PV: It's an honor, Heathcliff.
H: The pleasure's all mine.
PV: Thank you for taking the time to do this, but can you do me a favor?
H: Sure, anything.
PV: Be a doll and stay off the couch. Animals aren't allowed there. Allergies.
H: Sure thing, boss. Would you do me a favor and go sodomize yourself?
PV: I don't know how to respond. For one, I'm offended by the notion, and on the other hand I'm not sure that's physically possible.
H: It's a figure of speech, Phil. I was offended that you treated me with the indignity of a common housecat.
PV: You took it the wrong way. I'm just really, really allergic. Like, when cat hair is everywhere, my nose stuffs up and I sneeze constantly and I can't even sleep. It was really just a self-preservation thing. Seriously, I'd never want to condescend to someone as famous and powerful as you, Garfield.
H: What the hell did you just call me?
PV: Garf.... Oh, crap. I mixed up my cartoon cats. I'm always confusing you people.
H: You people?
PV: Uh, you felines. Sorry.
H: That's messed up, dude. I don't think I can forgive you that.
PV: C'mon, man. You can't blame me for an innocent slip of the tongue. After all, Garfield is a little more famous.
H: No way, dude. My comic is totally more popular.
PV: That assertion is dubious at best, but whatever you want to believe. At least Garfield has movies, though.
H: If you can call that dreck "movies." I'd rather toil in anonymity than let Hollywood adapt my life story as a Jennifer Love Hewitt romantic comedy.
PV: Hey, don't knock J-Love. She's the bomb in "Ghost Whisperer." Seen it?
H: Nah, but I hear good things. I'm a cat who prefers TV to movies any day of the week. For instance, my landmark Nickelodeon sitcom.
PV: Oh yeah, I remember that. I used to watch it when the Garfield cartoon was on reruns.
H: OK, stop with all the Garfield references or I will rip your throat out. You wanna see why I have the reputation as being the bad boy of cat-toons? Garfield ain't nothing but a crabby fat boy, always complaining and sleeping. I be from the streets. I live in junkyards and kick ass.
PV: Get real, Gar... I mean Heathcliff. I've read your unauthorized biography. You had a stunt double do all the dangerous stuff.
H: I'm gonna kill Dotson Rader.
PV: Don't talk bad about Parade Magazine's Dotson Rader. He's the man.
H: You're right. Dotson is hardcore.
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Interview: Link
PV: Thanks for meeting me. Man, I can't believe I'm actually sitting here with Link, the pointy-eared hero, guardian of the Triforce and romancer of Princess Zelda. You're a great American.
L: You're a great American.
PV: Whoah. Dude.
L: Whassup, bra?
PV: I didn't know you could talk. In all your games you're solemn and silent. The most you've ever said is "..."
L: No, I'm not quiet in all my games. Just the good ones; you know, the ones made by Nintendo. I talked up a storm in my adventures on the 3DO system. And don't you remember the animated miniseries in which I starred?
PV: Oh yeah! It played during "The Super Mario Bros. Super Show." Your catch phrase was...
L: Excuuuuuse me!
PV: That was so awesome. I have the series on DVD.
L: Would you like me to autograph it for you?
PV: No thanks. It'd be a waste because it's stacked on a shelf and no one would be able to tell it's autographed.
L: Screw you, man. Here I am, a big celebrity trying to do something nice for a plebian fan, and you blow me off like that? You're lucky I don't pull out my ocarina and play a magical song that will cast a curse upon you.
PV: Please. You don't know any Ocarina songs capable of that. The worse you could do is go back in time or make it rain for a few seconds.
L: Oh yeah? Oh YEAH? Well I've got a sword. I could slash you to bits.
PV: No, Link, you do not have a sword. You always lose them for some reason after you finish saving the princess, and are stuck swordless at the beginning of your next quest, needing to either find a new one from an old guy in a cave or complete a number of irritating fetch quests in order to barter for a blade from the town blacksmith.
