"So, it's apparent that you've written a science fiction novel you think is worthy of being published," Evil Editor said to his uninvited, unwelcome visitor. "You'll forgive me if I don't take your word, Mr. . . . "
"Charlie Bilgewater. Also known as Bilgy. Middle initial Q. Admittedly I'm no expert on literature, sir, but I've got experience in many diverse fields, including contract law, alternative medicine, yellow journalism, managing bakeries . . . "
"Mmm, there's nothing more enticing than fresh baked goods. Especially cinnamon buns and cheese danish."
"Ah, yours truly's specialties."
"That's promising, Chuck," EE ejaculated. "One man seeking publication meets another who seeks daily pastry deliveries."
"You're suggesting we might work out an agreement? Excellent. How about this schedule: Monday, bear claws; Tuesday, chocolate eclairs; Wednesday, honey dipped doughnuts; Thursday, oatmeal raisin cookies; Friday, lavender-scented creme brulee."
"Tough negotiator, eh? Okay, Saturday, lemon meringue pie; Sunday, assorted fruit tarts."
"Sounds delicious," the gargantuan glutton gurgled, glowing. Deal.
"This'll probably annoy aspiring authors who've submitted better books, yet suffer rejection simply because they lack patisseries," Charles stated.
"Screw 'em. All editors have their own specific submission guidelines; it goes without saying, writers should research each editor's weaknesses."
"Regarding my manuscript, where do--"
"Mrs. V. handles submissions. Fairness dictates she can't expedite matters for any one submitter. Sayonara."