Brickstein appeared deep in thought until a light bulb appeared above his head. "The last will and testament of famous fictional characters," he said.
"Forget it," EE said. It doesn't involve me. My minions prefer exercises in which I make an appearance, or at least those with taste do. I assume."
Dinkwaddle said, "EE turns on the water to draw a bubble bath and then leaves the room to get a manuscript to read in the tub. When he returns he finds Penelope Cruz in his bath."
"Get real," EE said. "We need something at least moderately credible. My readers know I would never risk spoiling a relaxing bubble bath by bringing along some hack writer's vomitous scribblings."
"Evil Loan Shark." It was Phlegmbottom. "You lend . . . no, that's small potatoes. Evil Serial Killer! You're like Hannibal Lecter, but evil! Wait! Evil Mafia Don! You're like Marlon Brando, but fatter. Your family members come to you with requests, and you turn them all down. Or Evil Marriage Counselor! You sit in for your marriage counselor friend who's got swine flu. Wait, I've got it! Thanks to a massive number of write-in votes from blog readers, you're elected president of the United States!"
"Hmm. Could happen, I suppose. But it's all setup. Where's the laughs?"
"Instead of vetoing legislation," Phlegmbottom replied, "you send congress form rejection slips. And your vice president is Penelope Cruz. And she's annoyed that you have a bigger bathtub than hers, so she's always sneaking into your--"
"I've heard enough," EE said. "Finally we're getting somewhere. The rest of you need to take a lesson from Phlegmbottom, here. Say Phlegmy, how'd you like to take over the blog when I retire?"