In which our Publisher Emeritus eviscerates Seinfeld and a number of faceless attorneys…
Transcribed after the jump…
Jefferey Postnerak / Wylie Agency / N.Y. / June ’02
You’ve become as useful as a convicted sex-fiend who’s been sentenced to have his nuts chopped off. To wit: Did you ever “look into” those Ted Nancy letters I forwarded to the office?
Don’t give me anymore of yr. dunce-shrugs either, because after a few nights of heavy facsimile exchanges & predawn phone calls, I discovered that this Nancy Tar-baby is actually Jerry Seinfeld & this whole whore faced pissing contest I’ve been roped into revolves around some addled-brained TV scheme he’s pitched to ABC.
That’s right, buck, Seinfeld’s the giddy little bastard who’s behind all the Asterick bullshit. Seinfeld is Nancy. Nancy is Asterisk. The Bush administration may not be able to connect these fucking dots, but you sure as hell should’ve been able to….
And thanks to yr. delinquency, I have some Yo-yo named Barry Marder hounding me for consent to use all the faxes I fired off to that fucknut Seinfeld. This is certainly a poisonous bucket of ricks we’ve got on our hands buck, because those letters are full of pure, foul hearted rage & we’ll have to be on constant Code Red to prevent that Poconos chuckle-boy from exploiting them on one of his slaphappy sitcoms.
No one at Wylie better even contemplate dropping the ball on this one. I will not permit my name, image or likeness to be used by Seinfeld or any other hackneyed comedic lint-head he’s in bed with. I’ve already been through a lecherous shitstorm with that Trudeau weasel & I’m in no mood to go through another one….
So get a red carpet rolled out for some high-decibel saber rattling ASAP. And I don’t want to hear any whimpering about discretion $ protocol & industry courtesies. Just get on the fucking bullhorn & warn CAA that a) If Seinfeld so much as mentions my initials in public, I’m going to carpet-bomb him, ABC & CAA with every legal action conceivable; and b) unless Seinfeld wants to risk buckshot castration, he better not plan on bringing his act to the Wheeler anytime soon.
Also, let’s start coordinating a way to put some sort of lid on the swill the Post has been sloshing around. Since when did I become Murdoch’s Page Six poster boy? Shit on Him. And shit on you, too, if you can’t stop greasing yr. crotch in Novocain jelly & start earning your keep.