Lawrence Block - Ronald Rabbit Is a Dirty Old Man

Mr. Laurence Clarke

74 Bleecker Street

New York 10012

Dear Mr. Clarke:

You may recall that I once described you as having stowed away on a corporation. It would now appear that you are attempting to hang onto the hull of Whitestone Publications, Inc., with the tenacity of a barnacle. It is my sad duty to pry you loose and cast you adrift, hoping that you will escape the waves of poverty and reach the shores of gainful employment.

For some reason you seem disinclined to return our unintentional overpayment in the amount of $75.63. While I find your attitude deplorable, I cannot deny that I find it equally unsurprising. On the chance that your affairs were in litigation of some sort, I did direct a brief letter in this regard to the attorney you mentioned in your letter to my secretary. He replied over the telephone and I must admit I was quite incapable of making out what he was getting at. Either you are up to one of your intricate little pranks or you are desperately in need of a better-qualified legal counselor. The man was either terribly confused or a raving maniac.

But the overpayment is minor. While our legal staff would no doubt caution me against saying as much, we would be heartily glad to forget the $75.63 if it were equally possible to forget you in the bargain.

I refer, of course, to your continued unauthorized use of our Xerox machine.

You might be astonished, Mr. Clarke, to know quite how many memoranda your conduct has inspired. The most annoying aspect of all about your behavior is that you seem inclined to make an extra copy of everything you Xerox, which you then leave in the vicinity of the machine. These bits of Kilroy Was Here nonsense have been passed around several offices, particularly in the sales and editorial departments, and have occasioned slight amusement in certain quarters and considerable embarrassment for certain other parties. They also constitute a thorn in the side of the personnel responsible for supervising the Xerox machine. It would seem that you are to them as Robin Hood was to the Sheriff of Nottingham. Any number of traps have been laid for you, Mr. Clarke, but you seem to walk right through them. The situation is further complicated by the fact that no one seems to remember what you look like, due to the reclusive nature of your stay here and the lack of interaction between you and other employees. While your features are ineradicably engraved upon my own memory, I have better things to do than stand around all day watching the Xerox machine.

As you can no doubt appreciate, I am not able to view all of this without a certain degree of humor. My sense of humor is your life preserver, Mr. Clarke. A more humorless man would no doubt have you arrested.

I, on the other hand, merely wish to issue an order. At no time are you to make use of the Whitestone Publication, Inc., Xerox machine. At no time are you to enter the premises of Whitestone Publications, Inc. At no time are you to utilize any Whitestone letterhead, or to in any way identify yourself as editor of Ronald Rabbit’s Magazine for Boys and Girls .

Nor are you at any time to direct any obscene and insulting communications to my secretary, or any communications, obscene or otherwise, to me.

CF/rg

Mr. Clayton Finch,

Pres. Whitestone Publications, Inc.

67 West 44 thSt.

New York 10036

Dear Mr. Finch:

First of all, let me say that I hope you have no objections to my making use of my remaining stock of Ronald Rabbit’s stationery. I took it along only because you suggested that I clean out my desk, and a stack of letterheads and envelopes was all I could find. I felt that the letterhead of a defunct magazine bearing the name of an editor no longer in your employ would be of small use to anyone at Whitestone. I know that such material is occasionally put to use as scrap paper. It seemed to me at the time, however, that Whitestone was in little danger of a scrap-paper shortage, what with the constant stream of executives seeking new employment and the sad parade of magazines and whole divisions folding up and vanishing into limbo.

In any case, I resolved at the time to use the Ronald Rabbit’s letterhead only for correspondence directly relating to the welfare of Whitestone. While I am no longer a member of the Whitestone crew, I still cannot help feeling a vested interest in the ship’s sailing a clearly charted course.

It is in this spirit that this present letter is offered, and I can only hope that it will prove valuable, to everyone from yourself as Captain of the Ship down to the lowliest member of the crew, and indeed to the whole entity that is Whitestone.

I have several suggestions, so let me take them one at a time:

(1) It seems to me that, while an incident well known to both of us (and to half the world) may have been responsible for the commercial failure of Ronald Rabbit’s, the magazine may have had a strike against it to begin with. I refer, of course, to the charge of male chauvinism which was ofttimes leveled at us. Could we not revive the magazine, in essentially the same format — though slightly updated, needless to say — but with a change of title? Reborn as Rachel Rabbit’s Magazine for Girls and Boys , it would seem that we would be au courant in a rather exciting way. I had first considered the title Rozanne Rabbit’s Magazine for Girls and Boys but rejected it for the time being on the grounds that it might provoke any number of “inside gags” in the publishing industry concerning an executive secretary with that first name who is possessed, if you will, of an insatiable appetite for carrots. This would not be a problem with Rachel, or, come to think of it, with Rosalie, Rhonda, Ruth or Rita.

(2) Should your reaction to (1) be favorable, I would beg to be considered for the post of editor. I should be glad to submit a resume upon request, and, if policy dictates, would willingly assume the nom de guerre of Laura Clarke for the term of employment.

(3) This last point may well be the most important of all. In any mammoth corporation, Mr. Finch, an executive is faced with the problem of delegating authority wisely. One cannot take too much upon one’s own shoulders, nor yet can one put too much trust in the good judgment of inferiors.

What brings this all home is a letter I today received. It seems to have originated from your office, and was either signed by a subordinate or, in the crush of daily work, was signed by yourself without you having taken the time to read it. A glance will assure you that you would not at your worst moment be capable of producing such drivel. While a letter of this sort directed to me would have no obvious repercussions, you can surely imagine the results if a more important letter were handled in this fashion. For that matter, even this particular letter could have unfortunate results should it be widely circulated among, for example, editorial and sales personnel. While the word laughingstock is a bit strong, I’m sure the point is clear to you.

In the event that you do not have a copy of the letter at hand, I am enclosing herewith a Xerox copy for your attention.

LC/s

Enc.

Miss Rozanne Gumbino