I am fascinated by celebrity endorsements. As talented and clever as I may be, I just can't understand how they work. I mean, does Morris really eat that Nine Lives crap? It smells terrible. I found a pile of it in my bowl once and I thought it was some kind of bad practical joke. I couldn't even go near it. Vile doesn't even begin to describe the foul odor. I'm sure it's filled with all kinds of filler and by-products that cats are supposed to adore. Ground fish guts and lamb ears and that sort of thing. Like I said, it's just plain VILE. I hope Morris made a ton of money selling that crap. He must have been either starving to death or starved for attention.
And what about Bob Dole? Do you think he held out, waiting for that call from Viagra? Don't you think maybe he would have liked to attach his name to some other product? Pineapples, perhaps? And what was June Allyson thinking? Depends? She must have lost her marbles and thought she was back at MGM, dancing the incontinental.
So, what does all of this have to do with me, you might ask? Well, trusted readers, I am toying with the idea of lending my well-known household name to a product. My advisers and agents have lined up a prospective product endorsement for me. They insist it's more a public service announcement than an advertisement. The product is a remedy for a problem I face right here in my own home, in my own bed. No, it's not erectile dysfunction. It's a little more delicate that that. So delicate, in fact, that I haven't even mentioned it before. Can I confide in you? Just between us, Jett has a problem he seems to be completely unaware of. Sometimes, it's just frightening. Night after night, I am awakened by a gurgling sound, followed by an explosive sound and then a horrible smell. At first, I thought something had gone bad in the refrigerator. Or maybe some poor rat had crawled into the walls and died. But that wasn't it. It was Jett. I don't want to embarrass him, but this is a subject that should be discussed. He suffers from nocturnal explosions. When the windows aren't open, I have to run from the room just to get a breath of fresh air.
And now my agent has sent me this offer to be the celebrity spokescat for an amazing new product. Here's the script:
"Hello everyone. I'd like to talk to you about a new product. Do you feel bloaty? Are you gassy? Do you suffer from nocturnal explosions? My brother does. Oh, it's just disgusting. Really. It ruins my sleep. I didn't know what to do. And then I discovered this fine new product - DYNO-NITE - the all natural remedy for the temporary relief of nocturnal explosions. At first, I was skeptical. I didn't think anything would solve this smelly problem. I was delirious from lack of sleep. Some nights, I was blown right off the bed. And then somebody suggested that Jett try DYNO-NITE NO-XPLODE. So I slipped some into his Fancy Feast. And was I surprised!! No more explosions. He sleeps contentedly through the night and so do I. So, if you or someone you love is exploding in the night, try DYNO-NITE NO-XPLODE today. It's DA BOMB!"
What do you think? Should I accept? Should I lend my prodigious talent to endorse this product? Or would it cheapen my image? It's a big decision. Oh, what would June Allyson do?