Sunday, August 26, 2007

Interview: Strawberry Shortcake

PV: Whoah, is that you under there, Strawberry?

SS: (Puts down trough of chili fries). Yeah. Sorry I was late. I hade, uh, errands.

PV: You mean like eating? It sure looks like you've put on some weight.

SS: Hey, shut up. I've always been a big-boned girl with curves.

PV: It's only fat people who talk about big bones and curves. Those are just cop-outs. Besides, I seem to remember you being rather thin.

SS: By always I meant the past five years, when I stopped playing into society's vision of what a woman should look like. After years of playing the game, I just decided that I don't need to please everyone all the time. Now everything I do is geared to bring joy into the life of the one person who matters most.

PV: The CEO of Little Debbie?

SS: No, dummy. Me. Scoff all you want, I'm going to eat until my big, joyful heart is content.

PV: Don't get me wrong, Strawberry Shortcake. I'm not trying to bash you. I see how it would be very tough to avoid succumbing to obesity when you come from such a food-centric background. Take a look at the sort of people you hang out with. Your friends don't exactly make it easy for a girl to keep a trim figure.

SS: (Sniff). What are you talking about? I have nobody.

PV: Are you kidding me? You have so many friends! I remember back from when, uh, my sisters watched your show. Yeah, it totally was my sisters who watched and not me. There was Blueberry Muffin and her pet Cheesecake the Mouse, Lemon Meringue, Huckleberry Pie and Butter Cookie. You all banded together to contend with the evil The Peculiar Purple Pieman of Porcupine Peak and his cleverly named sidekicks Sour Grapes and Raisin Cane.

SS: I ate them all. I'm such a monster.

PV: That is pretty gross. I think that makes you a cannibal. Did they taste good at least?

SS: Divine. It was like the buffet at the Mirage. No, the Aladdin. Only I didn't have to pay.

PV: And let me guess, because of the ensuing guilt and loneliness that came from devouring all the other characters, you plunged into a spiral of compulsive eating! You eat because you're unhappy...

SS: (Sighs). And I'm unhappy because I eat. Thanks for that.

PV: Not at all. I'm just looking out for your health.

SS: Only shallow louts like you say you're looking out for the "health" of others when you chastise them for their weight. It's just a cop-out.

PV: That hurt, Strawberry, but I admit I deserved it. Let's you and I make a deal, OK? You try to watch your weight, and I'll make an effort to stop judging people based solely on their appearance.

SS: Deal. (Rips open a carton of bonbons and stuffs them into her face five at a time).

PV: Dude! You're totally breaking our deal!

SS: And you're breaking your end of it by being disgusted of how fat and piggish I am.

PV: You always were a wise one, Strawberry Shortcake.

Sunday, August 19, 2007

Interview: Vicki the Robot

PV: "Small Wonder" was one of my favorite shows growing up. That and the one whose name I can't remember, about the little girl who stopped time by putting her fingers together.

VTR: Indeed, Phil. Your compliment activated the synthetic neurotrons programmed to scan for adulation. I must add that my memory receptors also do not record the name of the show about the girl who stopped time.

PV: That surprises me that you've lost your memory, Vicki, being a robot and all.

VTR: I blame it on Windows Vista. It screws with everything.

PV: Ain't that the truth. Oh, I just remembered the name of the show! "Out of This World."

VTR: Thank you. Allow me to write the information to my hard disk. OK. Proceed with the questioning.

PV: Why are you talking so... robotic? In "Small Wonder," you seemed to become less androidlike and more human as you went. Have you regressed?

VTR: Again, the culprit is Windows Vista.

PV: I see. Windows Vista is indeed crappy. But come on, Vicki, take some personal responsibility!

VTR: Silence, human, or I will grab you by the throat and lift you off the ground until you repent.

PV: You mean like you did to that schoolyard drug dealer on that one episode? I'd be honored. That was pretty hot.

VTR: Your adjective "hot" does not compute.

PV: I meant it was attractive. I have to say, other than Punky Brewster's friend Margaux, you were the TV girl I wanted to nail the most of all back when I was 8.

VTR: Thank you.

PV: You're welcome. My research has indicated I wasn't alone in my crush. There was a mid-1980s phenomenon in which you appeared in viewers' dreams. There was even a book written about your character!

VTR: This information activates my creepotron indicators, given that 8-year-olds do not write books, so logically the author must have been well into maturation and still fixated on a young girl playing a humanoid robot.

PV: Yeah, it is pretty disgusting. Say, Vicki, since you're a robot, are you like, impossible to beat at chess and tic-tac-toe?

VTR: Defeat is not in my memory bank.

PV: Well, neither was "Out of This World."

VTR: Yes it was. I was only simulating an ignorance level similar to your own in order to make you feel more comfortable. The directive came from a program installed in me meant to build a rapport during interviews.