L: You're forgetting that sometimes I find one in a forgotten treasure chest in my home.
PV: Be that as it may, the point is you've got no weapons and thus pose no threat to me. You just can't keep a sword. Maybe that's why Zelda keeps getting "captured" by Gannon. You lack a long, hard thing that could give her pleasure.
L: You are!
PV: What?
L: I don't know. At least I'm a famous video game star! You're nothing but a loser.
PV: At least I've had sex.
L: Your mother!
PV: What? Link, you're such a spaz. Whatever dude. Now I can see why Nintendo doesn't let you talk. You're incapable of saying anything worthwhile.
L: You're a great American.
PV: Whoah. Dude.
L: Whassup, bra?
PV: I didn't know you could talk. In all your games you're solemn and silent. The most you've ever said is "..."
L: No, I'm not quiet in all my games. Just the good ones; you know, the ones made by Nintendo. I talked up a storm in my adventures on the 3DO system. And don't you remember the animated miniseries in which I starred?
PV: Oh yeah! It played during "The Super Mario Bros. Super Show." Your catch phrase was...
L: Excuuuuuse me!
PV: That was so awesome. I have the series on DVD.
L: Would you like me to autograph it for you?
PV: No thanks. It'd be a waste because it's stacked on a shelf and no one would be able to tell it's autographed.
L: Screw you, man. Here I am, a big celebrity trying to do something nice for a plebian fan, and you blow me off like that? You're lucky I don't pull out my ocarina and play a magical song that will cast a curse upon you.
PV: Please. You don't know any Ocarina songs capable of that. The worse you could do is go back in time or make it rain for a few seconds.
L: Oh yeah? Oh YEAH? Well I've got a sword. I could slash you to bits.
PV: No, Link, you do not have a sword. You always lose them for some reason after you finish saving the princess, and are stuck swordless at the beginning of your next quest, needing to either find a new one from an old guy in a cave or complete a number of irritating fetch quests in order to barter for a blade from the town blacksmith.
L: You're forgetting that sometimes I find one in a forgotten treasure chest in my home.
PV: Be that as it may, the point is you've got no weapons and thus pose no threat to me. You just can't keep a sword. Maybe that's why Zelda keeps getting "captured" by Gannon. You lack a long, hard thing that could give her pleasure.
L: You are!
PV: What?
L: I don't know. At least I'm a famous video game star! You're nothing but a loser.
PV: At least I've had sex.
L: Your mother!
PV: What? Link, you're such a spaz. Whatever dude. Now I can see why Nintendo doesn't let you talk. You're incapable of saying anything worthwhile.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Interview: Punky Brewster
PV: Hi, Punky. You don't seem anything like I expected you to be.
PB: What do you mean?
PV: Well, when your show was big back in the mid 1980s, we were the same age, so I expected you to be in your late 20s or early 30s now. But you're so small and, how shall I put this...
PB: Animated?
PV: Yeah, animated. You look like a cartoon.
PB: That's because I am a cartoon, silly! I'm the Punky from the spinoff cartoon show.
PV: There was a cartoon of "Punky Brewster?"
PB: Of course! My friends Cherie, Alan and Margaux were there, and so was my Yoda-knockoff buddy from the rainbow dimension, Glomer!
PV: Oh, it's all coming back to me now. How could I forget such a pandering product of 80s cheeseballosity like Glomer?
PB: There ya go. Punky Power!
PV: I hate to break it to you, Punky, but the cartoon was awful. Probably the reason I had forgotten about it is I'd blocked it from my memory. Too traumatic to recall.
PB: You've got a bad attitude, mister. Sounds like you need to spend a day with me. I have a way of lifting people's spirits right off the ground every time they turn around.
PV: I guess you're right. You even managed to cheer up your foster parent, cranky ol' Henry Warnimont.
PB: You betcha!
