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- Harry?
Harry!
Harry, are you in there?
Harry, I'm coming in.
Coffee in the office.
If we don't pull our fingers out, we'll miss the deadline.
See you there.
- Sorry.
It's a habit I picked up when I was a cub.
In those days, it was the only way
to get through a night shift.
I'll tell you, look at all this crap.
Fifteen years on the job and it still comes in every week;
the same tales of woe, hardship,
heartbreak and confusion.
And each week we print the same snappy,
sharp, cynical advice.
- Some of it must be fun, Harry.
- It's all so our lecherous little readers
can click their tongues in comfort
over their Sunday morning coffee.
Half of it's bullshit.
And the rest...
Well, half of that's made up as well.
- You're just an old cynic.
Anyway, I'm here to take the load now.
Come tomorrow, you'll be out in the bay fishing.
You need never have to worry about it again.
- Oh, you're right, you know. I'll miss it.
Fifteen years as "dear Colette."
It's gotta rub off on you, somehow.
- I suppose they'll keep me as "dear Colette," too.
-Ah, yes, in the troubled eyes of our loyal readership,
Colette is immortal.
Change the name and the myth would vanish.
- Be nice to get your own byline.
- Well, you'd have half the creeps in town ringing up
making personal calls to the office.
Ah, Colette's better.
The switch knows how to deal with them.
- How?
- Putting them straight through to Mildred.
- The tea lady?
- Yeah, what else do you think she does between tea breaks?
They'd the sorry ones, believe me.
No one... but no one... out-talks Mildred.
Now you stick to Colette, she served me well.
- Red ink. - Red ink?
- Yeah, dead giveaway.
Who writes with red ink anymore?
- Well.
- Well, no one, that's who.
Except my old red-handed mate.
Never misses a week. Same old words,
same old four-letter abuse.
I never, ever open official looking letters.
- Why not?
- Public service is full of them.
Well, here we go, then.
I'll have the first lucky dip.
Here's cheers.
"Dear Colette, perhaps you could help me with a problem.
I guess you could say I've led a fairly sheltered life.
One of my few pleasures is reading,
and so I often visit the local library with a friend.
The librarian is very strict, one of the old school,
and will not tolerate any breach of the rules."
Cindy.
- Oh!
Oh!
_ "since the incident,
I haven't dared go back to the library again,
and I already owe $37.50 in fines for being overdue.
My life's a mess, my friend won't talk to me,
and I'm reduced to buying paperbacks.
What can I do?
Signed, bookworm."
- That's a good one.
Don't believe a word of it. Still, it'll make good reading.
Now, let's see. Uh...
"Dear bookworm,
I must say, your librarian friend has a novel approach..."
Uh...
"To come upon you like that in the Greek section.
My advice is that you get yourself a new friend
and slip it in later. The book, that is.
And that way, you'll be able to dodge the fine
and..." uh..."Get back to hardcovers."
Yeah, that'll do.
Now, one down, nine to go. Next.
"Dear Colette, I'm a college student
and a very keen gymnast.
Mr. Bates, our gym master,
has always taken a special interest in me.
He says I have a special aptitude.
Afew months ago,
I was in the gym loosening up on the trampoline
after classes when Mr. Bates came in
and gave me some coaching."
There, now we won't be disturbed.
- Yes, Mr. Bates.
- I've asked you to stay because, well...
I have hopes for you.
Yes, out of all my senior year students,
you're the only one that has any
aptitude to become a champion.
What I thought we'd do would be to
run through some of the basics, limber up,
and generally get to know each other,
so that as coach and pupil
we can reach a full understanding.
- That's very kind of you, Mr. Bates.
- Not at all.
Well, let's see.
What I thought we'd do would be to start off 119