wait, are you asleep again? Jesus. Next time, have a few more vodkas before the entree even comes, all right? You're pathetic.