PV: But it wouldn't last. Each episode you'd teach Henry some sort of lesson and get him all cheered up, seeing the brighter side of life and all that good stuff. But then a week would pass and he'd be all pissed off and hating life once again, and you'd just have to repeat the process.
PB: That's because Henry was chronically depressed, silly goose! He was on suicide watch during shooting. If not for me, he would have blown his pathetic brains out years ago!
PV: Now, now, Punky. That's not very nice to say.
PB: But it's the truth, and as Ahmad Rashad taught me, it's always best to tell the truth!
PV: I thought his character taught you that it's always right to avoid stealing ties as Christmas present and then framing your teachers for the theft?
PB: That too. Ahmad taught me many things.
PV: Yeah, me as well. He co-hosted "NBA Inside Stuff" and diagrammed Magic Johnson's fast break. Didn't you just love that show?
PB: Well, since I was a cartoon, I didn't watch much sports on TV, so I'll just have to take your word for it.
PV: You do that.
PB: What do you mean?
PV: Well, when your show was big back in the mid 1980s, we were the same age, so I expected you to be in your late 20s or early 30s now. But you're so small and, how shall I put this...
PB: Animated?
PV: Yeah, animated. You look like a cartoon.
PB: That's because I am a cartoon, silly! I'm the Punky from the spinoff cartoon show.
PV: There was a cartoon of "Punky Brewster?"
PB: Of course! My friends Cherie, Alan and Margaux were there, and so was my Yoda-knockoff buddy from the rainbow dimension, Glomer!
PV: Oh, it's all coming back to me now. How could I forget such a pandering product of 80s cheeseballosity like Glomer?
PB: There ya go. Punky Power!
PV: I hate to break it to you, Punky, but the cartoon was awful. Probably the reason I had forgotten about it is I'd blocked it from my memory. Too traumatic to recall.
PB: You've got a bad attitude, mister. Sounds like you need to spend a day with me. I have a way of lifting people's spirits right off the ground every time they turn around.
PV: I guess you're right. You even managed to cheer up your foster parent, cranky ol' Henry Warnimont.
PB: You betcha!
PV: But it wouldn't last. Each episode you'd teach Henry some sort of lesson and get him all cheered up, seeing the brighter side of life and all that good stuff. But then a week would pass and he'd be all pissed off and hating life once again, and you'd just have to repeat the process.
PB: That's because Henry was chronically depressed, silly goose! He was on suicide watch during shooting. If not for me, he would have blown his pathetic brains out years ago!
PV: Now, now, Punky. That's not very nice to say.
PB: But it's the truth, and as Ahmad Rashad taught me, it's always best to tell the truth!
PV: I thought his character taught you that it's always right to avoid stealing ties as Christmas present and then framing your teachers for the theft?
PB: That too. Ahmad taught me many things.
PV: Yeah, me as well. He co-hosted "NBA Inside Stuff" and diagrammed Magic Johnson's fast break. Didn't you just love that show?
PB: Well, since I was a cartoon, I didn't watch much sports on TV, so I'll just have to take your word for it.
PV: You do that.
Sunday, September 09, 2007
Interview: Rainbow Brite
PV: Talk to me, Miss Brite.
RB: I'd rather not. I'm feeling sort of gloomy. And drop the Miss Brite stuff. Call me Rainbow.
PV: Gloomy? Really? But you're known as the happiest person in the world! Always so positive and upbeat. You wear nothing but colorful clothing and always offer words of encouragement to friends even under the toughest of circumstances! You work for Hallmark, for gosh sakes!!!
RB: You know, this had to come out at some point. It's all overcompensation. The true Rainbow Brite is miserable, and uses her sunny disposition to mask the swirling torrent of despair she calls her life. The real Rainbow Brite cries herself to sleep every night and struggles every day to get out of bed and face another day of her miserable, regret-panged existence.
PV: Huh. I never woulda thought that.
RB: That Rainbow Brite wasn't a happy person?
PV: No, I always suspected as much. It's just shocking that you're one of those people who refers to themselves in the third person. What are you, Terrell Owens?
