 My mother named me Tad. A likely story. Are you free tomorrow night? Tomorrow night? I thought you were sweating under a deadline. Am I speaking to the attractive young woman who sought me out in my favorite coffee shop, or to Martin Marcus' script girl? Same person. That's the catch. How's the soup? Watery. Fifty-three minutes of material with so few days to write it. I can't imagine how you people do it. Which people? Writers. Hmm.