You see, I know everything there is to know about the music business. I'm talking all the ins and outs of the whole enchilada. So I figure, how hard's it gotta be to be a talent agent? I find you the talent, you pay me the moolah.

I'm scoping out the local schmucks - ahem, I mean, citizens - and I come across these kids with a pretty sweet deal going. "Kids Incorporated" they call themselves. Eh, we can come up with something better.

I walk in and WHOA! They ain't half bad! So, I says to myself, "Brendan, old buddy, you are gonna be RICH!!!" Piece of cake, right? Wrong!

These little snot-nosed kids need some convincing! What are you, idiots? They don't even charge a cover! They're giving themselves away - for free! I've gotta clue these guys in, big time.

Being the nice guy that I am, I decide to take these rugrats under my wing without charging them anything. I know what you're thinking - what a prince, right? Do you know I did not get one "thank you"? I mean, look at this face. Does this look like the face of a guy who would do you wrong?

Don't answer that, that's one of them whatchamallit - hypodermic questions, there.

That Gloria chick...jeez! She's a hard sell. I don't know where I'm gonna get a bunch of clothes for her. Who doesn't want money and furs?

I think that Ryan guy has it out for me.

So finally these kids come around and I set them up with a real crowd-pleaser - a benefit concert. People go nuts for those! They bring the kids, the dogs...and their wallets. What, so "Natural Causes" isn't a real disease? Big deal! Who knew that, huh? Why can't we stamp out natural causes? Do you have any idea how many people die of natural causes each year?

Anywho, I get them all set up, and we make a real killing. Ohh, look at all the pretty green paper. Now, here's where everybody gets it all wrong.

As the agent, I get 10%, right? Well, ten percent is a big number, so I gotta take my shoes off to do some figuring. Sorry for the visual there, folks. I'm getting ready to take the lockbox back to my office - yeah, I've got an office! What, you don't believe me? I am a certified talent agent, here! Now quit interrupting me!

I'm taking the box back to my office when they start freaking out. They're chasing me all the way down the street! What, you thought you could get quality service for free? This is the big time, babes! Forget you, I'm gonna make it to the big time on my own.

So an agent's not where it's at. Eh, there was too much paperwork, anyway. I don't want to watch other losers get lucky - I want to be that loser! Wait, that didn't sound right...

The way I figure it, Kids Inc. owes me. Besides, they could use some real talent in that band of theirs. What do they got that I haven't?

I buzz down to that run-down P*lace and they're nowhere to be found. Huh. Probably out ruining some other poor guy's life. Well, that gives me the chance to rehearse.

They should label their switches better. I thought I hit the amplifier one, but it was the lights instead.

I need some snappy outfit. That oughta set me back a few. Whoa, where do these kids get all their duds? Niiiice...oh, look at that, a perfect fit!

Huh. Ryan is a songwriter - yeah, right! What'd you do, the "Kitty Krispies" jingle? Lemme see that guitar. Cripes, they're coming!

So the brats didn't think I was good enough for their outfit. I was even willing to let them open for me! Where else can you get a deal like that?

Oh, I'll be back, Kids Incorporated. It ain't over until the fat lady sings.

Bet you'd say she was no good, too, wouldn't ya!

Well, I let those kids cool off while I pursued my musical dream. I'm still working on it, by the way. They'll be calling me any day now.

Anyway, I stumbled onto the most brilliant money-making idea the other day. Kids hate school, right? Why do kids hate school? Because school makes them take tests! Dozens of tests on boring things they're never gonna use in real life. History? It's already happened! What do we care? English? Don't nobody speak that except the Queen. Why do you want to sit inside all day studying things that you could care less about?

Enter me, Brendan Roberts, a kid's best friend.

I have acquired some in-depth guides to each and every test this school is giving. How in-depth are they? Let's just say you'll be at the top of your class by lunchtime. Unfortunately, this kind of stuff don't come cheap. Now where am I gonna find someone to advertise?

Whaddya know? Kids Inc. does it again. I like that Kid. I could tell right away he had some redeeming qualities. He's a shyster just like I am! Now this guy, he knows how to have his fun. And where do they have a kid like this on a day like this? STUDYING???

I think I just found my first customer.

Now if only I could get him alone. Get lost, Skipper! Us gentlemen are gonna have ourselves a conversation! Ugh. Maybe I'll wait outside 'til he ditches her.

I don't believe this. I try to do something good for a fellow, and he rats me out! So The Kid don't have no money. Barbie there must've robbed him blind. I must be nuts; I was gonna give him the answers for free! FREE! And he STILL ain't buying it!

Why do these kids have to go around poking their noses into other people's business, anyway? Can't a guy make a decent living around here?

Didn't I get them mucho dinero for that concert? Didn't I offer to include them in my national tour? Every time I found a new way to make some dough, didn't I come right to them so they could get in on the ground floor? Yes, I did!

So there you have it, folks. I, Brendan Roberts, was wronged! Used and abused by a bunch of little dancing devils. It's a shame that people like that are allowed to roam the streets. But at least I know youse guys are my pals.

Hey, where you going? HEY!

The End