RB: Sorry, force of habit. I can easily shift back to first person if it makes you more comfortable.
PV: Thanks, I appreciate that. I'm surprising how accommodating you are, Rainbow.
RB: My entire life is accommodation. My self esteem is so low that I do everything I can to please others. I can't make my own decisions, and I despise myself for it. I'm nothing more than a sellout shill; a dopey face of forced cheer meant to inspire hordes of impressionable young girls.
PV: Oh, Rainbow. That's not true.
RB: It's not? You don't know how much it means to me to hear that from someone. Are you telling me that I'm wrong to be so despondent, and that there's some truth to the soulless work I've submitted to?
PV: Nah, all I meant was you don't have an impact on young girls. Your show was canceled in 1985, so few people have ever heard of you and even fewer remember you.
RB: Oh. Excuse me. I need to go now.
PV: Why?
RB: I'm going to go huff paint now. It's the only thing that makes me feel good.
PV: Have fun with that.
RB: I'd rather not. I'm feeling sort of gloomy. And drop the Miss Brite stuff. Call me Rainbow.
PV: Gloomy? Really? But you're known as the happiest person in the world! Always so positive and upbeat. You wear nothing but colorful clothing and always offer words of encouragement to friends even under the toughest of circumstances! You work for Hallmark, for gosh sakes!!!
RB: You know, this had to come out at some point. It's all overcompensation. The true Rainbow Brite is miserable, and uses her sunny disposition to mask the swirling torrent of despair she calls her life. The real Rainbow Brite cries herself to sleep every night and struggles every day to get out of bed and face another day of her miserable, regret-panged existence.
PV: Huh. I never woulda thought that.
RB: That Rainbow Brite wasn't a happy person?
PV: No, I always suspected as much. It's just shocking that you're one of those people who refers to themselves in the third person. What are you, Terrell Owens?
RB: Sorry, force of habit. I can easily shift back to first person if it makes you more comfortable.
PV: Thanks, I appreciate that. I'm surprising how accommodating you are, Rainbow.
RB: My entire life is accommodation. My self esteem is so low that I do everything I can to please others. I can't make my own decisions, and I despise myself for it. I'm nothing more than a sellout shill; a dopey face of forced cheer meant to inspire hordes of impressionable young girls.
PV: Oh, Rainbow. That's not true.
RB: It's not? You don't know how much it means to me to hear that from someone. Are you telling me that I'm wrong to be so despondent, and that there's some truth to the soulless work I've submitted to?
PV: Nah, all I meant was you don't have an impact on young girls. Your show was canceled in 1985, so few people have ever heard of you and even fewer remember you.
RB: Oh. Excuse me. I need to go now.
PV: Why?
RB: I'm going to go huff paint now. It's the only thing that makes me feel good.
PV: Have fun with that.
Sunday, September 02, 2007
Interview: The Leprechaun
PV: Please don't kill me. I don't have your gold - I swear.
L: Your claim is a lie, timid little guy. Kill you I shall. We'll have a ball!
PV: Dude, that poetry was awful. Your syllable count is off and you tried to rhyme "shall" with "ball."
L: Criticize you may, my little friend Jay. But rhyme nor reason will prevent the ending of your season?
PV: Ugh. That was even worse than your last one. What the hell is wrong with you, Lep? Have seven horror films sapped your ability to put a couple threatening limerick versus together?
L: It's tough, man. Someone stole me gold, and I miss it. Ye ever hear that old line "Your treasure is where your heart is?" Well, me treasure is me gold. And thus my heart.
PV: I feel for you. But don't get all depressed on me. Remember back in Leprechaun 5: In Space, when you were blown up into a giant version of yourself and apparently killed?
L: Yeah, I totally remember that. What's your point?
PV: You totally came back in the next film, Leprechaun in the Hood, without any problem whatsoever! And when you were killed in that, you were back once again for Leprechaun: Back 2 the Hood! My point is, you're one resilient mofo.
