in general. I try to stay away from jail bars too. Those are not good for my health either. Used to find my way there after a night at the bar/pub/denofiniquity
I already have. Just not about this Teatime. It should be a WorldWarZ style one, where I go around the world interviewing colorful characters.
Rusted_Knight_of_Serenity. A Real stand up KaW player, known far and wide for his kind heart, and brilliance. I had finally scored an A lister, and in my nervous state, i chugged four cans of red bull in five minutes, making me look like the flash. Not because I was running really fast, but because I literally flashed four female interns. Don't judge. He arrived in time for tea, and I poured him a cup. I asked him to take the Red Chair. He took the blue one. Little did he know that each and every person before him had sat there, and it smelled of the vilest substances to come from the human body. Score one for Mordeca- ahem... Zeth. "So, Rusted, can I call you Rusted?" I ask, pulling out my notepad and easing my nerves with a gulp og redbull. "Please, call me Rusty." he replies, leaning back in is chair. "Okay, rusty. How long have you played for?" I ask. "A little over two years." he answers. He reaches for the crumpets on the foodcart. "And in that time, have you met any players you admire?" I say, swelling out my chest. Obviously, everybody admires me. I already know who what he is about to say. "Twicc." he says. My pride deflates like a balloon that has been touched by WillyTheDeuce's wit. "We enjoy getting white girl wasted and slapping Yafi around. Joe_ and Towel for showing me the ropes, and most of all, Cherry. We have OSW a lot and enjoy stripping and pinning our targets." "Do you do that in dark alleys?" I ask. "What?" he says, taken aback by my question. "Stripping and pinning people. Do you get them drunk and take advantage of them?" "No!" he replies. "Nothing like that." I narrow my eyes. "Mmhmm." I change the subject, deciding to make some idle small talk. "Redbull, or Monster?" "Redbull, if it's mixed with Jager." I nod. I decide on another wild question. "Which is better, the color Black, or white?" He smiles. I smile. My pen moves toward the pad, waiting for an answer of which I can silently judge. He replies, "I prefer the color rust over both, although my fashion does get expensive when I have to keep getting tetanus shots." I shiver. Nasty. My attention suddenly drifts to his two dogs. Poodles, one sitting one either side of him. One seems mildly interested with my food cart, while the other seems to be smelling it's own stale farts, with all the enthusiasm of a fine wine connoisseur. "Would you like some brandy?" I ask, still focusing on the dogs. "No. Thank you." he replies. "Warm milk, perhaps?" I ask again. "No. Thank you very much, but no." Ovaltine?" I ask once more. His eyebrows shoot up. "You just quoted young frankenstein didn't you." "Maybe." i reply. "So what's with the dogs?" "Oh them. I must say, I'm glad New Age let me bring them with me. One sniffed out your gun, while the other distracted you by rummaging through your food cart." I instinctively drop my hand to where my pistol normally is. I'm surprised to find it not there, and I look up to see stale farts poodle emptying my magazines, and regarding me with a cold stare. "Well... hell." I mutter. Rusty chuckles. I continue. "Do you cook much?" "No, not really." he answers. "Eat much?" I ask. "Oh yeah, but I'm always out on the go. Usually at resturaunts." he says. My eyes open wide and I stand up. "Follow me." I almost yell, and I whisk him away to the kitchen. "Where are we going?" he asks me. "We are going to enlighten you." I answer. I place an apron on him, and a chef's hat on my head. In several minutes, I am boiling a pot of spaghetti noodles, and making the sauce. "Why are we doing this?" he asks. "Because we must. You must taste this." He nods quickly. I stir the meat, and soon add the sauce. He just stands idly by. "Come here." I say, and he draws forward. "Taste this." I hand him a spoonful of spaghetti sauce. He nods, and I turn back to the noodles. Defying common sense, I stick my hand into the boiling water, and grab a noodle. "The hell are you doing?" he asks. "Checking to see if they are done." I reply. I hurl the noodle across the room. It hit's the wall with a muted 'splat' then sticks. "If they are done, they stick. You try." I hand him one. He throws it. It sticks. "Hey, that's kind of fun." he admits. We throw several more, and it is just plain bad luck that Steven gets in the way at that moments. The noodle hit's him square in the eye, causing him to drop a binder full of embarrassing photos of me. I pale, Rusty blushes, and Steven runs, the noodle hanging from his eye socket still. I turn to rusty. "Dinner is ready." We take our plates, and sit at the table. He quickly eats his, as do I. "That was very good, thank you." he says. "No problem." I answer. I'm feeling slightly woozy, probably coming down from my caffeine high. "There is something I must tell you." He says, standing. "I loved your food cart so much, I spiked your food, and Now I'm taking it." "You bass... you basst... you fish you..." I yell angrily. I try to stand, but but my legs turn to KY Jelly, and I fall to the ground. I hear him wheeling the cart out the door, and I see a fish version of the Old Spice guy before I black out. When I awaken, I finish my food, then sit on my recliner, smoking Cubans and drinking red bull. I will find him eventually. One day. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But one day.
His food cart has an awesome variety on it. It ensures I won't have to cook for at least a few months.
This reminds me of a book by Richard Ayoade (actor/comedian, played Moss in the IT Crowd) called 'Ayoade on Ayoade'. Basically he interviews himself - it's got similar humour to this. Good job zeph! Also, just curious, do u basically just do it normal interview style in PM and then edit it and elaborate it as u see fit? Or is the original interview already kinda weird?