Free My Gun Has Bullets by Lee Goldberg

He'd always had a corner office. How could he be expected to work in a room with only one window?
    "Yes, very well. I've been looking at this board," Delbert said. "Explain it to me."
    But Eddie's mind was still on more important matters. If he had the tiny office, that meant he'd be sharing a bathroom with the office staff. Well, that was unacceptable. He'd slap an EXECUTIVE BATHROOM sign on there if he had to write it on the door himself with a Magic Marker. They could walk to the commissary to piss from now on.
    "It's the primetime schedule." Eddie was thinking it was imperative that a phone be installed in the bathroom. That could take a day or two. Until then, he'd have to bring his cellular with him. Damn, he'd need to charge up some extra batteries.
    "I know that," Delbert said, trying to be patient. Because if he lost his patience, he could slit Eddie's throat with a paper clip. "Tell me who the players are and what they want. Tell me their strengths and their weaknesses. Don't leave out a thing, no matter how insignificant you might think it is."
    Delbert had wanted Eddie Planet removed before he got there. But Daddy Crofoot felt they needed him, at least for a while. Eddie Planet was their legitimate front and a tour guide to the business. Delbert could accept that. But he got Crofoot's personal assurance that once Eddie Planet was no longer useful, he could be discarded in whatever manner Delbert wanted.
    Delbert could think of a few right now.
    Eddie had no way of knowing how much his life depended on what he said next. Perhaps something in Delbert's dead eyes gave him a hint. Because suddenly Eddie was aware that his armpits were drenched. He approached the board, trying hard to force out the image of the cramped office he'd be inhabiting, and focus instead on the schedule in front of him.
    "Boo Boo's Dilemma is the most watched show on television," Eddie said. "Everything that goes up against it is dead meat. UBC is virtually unbeatable the whole night. Thursday put the network on top."
    Eddie proceeded to quote, almost verbatim, the Daily Variety article he had read on the toilet only days before, leaving out, of course, the bleak future they predicted for Frankencop. "They're vulnerable at ten p.m., where I firmly believe our show will eventually kick the shit out of My Gun Has Bullets."
    "Eventually?" Delbert said.
    "I meant definitely," Eddie replied quickly. "Without a doubt. I'm just not one to toot my own horn." The remark reminded Eddie that if he used his cellular in the bathroom, he'd be left without one in his car. He liked to have one in his car even when he wasn't in it. If he didn't, what was the point of having a car phone answering service?
    "Continue," Delbert said, his eyes locked on the board.
    "UBC fights for time periods the rest of the week, winning more than it loses, but the only other night it really owns is Sunday," Eddie explained. "But Miss Agatha is getting tired and Red Highway is attracting the kids. Most of UBC's hits across the board are a few years old, they got maybe a season or two left in 'em. Don DeBono's gotta find some new hits, or they're gonna fall to third place as fast as they climbed to first."
    Delbert had stalked Don DeBono. He knew where he lived. What he ate. Who he fucked. He could take him out anytime.
    "DBC has no fucking idea what it's doing. They are dead last and willing to try anything. I hear they've got David Soul lined up for Citizen Kane: The Series." Eddie continued: "MBC's a strong second on most nights, but their longest-running series, that piece of shit Dedicated Doctors, is dead on Thursday. Johnny Wildlife is big with the Michael Landon crowd, so maybe it's got a shot if Morrie Lustig, the putz who runs MBC, moves it to another night. And they've got us, which, if you ask me, is their secret weapon and their next big, breakout hit."
    Delbert turned to Eddie. "What do you propose we do?"
    "Like I told Daddy, it's really out of our hands," Eddie