L: I have me days. But now I'm sad and lonely because they're no longer be making me direct-to-DVD sequels.
PV: Well, that's OK. You can always sell your cereal!
L: Um. That be not me. That's another leprechaun, a frilly nancy by the name of O'Doyle. There's been a row 'tween our families for eons.
PV: Oh, sorry. You people all sort of look alike to me.
L: That be a racist comment. Makes me want to vomit.
PV: Oh haaail no. You rhymed "comment" and "vomit!" You disappoint me, Leprechaun. Your silly rhymes are usually my favorite parts of your idiotic flicks. I expect more from the man who once said "Drink if you like, drink if you're able. When you drink with the Leprechaun, you'll be under the table."
L: Aye, 'twas me better days. The 1990s. All was possible. The entire world was in front of me. Now look at me.
P: 'Twas me better days too, my brotha.
L: Your claim is a lie, timid little guy. Kill you I shall. We'll have a ball!
PV: Dude, that poetry was awful. Your syllable count is off and you tried to rhyme "shall" with "ball."
L: Criticize you may, my little friend Jay. But rhyme nor reason will prevent the ending of your season?
PV: Ugh. That was even worse than your last one. What the hell is wrong with you, Lep? Have seven horror films sapped your ability to put a couple threatening limerick versus together?
L: It's tough, man. Someone stole me gold, and I miss it. Ye ever hear that old line "Your treasure is where your heart is?" Well, me treasure is me gold. And thus my heart.
PV: I feel for you. But don't get all depressed on me. Remember back in Leprechaun 5: In Space, when you were blown up into a giant version of yourself and apparently killed?
L: Yeah, I totally remember that. What's your point?
PV: You totally came back in the next film, Leprechaun in the Hood, without any problem whatsoever! And when you were killed in that, you were back once again for Leprechaun: Back 2 the Hood! My point is, you're one resilient mofo.
L: I have me days. But now I'm sad and lonely because they're no longer be making me direct-to-DVD sequels.
PV: Well, that's OK. You can always sell your cereal!
L: Um. That be not me. That's another leprechaun, a frilly nancy by the name of O'Doyle. There's been a row 'tween our families for eons.
PV: Oh, sorry. You people all sort of look alike to me.
L: That be a racist comment. Makes me want to vomit.
PV: Oh haaail no. You rhymed "comment" and "vomit!" You disappoint me, Leprechaun. Your silly rhymes are usually my favorite parts of your idiotic flicks. I expect more from the man who once said "Drink if you like, drink if you're able. When you drink with the Leprechaun, you'll be under the table."
L: Aye, 'twas me better days. The 1990s. All was possible. The entire world was in front of me. Now look at me.
P: 'Twas me better days too, my brotha.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Interview: Joe Camel
PV: I can't quite put my finger on it, Joe, but there's something compelling about you.
JC: It must be that I'm a cartoon meant to appeal to the immature and easily suggestion-prone!
PV: You know, that's it! Boy, do I wish I were smoking that special blend of Turkish and Virginia tobacco.
JC: You know what they say: To err is human. To smoke Camel cigarettes, divine.
PV: Who says that?
JC: The Camel P.R. people.
PV: And I can dig it.
JC: You know, people give me a bad rap for trying to get kids to buy my product, but what the hell? We all gotta die someday, right?
PV: Yeah, and old age is overrated anyway. Who wants to live to be 80 if you're some uncool stick in the mud who never got to light up? And you have to worry about having enough money for retirement and all. Yuk. Throat cancer totally does you a favor.
JC: And what a pathetic life it is, that of a nonsmoker. I can't imagine what it must be like to go all your years without the smooth, full taste of filtered Camel enjoyment.
PV: I heard that.
JC: The media lefties also get on us for exploiting China. What's the problem with that? There are too many people in China anyway.
PV: Yeah, their government even admits as much, with that law forcing people to have no more than one kid.
