Hi. How are you? I hope you had a good year. Please give my best to your wife. She’s such a special lady. Make sure she calls me if she ever wants to try acting. Without a doubt, Mrs. Claus is beautiful enough to become a Hollywood star in no time.
Did you enjoy the assistant I sent you? Bill did a terrible job at my office, but since he’s short, I figured he’d fit in with your elves. If you’re not satisfied, please don’t send him back. Just toss him in the snow. Bill’s from Vancouver, so I’m sure he’ll be fine.
Have you checked your list yet? Have you checked it twice? I’m guessing you have. That means you know I’ve been a little extra naughty this year. But hey, that’s the nature of my job. I have to lie and steal and cheat. That’s how I keep the money coming in. I’m assuming you’ll cut me a little slack on that, especially after I renegotiated your global merchandising deal. I’m sure all that extra cash from China will buy some grade-A meals for your reindeer!
Anyway, I know you’re busy getting ready for the big day, so let’s cut to the chase. Here’s my annual gift list. I’ve kept it short and reasonable. You do right by me and I’ll do right by you.
(FYI: I hear North Korea might be willing to let you option those flyover rights we discussed. No pressure. I’m just throwing that out there…)
So here we go. I would like to find the following under my tree this year:
I want 10 perfect clients. They should be under 25. Don’t waste my time with 30-year-olds who think they can play younger.
Give me an even split on gender and make sure everyone’s gorgeous and well-trained in both comedy and drama. I also need a nice mix on the race thing. Diversity is big these days. So throw in a little bit of everything.
Oh, I almost forgot. These actors should all be allergic to managers. Maybe they can break out in hives or something when a manager tries to approach them. A little projectile vomiting would be good too.
You know how Jedi Knights use the force to make others bend to their will? I want some of that. That way, I can call casting directors and convince them to see my clients without having to beg.
I’d like a brand-new Tesla Roadster, the kind with the battery that doesn’t explode.
I want you to unleash a plague of locusts on my rivals, especially the big agencies like CAA. There’s so much I hate about those parasites. For example, an agent’s job is to develop talent, but they never do it. Instead, they let guys like me do all the hard work, and then they swoop in and steal our clients. Is that fair? No, I don’t think so. I think it’s pretty damn naughty, if you get my drift.
I guess you can throw in world peace, but that plague thing is what I really want so if you have to choose, go with the locusts.
And that’s it, big guy. I don’t feel like I’m over-reaching with this list. It’s all perfectly doable and within the Christmas spirit. So let’s make it happen!
And text me when you’re done making your rounds. We’ll grab a steak at Mastro’s and then we can meet up with some honeys at the Soho House. Seriously, we’ll do the town up right, Ari Gold style. No problem.
And I’d like that Tesla in silver, please.