“Illiterate copy.”
“That bad, huh?”
“Hideous. People can’t write.”
“That’s not news.”
“Yeah. I fix it, make it look good and make it make sense.”
“So?”
“They get the credit for content that’s sooooo well done.”
“And you?”
“I toil anonymously. Make silk purses out of sow’s ears. Ink-stained wretch, c'est moi.”
“Who uses ink anymore? Everyone writes and edits on computers.”
“No shit.”
“Well, at least you like what you do.”
“I really should set up a Lucy stand. ‘Edits while you wait.’”
“Five cents?”
“No way. Show me the money!”