About a week later I walked into the Comedy Cellar to do a set. I had some new material and wanted to try it out (they had recently come out with a new telephone that had its own built-in answering machine), and the first thing I saw was the two of them, Dave and Sarah, canoodling at a corner table. They may as well have been up in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G. Well, I saw red and I went over to Colin Quinn. Colin was and is the smartest comedian alive and a great guy to boot. (This was long before he joined the cast of SNL and destroyed my life.)
“Colin,” I said, “you’re from New York. Where does a guy go to hire a hit man?”
Colin laughed. “What do you want with a hit man?”
“Can you keep a secret, Colin? I plan to have Dave Attell murdered and then, once he’s out of the way, convince Sarah to lay down with me.”
I should have paused to give Colin a chance to answer my question regarding his ability to keep a secret before I spilled my whole plan. As it turned out, Colin Quinn was a huge blabbermouth, who would up prating like a magpie about the entire murder plot as soon as he got the chance. But I didn’t know that then.
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