A co-worker came in, took one look at me, and gave me a look like “What do you have to say?”

Trying to be clever, I ripped an expression right out of some poor director’s mouth and said, “Ever feel like you’re climbing the wrong ladder?”

He just looked at me for a second and said, “Ladder? You’re at the top of a step stool. Even if you climb down and try to climb another ladder, you’ll just find yourself at the top of another step stool. You’re surrounded by step stools. Hell, there’s not a ladder in sight.”

I know what you think I should do. I’m already on it. Once I put together the most kick ass band in the world, I’m going to invite that guy to the concert and put him in the front row. When I sing my smash hit, “Satan’s Stool,” I’ll put a spotlight on him and keep it there during the whole song just like Phil Collins did to that dude back in ‘86. Then, to really make my point, I’m going to end the set by climbing a giant ladder right into Satan’s mouth just as all the explosions go off.

And the crowd. will. go. Nuts.

While he’s holding up his lighter and weeping, he’ll be thinking, “Whoa. I was wrong. I was so wrong.”

I’ll send a roadie out to get him and we’ll laugh about what a fool he was. Then, I’ll probably invite him backstage so he can hang out with the band and see the big pile of hookers and leather arm bands we keep stashed back there. I’ll probably even give him a couple of our “Wretched Agony: Live II” tour shirts to take home to the wife and kids. And don’t think that I’m going to skimp and give him the cheap shirts, either. He’ll get the $40 ones with baseball sleeves and the big demon laughing behind that angry, half-naked warrior chick with the big boobs on the front, and all the tour dates on the back. You know the one. It’s the one you wanted right before they sold out.

And he’ll wear that $40 shirt and tell the story to his grandkids about what a fool he was to doubt me that day about my clever, stolen ladder idea.

And I will finally be climbing the right ladder. Every night. All around the world.

Right into Satan’s mouth.

[pyrotechnics]

Posted in Music, Work