After an Artist’s Anonymous meeting, three writers were sitting around talking about the upcoming Fourth of July.
“The fireworks have already started at my house,” the first writer said, “The dog died, my wife left me, and the car wouldn’t start and that’s why I was late getting here.”
The second writer shook his head, “Change that car to a truck and you could write a country song about it.”
“No,” the third writer said, “change the car to a dragon and you could have a fantasy story about a dragon who kills a man’s dog and kidnaps his princess wife.”
“Nah,” said the first writer. “I think I’ll leave as it is. The dog’s was my wife’s and the car was in her name. And right about now she’s probably finding out the guy she left me for wasn’t such a bargain, either.”
“Why do you say that?” the other two writers asked.
“Because he was my agent.”