In an effort to get the key to the Subway across the street, Kip, my roommate, has come up with a clever plan. Since I'm super-famous, we figure it's only a matter of time before Jared wants to shoot a commercial with me. While the cameras are rolling I'll smile, speak in a calm TV voice, and put my arm on Jared's shoulder. But when the cameras are off our plan swings into action. After taping we invite Jared up to our apartment for bourbon and soda. When he's good and looped we'll tie him to a chair. I'll hold him and Kip will make with the duct tape. Without his sandwich fix, Jared will soon go pale, clammy, and his hands will twitch. His addiction to subs will be his undoing.
We'll start with an interrogation. "Where's the key, Jared? Don't play dumb. We know you have a golden key that opens every Subway."
He'll most likely pretend that the golden key doesn't exist. I'll pretend that I don't know where it is. It's on a necklace under his shirt. Getting the key would be simple if I were just a common chain-snatcher. That's not the point. The point is for Jared to give it to me. He has to want me to have it.
When every cell in his body is crying out for his precious junk he'll finally break. He'll tell me to take the key from around his neck as long as I promise to make him a sandwich. I imagine he'll be heaped up next to the door when Kip and I finally let ourselves in.
You'd think I'd want to keep Jared weak and unhealthy but I don't. I'll nurse him back to health with hearty provolone cheese, extra olives, and the antioxidants in bell peppers. When he's back to his old self I'll grab him by his collar, crush his knee with a savage kick, and throw him into my sleeper hold. He'll want mercy. His hands will tap my arms, he'll go loose against the cold tile and I'll be yelling into his ear. "I hate you, Jared Fogle! I hate you! The golden key is mine! Do you understand? I hate you, Jared!"
WHAT I WILL AND WON'T WATCH THIS WEEK
Thursday, July 28
10 News Midday
ABC 11:00 a.m.
When I was in the Navy, believe it or not, I was known as "The Voice of Reason." A typical exchange that landed me this moniker would be: "Let's go to Mexico to get meth. It's only 4 a.m. now, it'll be 5 by the time we get back and we can have a drink at the Silver Fox by 6."
I don't think that's such a good idea.
"Damn! The Voice of Reason speaks. All right, bad idea."
Only in such a situation would I ever be known as the sensible one.
Queer Eye for the Straight Guy
BRAVO 8:00 p.m.
If you're a bachelor and don't have a scrubby brush with a long handle in your shower, then your back is dirty. Get one of the brushes or a girlfriend. Your choice.
Friday, July 29
Loretta Lynn's Haunted Plantation
TRAV 7:00 p.m.
What on Earth? Loretta Lynn has a haunted plantation? I'm guessing her bothersome specter is the ghost of her long, lost career.
Fly-Fishing the World
OLN 7:30 p.m.
My latest thing is to switch the word "crap" with the word "carp." However, one does not "take a carp." One "sets a carp free."
Saturday, July 30
The Surreal Life
VH1 11:30 a.m.
I came for Balki Bartokomous. I stayed for Omarosa.
Sunday, July 31
DHC 4:00 p.m.
You know what is funny? Test-tube babies. I don't even think they make test-tube babies anymore. They've been replaced by the less funny clones.
Monday, August 1
Who Wants to Be a Millionaire
KGTV 7:00 p.m.
I've noted a trend among luxury car owners to eschew the funny or witty vanity plate and go directly for territorial. "LIZ BMW" or "TONYJAG." Get it out there. Don't mess around with subtlety. Walk up, kick people in the shins, and let them know it's your damned Mercedes. Look! Right there. It has your name on it. Hold them by the ear and rub their nose on the registration tags if they're not paying attention.
Tuesday, August 2
Weather: Evening Edition
TWC 6:00 p.m.
My stomach sank and the string that ties me to the weather brought the clouds in last week. My gray mood matched the sky. The light sprinkle felt good against my wrists and cleaned the air. When the clouds left town I rode my bike in the sun.
Wednesday, August 3
ESPN 3:00 p.m.
Speaking of bikes, old one-nut won his seventh le Tour de Freedom. If he dropped that pooch Sheryl Crow he'd quickly take the Coolest Guy in the World title from Danny Trejo.
Thursday, August 4
FNC 8:00 p.m.
I need a factor named after me. The Ollie Factor. That'd be cool. Or a maneuver, like Heimlich's.