Toby glances at me from where he’s sitting in the chair next to my desk, his eyes conveying all the worry and concern that I’m feeling right now. Not that I’m going to let these douches in on that.

I smile condescendingly at the two lawyers seated across from me, using the intimidating wooden desk to my advantage as I stare them down. “How can I help you gentlemen today?”

Like I don’t know exactly why they’re here. These ass wipes work for the network. They only reason they’d be here looking like they want to rip me a new one is because of the pending investigation with the FCC.

The prick on the left, whose slimy grin is as fake as the hair plugs of the guy next to him takes his time before answering me. He looks down at his designer suit and plucks at an imaginary piece of lint. Then he studies his fingernails.

What a dick move, trying to intimidate me by acting like he holds all the cards. He’s dead ass wrong. I want to jump up and tell him to get the fuck out of my office, but I know it wouldn’t go over well with the studio heads, and as much as I may not like it, they’re the ones who make the final calls at the end of the day. Well, them and the FCC, apparently.

Finally, the other lawyer, Adam Wolff Jr., speaks up. “On behalf of your employers,” he says snidely, “we’re here to tell you that they’re not happy about the possibility of a fine.”

Like I fucking am? Who do they think is paying the fucking money if we do get fined? I decided to take on that liability when Toby and I made the choice to show it all for the cameras. I want to tell them to get the fuck out of my office, but instead I bare my teeth in some semblance of a smile.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it covered.” He starts to speak up again, but I cut him off before he can. “I mean I’ll pay the fine. If it comes to that, which it won’t.”

“Mr. Kent,” the lint plucker says, apparently deciding he'll speak to me after all, “we’re more concerned about the bad publicity. The network just doesn’t need that right now. The network has requested you tone it down.”

Seriously? They think my show will bring bad publicity?

Toby guffaws at that, then seeing the lawyers’ expressions, tries to cover it up as a cough. Yeah. Really. People actually do that shit.

He gives the suits an incredulous look. “You really think that’s bad publicity? You’re crazy if you do. And you can go straight to the network heads and tell them I said it. This is exactly the kind of publicity that gets better ratings. And I know that’s all they care about. As soon as people heard about that episode, it went viral. More views on YouTube than any other shows in network history. The amount of people tuning in live the next night was twice what it was any other night for the entire run of the show.”

I nod. “Toby’s right. And I’ll remind you that my show is the top rated talk show on TV. Not just for this network. Across all networks.”

“Yes, but that won’t matter when—”

“Let me ask you this? What’s more important? Pleasing a few prudes who probably just need a good hard fucking, or giving our viewers what they tune in for night after night? The viewers are the ones who really matter. If the network knows what’s good for them, they won’t try to censor the show. Because the viewers won’t stand for being treated like children who are being told that ACL is too naughty for them.”

The lawyers exchange a glance, then Adam leans forward. “Look, I get that your viewers watch your show for a reason. But don’t you think it might have gone a little too far this time? You could put the network in jeopardy. Like my colleague said, you need to consider toning things down. At least until this blows over.”

I shake my head. At first I was almost amused, but now I’m starting to get pissed. “They’re missing the point. The whole purpose of my show is to liberate people from the sexual restraints society has put on them. You think censoring the show is going to further that purpose? Fuck no. It goes against everything I represent. How am I supposed to help people break free of the shame and discomfort society places on sex when the very network the show is on is okay with censorship?”

How does no one get this? Well, except Toby. My man has my back.

“What Jake is trying to say,” he says calmly, “is that what you’re proposing will have the opposite effect from what you want. You risk alienating the very viewers our show appeals to.”

I jump back in, unable to point out the obvious. “Besides, don’t you think you’re getting ahead of yourselves? We haven’t even been fined yet. It’s very possible we won’t be. Layla happens to be reasonable and forward thinking. She might end up seeing the value of the show and decide not to fine us after all.”

“It’s a possibility,” Adam concedes, “but her boss Lori is one of the higher-ups with the FCC. She has a reputation for being relentless. It may not even matter what Layla concludes if Lori really wants to push the issue.”

I just stare at him. Do they really think I’m going to go along with their suggestion? That I’m going to be a total hypocrite and defy everything I stand for by allowing censorship?

“I’m just telling you,” Adam continues,” that if this goes to court and we have to deal with Lori, I’m billing extra.”

I don’t even blink. Who the fuck do they think they’re talking to? I’m Jacob fucking Kent, the fucking Cunning Linguist for fuck’s sake. Whatever they can throw at me, all I have to say is bring it.

Because I know what I stand for, and there’s no way in hell I’m backing down.