"Hey, Teddy Baby, hey! We love it! That story you wrote on June 9, 2003 -- remember?" said the guy with the pink shirt and sunglasses.
"Uh, what? That was over five years ago. What story was that?" I replied, politely not punching him in the face for calling me Teddy Baby.
"The one with the guy in the bowling alley? With the old alchemists, and San Francisco taking over Seattle? We love it! We want to buy the rights for a big money movie. Only, we were thinking instead of a guy in a bowling alley, it's a war hero who stops San Francisco terrorists from taking over Seattle, and selling severed human heads to make huge money. And he has a sidekick who's a police officer's daughter and a kung fu master. And they go on a road trip with a prizewinning monkey!"
"Uh, that wasn't actually a story, you know. I write a journal of the things that sincerely happen to me -- I've never written any fiction in my life ever," I said.
"Suuuuure," he said, "so, then, let's drop the human heads and the Seattle thing, and just make it a road trip comedy with a prizewinning monkey. We've already got the perfect monkey."
"So you want to pay me the rights for a diary entry I wrote, but alter it completely beyond recognition?" I asked, incredulously.
"You bet!" they all said in non-unison.