"Lady Show Business...

...is a fickle bitch, Orville." It is with those words that I had to break the news to our budding Olivier that his cinematic career had ended just as soon as it started. That's right folks. It pains me to tell you that no sooner had I broken the story to you good people and Variety magazine that I get the message all master thespians dread: "We've written you out of the script." I'd like to say that they opted for someone younger, pinker and fatter, but the reality was, they had to push back their shooting date several months, and they are afraid Orville will be too big by then, so they "killed" his character before he got a chance to bring "Sascha" to life.

As the picture will attest to, Orville was none too thrilled when I told him what had happened. He threw a Lohanesque fit, obliterating a cardboard box, and upending his food bowls like a rioting prison inmate. Seems he was already spending the loot in his head, undoubtedly on a bottomless pit of vegetarian slops. Maybe I shouldn't have asked for a 3 picture deal? Maybe I shouldn't have asked for points on the back end? Maybe I shouldn't have demanded to score the movie? Could it be that my demands are what led to the kibosh? I can only hope this rejection doesn't send Orville into a pit of despair, culminating in an eating binge, 30 days in rehab, and an US Weekly cover.

I guess the big O will have to make due with never-ending days of eating, drinking, and general merriment. At least until his next Brown Derby moment of discovery...