As I slowly sipped my Cognac and admired the bright morning scene outside my office window, I couldn't help but smile in smug satisfaction. My little verbal assault on the ladies of the View yesterday would surely have generated sufficient complaints that I would not be required to do anymore of these annoying press shows. I wasn't particularly surprised when the phone rang.

"Hello," I said, in a warm friendly voice.

"Charlie baby! What the hell did you do on the View?!" the familiar voice of the CBS network executive boomed. He sounded incredibly agitated. I chuckled silently.

"That's just who I am," I told him. "I was just being myself. Can't help it. Sorry."

"Sorry? What are you talking about? You were perfect! What you did is all over the media! Everybody's talking about it!"

"What?"

"Last week I had to twist arms to get you any air time. Now every show in the country is clammoring to have you on!"

"You're kidding." I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

"You're doin' the Daily Show with Jon Stewart this afternoon. The car will be by in a few minutes."

Damn.