JC: Tobacco manufacturers deserve credit from the Chinese government for doing what they can to help keep the population down.
PV: And now they're passing all these laws. First they banned smoking in airplanes, but now they're not even letting people light up in restaurants and bars. They won't even let you advertise on TV or in kiddie magazines!
JC: I see it as a violation of our constitutional rights. But rest assured, our lobbyists are constantly lining the pockets of legislators insuring that harsher measures aren't passed. We wouldn't want anything crazy to happen, like outlawing cigarette vending machines or setting up harsh penalties for kids who use fake IDs to buy our product.
PV: Joe, I have to tell you, I've never smoked, I hate smoking and I think what you do is despicable. I was only pretending to be a fan in order to get you to reveal incriminating information about the way you and your entire industry operate.
JC: Uh, I, uh don't know what to say.
PV: Aw, how can I stay mad at you? You're nothing more than a cute, lovable camel! I apologize.
JC: Apology accepted. Now let's go out and smoke a pack together. It's never too late to start!
JC: It must be that I'm a cartoon meant to appeal to the immature and easily suggestion-prone!
PV: You know, that's it! Boy, do I wish I were smoking that special blend of Turkish and Virginia tobacco.
JC: You know what they say: To err is human. To smoke Camel cigarettes, divine.
PV: Who says that?
JC: The Camel P.R. people.
PV: And I can dig it.
JC: You know, people give me a bad rap for trying to get kids to buy my product, but what the hell? We all gotta die someday, right?
PV: Yeah, and old age is overrated anyway. Who wants to live to be 80 if you're some uncool stick in the mud who never got to light up? And you have to worry about having enough money for retirement and all. Yuk. Throat cancer totally does you a favor.
JC: And what a pathetic life it is, that of a nonsmoker. I can't imagine what it must be like to go all your years without the smooth, full taste of filtered Camel enjoyment.
PV: I heard that.
JC: The media lefties also get on us for exploiting China. What's the problem with that? There are too many people in China anyway.
PV: Yeah, their government even admits as much, with that law forcing people to have no more than one kid.
JC: Tobacco manufacturers deserve credit from the Chinese government for doing what they can to help keep the population down.
PV: And now they're passing all these laws. First they banned smoking in airplanes, but now they're not even letting people light up in restaurants and bars. They won't even let you advertise on TV or in kiddie magazines!
JC: I see it as a violation of our constitutional rights. But rest assured, our lobbyists are constantly lining the pockets of legislators insuring that harsher measures aren't passed. We wouldn't want anything crazy to happen, like outlawing cigarette vending machines or setting up harsh penalties for kids who use fake IDs to buy our product.
PV: Joe, I have to tell you, I've never smoked, I hate smoking and I think what you do is despicable. I was only pretending to be a fan in order to get you to reveal incriminating information about the way you and your entire industry operate.
JC: Uh, I, uh don't know what to say.
PV: Aw, how can I stay mad at you? You're nothing more than a cute, lovable camel! I apologize.
JC: Apology accepted. Now let's go out and smoke a pack together. It's never too late to start!
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Interview: Kid Icarus
PV: So what's your real name, anyway? Pit or Kid Icarus.
KI: My birth certificate says Pit, but my game was called Kid Icarus and my friends call me Flyboy. Call me Kid Icarus.
PV: Does that mean we're not friends?
KI: I don't have any friends anymore. It's funny. You start out successful and everyone flocks around you, but if your game doesn't get any sequels they all forget about you. That's just how our celebrity-obsessed culture is.
PV: Sounds kind of sad. So what have you been doing with your time?
KI: I've been keeping busy. My agent got me a co-starring gig in "Captain N: The Game Master," and I've nabbed a few cameos here and there.
PV: Right, like in old-school "Tetris" when you pop out on the ledge at the end of the level and play an instrument.
