Today I returned to the model talent agency to review Leroy's photos. Truth be told, I was completely prepared to have them try to scam me for more money. I mean, they called to confirm that I'd be in; why so eager?
I was wrong. Tony Soprano got out the disk, we looked at it on a big screen, and the shots were gorgeous. The photographer (his name is Ken, not Cam, as it turns out; Tony mumbles a bit) shoots in high resolution, and you could see every whisker on Leroy.
"So you sign this, which states that you have paid for your shots and you give us permission to market Leroy," Tony said, pushing a paper at me. I steeled myself. "Ah-HA!" I thought, "Here it comes."
Nope. It was just what Tony'd described. I signed it.
"And here is a release for you stating that you have full rights to these photos, in case you want reprints made and the photo place wants to see something that says you can do it."
This was too easy.
"So how do you make your money?" I asked.
"We make the photos viewable, so casting agents can review them, and we can also email them if we get a call for rabbits. Then if they use Leroy, we get a 10% commission."
That seemed really -- reasonable. And he was being a really nice, low-key guy.
"It's too bad -- I had a job several weeks ago looking for a rabbit, and we had none. Leroy's our only one now."
I imagined phone calls saying, "The stretch hybrid limo will pick Leroy up at 6am."
I imagined being on Oprah! explaining how I went from unemployment to untold riches from being the guardian of the Bunny Luv environmentally-friendly diaper bunny.
Perhaps I should put in a call to Lloyd's of London.