So Gud made a director. He had never made one before but they are easily made, as they can be made out of most anything.
"Well, I see we have the scenario," remarked the director, when Gud had finished making him, "but it hasn't the proper ending."
"I am sorry," said the author, "but I didn't write a proper ending as I knew you would use your own anyway."
"I know his ending," cried the ugly old soul, "and it is very beautiful—it's the one where—"
"Shut up, you old fool," bawled the director, "don't you know you will spoil the suspense by telling the audience how it is going to end?"
"But in this case we have a real plot," said the author, "and it ought not to be mutilated—"
"Shut up, you conceited pup," howled the director, "and here, take your scenario and have it printed if you like. I don't need it anyway."
And so the author took the scenario and folded it and put it in his inside pocket and walked away, inhaling angrily on his last cigarette.
"Now," spoke the director, "as that infernal ass is gone we can get busy."
"What can I do?" asked Gud.