Captain Picard

A former roomdog of mine went to Cal Arts. One of his friends was Patrick Stewart's son. One of his other friends (and mine too) was a gentleman named Ken, who had an absolutely enormous loft in the warehouse district of downtown Los Angeles. Real bad neighbohood, but I could pull my car straight into the freight elevator and park it in the loft. He had a gigantic slot-car track and a pool table.

Ken had a job answering Patrick Stewart's mail, which mainly consisted of stuffing envelopes with autographed pictures.

At the time, I was violating Rule #4 of The Code Of The North, which is "you don't shit where you eat". That is to say, I had become involved with a young lady where I worked, whom I'll call Ivy. This was kept a deep secret from all colleagues. Except for maybe once; she lived in Venice a few blocks from my producer. He saw me leaving her apartment early one morning, and raised a quizzical eyebrow, but never said anything.

(Aside, and Pro Tip: do not strike up a relationship with someone ten years younger than you. It don't work.)

Ivy had one of those lifesize cardboard standup things of Patrick Stewart as Jean-Luc Picard. She used to decorate it with Post-It notes of moustaches, lipstick, necklaces, earrings, and things like that.

Roomdog and I got the brilliant idea of abducting him, getting him signed by Mr. Stewart, and returning him the next day. Ken and his roomdog Skippy came by one night and did the deed.

Unfortunately, the cast of ST:TNG went to London for something or another the next day, so the cutout stayed absent for a long time.

She asked me point-blank if I had taken him, to which I was able to truthfully answer "no", because I hadn't. Ken and Skip did. At the time of his kidnapping, he was adorned with a Post-It Hitler-esque moustache.

After about three weeks, Ivy got really fed up. She asked me if I knew anything about Captain Picard, to which I was forced to answer "yes", and she was furious. She claimed I lied to her the first time, so I pointed out that she'd asked if I'd taken him, which I hadn't, not if I knew anything about it, which I did. She wasn't buying any of it, and told me he'd better be back in one hour or I'd be nooky-starved for the rest of my life.

Forty-five minutes later, in the nick of time, enter Ken and Skip, carrying Captain Picard, signed and dedicated to her by Patrick Stewart with a gold pen. She burst into tears.

I snickered all the way back to her place.

Mr. Stewart called the next day to say hello to roomdog, and I talked to him briefly. Imagine the Jean-Luc Picard voice saying "That bloody moustache made me look like Hitler!"