KI: Yeah, that and I'm also in "Super Smash Bros. Brawl" for the Wii. That kind of thing gives me some extra scratch. Not that I really need the money. I have the ability to fly, so I can steal a lot of shit easily whenever I need it.
PV: Say it ain't so, Kid Icarus! You've turned to a life of crime?
KI: Hey, I do what I gotta do. Don't try and get all sanctimonious on me. You've stolen things too. Remember Napster?
PV: Uh, that wasn't me. It was my roommate.
KI: Sure it was. You'd better hope that holds up in court when Metallica finally gets around to suing your ass.
PV: But I was innocent! Everyone was doing it! It was before iTunes!
KI: I'm not trying to make any moral judgments on you. I'm just getting you to see things my way. You stole music because you had easy access. My wings give me the same thing. If you had them you'd be just as much of a criminal as I am.
PV: No I wouldn't! I'd use my powers for good. I'd hop from platform to platform and shoot arrows at Medusa's heads.
KI: Trust me, Phil. I've seen you play - or at least try to play my game. You'd die 25 times on the first level and then give up for 20 years.
PV: Hey, ct me a break. I was a little kid. I downloaded your game on the Wii and I did much better.
KI: No you didn't. You died three times and then gave up again.
PV: But I got farther... Hey! How would you know about any of that anyway?
KI: Duh. I'm the guy in the game. I know everything.
PV: No, you're just a vain stalker. You fly into peoples' houses to watch them play your game, don't you?
KI: That too.
KI: My birth certificate says Pit, but my game was called Kid Icarus and my friends call me Flyboy. Call me Kid Icarus.
PV: Does that mean we're not friends?
KI: I don't have any friends anymore. It's funny. You start out successful and everyone flocks around you, but if your game doesn't get any sequels they all forget about you. That's just how our celebrity-obsessed culture is.
PV: Sounds kind of sad. So what have you been doing with your time?
KI: I've been keeping busy. My agent got me a co-starring gig in "Captain N: The Game Master," and I've nabbed a few cameos here and there.
PV: Right, like in old-school "Tetris" when you pop out on the ledge at the end of the level and play an instrument.
KI: Yeah, that and I'm also in "Super Smash Bros. Brawl" for the Wii. That kind of thing gives me some extra scratch. Not that I really need the money. I have the ability to fly, so I can steal a lot of shit easily whenever I need it.
PV: Say it ain't so, Kid Icarus! You've turned to a life of crime?
KI: Hey, I do what I gotta do. Don't try and get all sanctimonious on me. You've stolen things too. Remember Napster?
PV: Uh, that wasn't me. It was my roommate.
KI: Sure it was. You'd better hope that holds up in court when Metallica finally gets around to suing your ass.
PV: But I was innocent! Everyone was doing it! It was before iTunes!
KI: I'm not trying to make any moral judgments on you. I'm just getting you to see things my way. You stole music because you had easy access. My wings give me the same thing. If you had them you'd be just as much of a criminal as I am.
PV: No I wouldn't! I'd use my powers for good. I'd hop from platform to platform and shoot arrows at Medusa's heads.
KI: Trust me, Phil. I've seen you play - or at least try to play my game. You'd die 25 times on the first level and then give up for 20 years.
PV: Hey, ct me a break. I was a little kid. I downloaded your game on the Wii and I did much better.
KI: No you didn't. You died three times and then gave up again.
PV: But I got farther... Hey! How would you know about any of that anyway?
KI: Duh. I'm the guy in the game. I know everything.
PV: No, you're just a vain stalker. You fly into peoples' houses to watch them play your game, don't you?
KI: That too.
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Interview: Little Mac
PV: Little Mac, I've got to say you were a hero of mine growing up. You made 8-year-olds everywhere feel like they could knock out Mike Tyson with a series of leaping counter-punches.
LM: It was a great win at the time, but...