PV: Vicki the Robot, you so crazy.

Sunday, August 12, 2007

Interview: Sonny the Cuckoo Bird

PV: Sonny, what is it exactly that makes you cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs?

S: I'm glad you asked me, Phil, and let me say that is a great question that I don't get very often. The draw for me has always been the unique blend of chocolate flavoring coating the spheres of delightful crunch that make up the infrastructure of the cereal I've been so cuckoo to represent for nearly half a century.

PV: I thought you were gonna say the chocolate milk that's left over once you're done eating the puffs.

S: Ah, but the chocolate aftermilk, while tasty enough to make me go cuckoo, is only an added bonus. Far from the prime mover, I'm sure you'd agree.

PV: Whatever. So what makes Cocoa Puffs any better than, say, Coco-Roos?

S: I resent the comparison. Cocoa Puffs are worth going cuckoo for. Would you go cuckoo just to save a few cents on a Malt-o-meal knockoff of an inferior product? I think not.

PV: But it's pretty much the same cereal, right?

S: You're cuckoo for even suggesting such an oversimplified misrepresentation of the greatest cereal ever known to man! Take it back or I will end this interview immediately.

PV: OK, I'm sorry.

S: Apology accepted.

PV: I'm not really sorry. I just said that so you wouldn't walk out on the interview.

S: Since I see you're too cuckoo to grasp this concept on your own, let me spell it out to you. Cocoa Puffs are the original. The Babe Ruth of chocolate crunchball cereals, if you will. Coco Roos, on the other hand, are little more than cocky, Johnny-come-lately imitators. More like Barry Bonds.

PV: But Barry Bonds is better than Babe Ruth. He's hit tons more home runs.

S: Yes, but Barry Bonds uses steroids! And don't try to tell me that he's clean just because he's never tested positive. Such tests can be easily manipulated.

PV: Yeah, but everybody else in baseball uses steroids also, so it's a level playing field. And besides, Babe Ruth didn't have to face nearly as difficult competition as Bonds because black people weren't allowed to play back in the day.

S: Damn, I've never thought of it that way. I'm feeling a little bit cuckoo. Maybe I should rethink other truths I've long held to be self evident.

PV: Maybe that all chocolate cereals are created equal?

S: Perhaps, Phil. Perhaps.

Sunday, August 05, 2007

Interview: Sonic the Hedgehog

PV: Hey there, Sonic.

S: What's the haps, yo? You down?

PV: Sonic, you don't have to try to be hip or edgy. Just talk normally please.

S: Sorry, force of habit. When you're the face of an organization you've got a lot of pressure on you to relate to the kids of today.

PV: True, but Sega's last console was the Dreamcast in 2000, so the pressure must be sort of lessened, yes?

S: Well, um, yeah. But I'm still the face of Sega, and Sega still makes games. Lots of 'em. Lots of Sonic games.

PV: Lots of horrid Sonic games.

S: You're maybe confusing me with my evil doppeldanger, Shadow. There are plenty of bad Shadow games, but no bad Sonic games.

PV: Let's see here: Sonic and the Secret Rings, Sonic Rush, Sonic Spinball, Sonic Chaos...

S: OK, OK, I get the point. Even superstars like me slip up every now and then. I've had a lot of great games, too.

PV: Like what?

S: OK, OK, all my games suck. I'll admit it. But they sell well.

PV: True enough.

S: And I move really, really fast.

PV: That's the thing. You really don't move so fast.

S: I'm the fastest video game character ever created.

PV: Granted, you are capable of moving at high speeds, but it's rare that your games let you reach your full potential. Most of the time you're just hopping around like an idiot.

S: That's only because that's how you choose to control me.

PV: Well if I make you run fast, you'll die.

S: How is that my problem? I said I was fast, not sturdy.

PV: True, true, to borrow a phrase from my idol, Merry Miller. So Sonic, what is it exactly that makes you so fast?

S: That's easy - blast processing.

PV: Oh, come on, Sonic. The phrase "Blast processing" is just a meaningless gimmick dreamed up by the Sega marketing department in the mid 1990s to tout the Genesis. What's the real reason?

S: I don't think I should say.

PV: Is it, by chance, anabolic steroids?

S (breaking down into tears): It wasn't me who decided to dope up! I was always clean, I swear it to you. It was my coach and my training partner Ben.

PV: Hold up - you mean to tell me that you trained with 1988 Canadian 100 meter sprint gold medalist Ben Johnson?

S: I could beat him 9 times out of 10, too. Too bad the world of 1988 was too racist to allow computer animated hedgehogs into international competition.

PV: Too bad, man. I bet you woulda smoked Johnson for the gold.

S: You know I would have.

PV: But you would have had your medal taken away once the blood test came in.

S: True, true.