I think I startled Don when I knocked on his large rainbow-tinted bubble. He didn't hear knocking of course, only a glub blub blubbing where my fist threatened to punch through.

I stood straight and proud in my stiletto heels and fuchsia mini-skirt worn with my orange tube top, and demanded he let me in. Don must not have been used to blond bombshell reporters, because he hesitated before grabbing the iridescent surface and pulling it toward him so I could slip through. I saw him glance at my head and my gnome hat. Wide brimmed and rising to a point, it looked like a green traffic cone. I could tell right away by the gleam in his eye he wanted to steal my pointy hat.

"Park 'er there," he said, pointing to a wall where a rainbow danced. "Please, allow me hold your hat."

"I'll sit on it," I said. I wasn't about to fall for that one. "I'm Parker. I'm here to interview you."

I reversed my gnome bonnet and let the point dig into Don's bubble. I smiled the toothy fake grin of an auto salesperson and forced a lilting English accent. "Is this spot okay?"

I looked around inside bubble at Other Don, Donnette, Silly Don, Crazy Don, Dumb Don, Frightened Don, Brave Don, Lazy Don, Super Don and seven other Dons. "Are there more Dons?"

"This isn't all of them. If I let them all out it would burst my bubble. My purposely oversized author's bubble can hold many travelers."

He scratched his chin and looked at the gnome hat I sat on. I could almost hear the gears shifting in his head. He wanted my hat!

"Only three Don's are of importance, myself, of course. Other Don, who challenges every thought going through my head. And my female side, Donnette. Well, maybe four. Silly Don butts in a lot."

"My first question is..." I startled as the universe wobbled like Jell-O™. "Hey, we're rising!"

"That was the idea, Lady Parker. We are on the search for readers."

"Okay," I said. But it wasn't okay. I started to slide toward the bottom of the bubble and couldn't stop. Darn that bubble was slippery! I wiped my hand on my glitter fishnet stockings and resolved to get back to my high level of professionalism.

"How do you determine if something is funny?" I asked him, not a flicker of concern or worry on my face.

Silly Don jumped up and did a flip in the air. His clown feet slid across the ceiling. "I do 'funny' by instinct."

"Sit down, Silly Don." Don frowned at him until Silly Don's eyes filled with tears. "I'll answer the questions."

Silly Don sagged to the floor, a frown on his absurdly painted face.

"I've studied humor," Don said with pride. "But like Silly says, it's mostly by instinct. I don't know how much is subconscious. If it makes me smile or laugh and it's something the reader would understand, then it works."