It was ten o’clock and time for the morning smoke break, so I stumbled down the third floor hallway, still bleary eyed because the coffeemaker in the office was broken. The elevator dinged, and I shuffled in, so busy fumbling in my overcoat for my marlboros that it didn’t register that I was not alone.

“You look like death on a cracker,” a voice said from behind me and somewhere overhead a laugh track began to blare.

I was so startled that I jumped forward and slammed into the “Stop” knob on the elevator, which effectively brought the car to a halt somewhere between floor two and three.

I whipped around, and there, in the corner of the elevator, stood Jerry Seinfeld. He was wearing tweed of all things and fingering a gucci briefcase.

“You aren’t exactly Fabio yourself,” I murmured as if insulted by celebrities all the time.

“Aren’t you a bundle of Sunshine, Mr……?” Jerry quipped and the laugh track roared again.

“Hannibal Lecter at your service.”

“Very nice, Mr. frown factory.” The laugh track screamed.

“Oh for crying out loud. This is a neurotic’s jackpot. Not only do I get one of the most annoying comedians in the world, I get his stupid laugh track too. What are you doing here, Jerry?”

“That should be obvious isn’t it? I’m standing here rubbing my gucci briefcase and modeling tweed! What does it look like I’m doing?”

“I meant what are you doing here? In the elevator of my insurance company office building?”

“Ohhhh. Well ever since they canceled the show, I haven’t been around much, so I’ve taken to making random appearances in YA stories. It’ not much pay, but it’s great on the face time. And what a funny predicament I find myself in this time! Stuck here on an elevator with an insurance rep. This reminds me of the time that Kramer and I-”

“Yeah that’s great Jerry.” I turned back to the elevator knobs and furiously pulled the stop knob back out. It came off in my hand. Of course.

“The plot thickens!” Jerry exclaimed and the laugh track burbled. “What are you going to do now, Mr. Gloomy Gus?”

I shot him a withering look and pulled my cell phone out of my pants.

“Good idea! Wanna order a pizza?” The laugh tracked boomed again.

“Hey Jerry. How about stiflin’ it while I make a call and try to get us out of this mess?”

“God you sound just like my ma! Jerry, she always said, you talk too much! Why don’t you just give it a rest once in a while and-”

“THANK YOU JERRY,” I growled. I dialed, and put the phone to my ear. It was answered on the second ring.

“Whattaya want ova there?”

“Is this 911?” I asked.

“No this ain’t 911, for that you’s gotta dial 9 1 1. You got Joisey on the phone.”

“Oh for crying out loud. Joisey? You mean Jersey?”

“Dat’s what I said! Joisey!”

I hung up. Redialed.

“Whattaya want ova there?”

“Why are you answering 911 calls, ahh screw it.” I hung up

“What’s the matter grumpy britches?” Jerry asked to the accompaniement of the laugh track.

“Every time I use my cell phone, I get some dude in Hoboken-what the hell am telling you anything for anyway? You’re the emergency I’m trying to get away from. Being stuck on an elevator is supposed to be peaceful and isolated!”

“That reminds me,” Jerry said through a grin. “Have you ever had airline food? Who is the culinary expert that came up with that stuff, eh? I mean seriously-”

“Hmmmmm. Anyone ever tell you that you’re as funny as a broken toe, Jerry?”

“Ma again. She was always on me about what a wisecracker I was and how I was not so funny. ‘Jerry’ she’d say-”

“Do you know the meaning of the word rhetorical Jerry? Never mind…time to write myself out of this mess…”

And then the hyenas ran away into the night leaving the town’s people victorious and safe. The end.

UPDATE: Ok, I can’t, you can close without me.

Him/her. “Naah. She’s already done all of them herself.”