“Papa,” said Juan, Planet Sooth’s Intern and Knower of All Thing Related to the Abandoned Parking Booth in the Midtown Lot, “have you ever thrown a dart at a live ostrich?” Papa Sooth, the greatest prognosticator in the history of the NFL and a part-time go-go dancer at Monday’s, looked up from his papers. “Why in the world would you ever ask that, you doorknob?” Juan shrugged. “Just wondered.” Papa kept staring at him. “Is this going somewhere?” “No.” “Then shut up.” Papa was in no mood for distractions. He was trying to foresee the results of every NFL game between now and the Super Bowl so he could take the next three months off and follow the Jonas Brothers tour across Europe. “Why the Jonas Brothers?” asked Gomez, Captain of Planet Sooth’s Imperial Guard. “Simple,” Papa said. “If I followed Miley Cyrus around for three months, they would call me a dirty old man.” Gomez blinked. “But you are a dirty old man.” “Shut up.” Juan called his comrade over.