I know there's only one thing that's going to get me out of this. I begin to feign my own death.
"Can't you see Leonard Nimoy buying up the rights to 'In Search of... Herschel Walker's Neck'? Or Johnson & Johnson dental floss acquiring the rights to John Elway's teeth? 'Buy it in the 3,000-yard size!' "
Using an Indian death mantra, I have nearly stopped my pulse, but it's no use. He puts a mirror to my nose to prove I'm breathing.
"Come to think of it," Dalton says, "your schnoz ain't exactly petite. Disney could buy the rights to it. You know, Pinocchio: The Sequel. I'm telling you. We could take this idea straight to the bank!"
I'm a beaten man. I know Dalton isn't going to stop until I give in. I let loose a deep sigh.
"Right," I say. "And think of what they could do with those giant cars of yours! Maybe you could advertise for a sonar manufacturer! Or maybe a ham-radio company! 'If you can't pickup Beijing on you ears, try mine!' "
Dalton's face falls like a sack of flour. He turns abruptly to leave, stopping only long enough to put me in my place. "Boy," he says, "some people have no sense of marketing."