I absently rolled my empty mug between my palms as I considered her question.
"There is one project that I've been thinking about lately."
"Mm?" She leaned forward; eyes big. "Tell me."
I placed the mug on the table, leaning across, lowering my voice. "Have you heard of Joy Harris?"
She blinked, her mouth falling open. "The Unicorn?"
I grinned, slapping a hand on the table and pointing at her. "Exactly!"
Molly leaned in further, an excited flush pinking her cheeks. "I love Urma. Every comic is hilarious!"
The Unicorn was a webcomic by Australian writer and illustrator, Joy Harris. Joy's comic focused on Urma. Urma was a scruffy looking Unicorn living amongst her perfect peers. Sarcastic, ironic and often controversial, part of The Unicorn's success was arguably thanks to its dark humor.
"I have an idea. I want to take the comics and turn them into a series."
"A series?"
"Yeah. We could do a movie, but what I want is an adult cartoon series, think BoJack Horseman. And I want Joy Harris to co-write."
Molly reached across, squeezing my hands. "Do it! You have to do this!"
I grinned. "I've already put feelers out." My smile dropped. "Unfortunately, Joy is illusive."
"She won't return your calls?"
I shook my head. "She's a ghost. I've had to jump through fifteen thousand hoops just to get a PO Box address."
"What are you doing in the meantime?"
I shrugged, "trying to come up with our next project."
She dropped my hands. I resisted the urge to snatch her back.
"And you're struggling?"
"My muse wants to write a rom-com."
She chuckled. "I can't see Sam going for that."
My lips twisted up. "Not unless I throw in some deep and meaningful character progression where two worlds collide with an overarching feminist narrative of strength and fundamental change from the patriarchy."
"So, essentially Legally Blonde?"
I burst out laughing. "Sure. Let's do the Legally Latino version."
"Just saying," she smirked. "Would watch."
So would I. My brain started churning.
She glanced at her watch. "I'm sorry to cut this short, but I have to go." She gave me a rueful smile. "I have a soiree."
I stood, waiting for her to slip past me. I threw some cash on the table, adding a seventy-five percent tip. Seriously, the brownie was that good.
"Which charity?"
She sighed. "No charity tonight. This is pure schmoozing enforced family time."
