Jay Leno Has Twelve Things to Do Today

1. Wake before dawn to Johnny’s Theme blasting from the stereo at maximum volume. Trudge through piles of empty Doritos bags to the bathroom. Dry heave for 10 minutes. Bang chin on the rim of the toilet.
   
2. Have trouble getting dressed. Maybe a blazer with jeans. Maybe cargo pants and loafers. Whatever. Wonder if anyone would care if he wore a Krusty the Clown costume to work. Stare at the life-size picture of Carson hanging in the back of the closet. Start mumbling and complaining to the “old man.” Lose all control and begin shouting at the picture, “Don’t you tell me what I can’t do! Jay Leno does what he wants, goddamn it!”
   
3. Breakfast on stale coffee and stationery from The Tonight Show With Jay Leno. Just a few sheets—been looking sort of bloated lately. Resolve again to quit the Cool Ranch binges.
   
4. Hop on custom-built tram to The Jay Leno Garage. Take in the sunrise over the servants’ quarters. Arrive at garage and slash the tires on several priceless models just for the hell of it. Hop in a vintage Corvette and blow the joint, busting through the garage door on his way out. Call head servant and demand tires and garage door be repaired by the time “The Leno” gets home. Hit the gas and throw the iPhone out the window.
   
5. Arrive at the studio. Say hello to the receptionist—ask her to check on why the red-headed parking attendant hasn’t been fired yet. When she turns away, take back the fruit basket he bought her yesterday for her birthday. Chomp down on a fancy pear.
   
6. Meet with the writers to see how many unintentionally funny newspaper headlines they’ve gathered since yesterday. Throw enormous tantrum when only three are presented for review. Lash them for their incompetence and remind them that he is Jay Leno. Grab head writer by the face and demand more funny headlines.
   
7. Retire to office and stare at the wall for six hours. Ignore the phone. Throw objects at the door whenever he hears a knock, all the while trying to resist the urge. Struggle against it. Bite hand until it bleeds, but finally succumb to the pressure to break out a family size bag of Cool Ranch Doritos. Obliterate them like a world champion of nacho chips, like a legend of Dorito Country, like the King of Late Night Snacking. Lie down on the floor in a daze until it’s time to meet the guests.
   
8. Recognize the usual clatter outside his office as show time approaches. Put on a suit and make the rounds. Walk by the writers’ offices, staring and pointing at them menacingly. Stiff-arm aides who try to prep him on the day’s broadcast, then barge into the dressing room of Glenn Beck, the day’s top guest. Notice an odd odor lingering in the air. Note also that Beck appears to have eaten everything in the room—that he is standing in the corner, drenched in sweat, looking like a kindergartner who just soiled his pants. Leave dressing room without saying a word.
   
9. Burst through the curtain at show time and bang through the show. Nail the monologue with ingenious jokes about the differences between men and women. Mix it up with some crazy headlines from Canadian newspapers, dealing out a brilliant quip about maple syrup and Mounties. Flatter the guests, bat around a few puns, toss in a few shakes of the old bobblehead, and take it on home.
   
10. Walk straight out of the building after the taping. Climb into an old Mustang he keeps around for when he’s feeling triumphant. Head down to In-n-Out Burger to get a shake and a couple Double Doubles. Spot Jimmy Kimmel climbing into his car, whip milkshake at Kimmel’s car, and peel out of the parking lot.
    
11. Drive around aimlessly for a few hours, farting and dreaming up Bill Clinton jokes that will kill in tomorrow’s monologue. Meander along the roads and find a long way home. Park the Mustang on the lawn. Think briefly of Andy Richter and laugh before urinating in the shrubs.
    
12. Wander into the house and head straight to bed, just barely making it past the kitchen without plucking a fresh bag. No point in staying awake. Clap on the lights, fire up the television, and scan the DVR for an old episode of Conan. Shout insults and jeers at the screen for five solid minutes before finally settling down into the covers. Silently watch the rest of the episode with a perplexed expression, as if trying to find meaning in a foreign language. Drift off to the sounds a delighted audience, whispering something about a smart alecky punk.