PV: Yeah, Nowadays pretty much anybody can and does kick Mike Tyson's ass. To be honest, I think it was you who first cracked his sheen of invulnerability. Once people saw take him down, it gave everyone else hope and it sort of had Mike doubting himself. You cleared the way for Buster Douglas. Pretty soon after Tyson was in jail and you were tangling with his half-hearted replacement, Mr. Dream.
LM: I did what I could. Tyson liked to talk a lot of shit, but I put him in his place. I had a good run there for a while. To be honest with you it was all my fans. I was pretty much an inanimate collection of pixels and 8-bit processor code. It was finger speed and timing that turned me into a champion.
PV: Not to mention those training runs Doc Louis used to take you on.
LM: Yeah, Doc worked me hard. He'd roll up to my apartment in the middle of the night with that bike of his, and I'd be all groggy, throwing the first sweatshirt I could find so I could go out and follow him on runs.
PV: So that explains why you wore a pink sweatshirt.
LM: Yeah, I wouldn't even turn on the lights so I just grabbed any old thing.
PV: But tell me this, Little Mac. Why was it that you had a pink hoodie in the first place?
LM: It, uh... used to be red but faded because I sweated through it and it bled out the color.
PV: I see. I have some red shirts that I run in and that didn't happen with them.
LM: Right. Yours were probably made in the last 10 years. Back in the 80s the dyes weren't as strong. Really, I would never buy pink clothing. I'm totally masculine, dude.
PV: Well, not totally.
LM: What? Don't tell me you're about to rag on me about wearing a tanktop in the ring. Doc made me wear that so I'd have extra protection. Do you remember how big those guys were?
PV: They were pretty damn big. But you have to admit, a lot of your wins came against mediocre competition, to put it kindly. I mean Glass Joe? He only had one win in 100 fights, and that was due to a disqualification. Von Kaiser must be German for "tomato can." And who can forget that ludicrous bout with Don Flamenco in which he threw one punch and then sat there with his mouth open when you unleashed a series of 50 left-right combos to floor him within 38 seconds.
LM: Hey, I fought whoever they threw in front of me. I didn't negotiate the contracts. You gotta admit I survived a few wars. Soda Popinski? Super Macho Man? They were animals.
PV: I still have nightmares about Super Macho Man's jiggling breasts of victory.
LM: And Bald Bull and his bull charge. What power and intimidation.
PV: Especially in the second bout, when he wouldn't go down unless you threw an uppercut or slugged him in the stomach during the charge.
LM: And Great Tiger, when he used that magic to float around the ring in circles.
PV: Come on, Little Mac. That wasn't so tough. All you had to do was just block a few times, then he'd stand there stunned, having some sort of eye seizure until you smacked him in the turban.
LM: So tell me about your career nowadays? What's next for Little Mac?
LM: Well, I've done pretty well for myself. I've got a comeback match lined up with Evander Holyfield - the winner of that gets to fight Tonmmy Morrison at the Tennessee state fair.
PV: Really, at your age? You oughta be careful.
LM: Hey, I'm only 39. Rocky Balboa is in his 60s and he's still throwing hurtin' bombs.
PV: "Rocky Balboa" was just a movie, Little Mac. Video games are real life.
LM: Don't count me out, man. Actually, do count me out, because I relish the role as an underdog.
PV: I think you're just unnecessarily risking your health in a desperate grab for your former glory.
LM: I'm doing OK. I'm still big in the gaming world.
PV: Oh yeah? I thought you'd retired from that scene. I saw you didn't even make the cut in the sequel, "Super Punch Out" back in '94.
LM: Um, yeah... That was because of my agent. But I am the star of Wii Sports boxing.
PV: I hate to break this to you, bro, but you're not in every copy of that game. Just in mine, because I made a Mii that crudely looks like you and named it "Little Mac."
LM: Hmm. But I still get royalties, right?
PV: Sure, I'll give you ten bucks.
LM: Thank you. Boy do I need the money.
LM: It was a great win at the time, but...
PV: Yeah, Nowadays pretty much anybody can and does kick Mike Tyson's ass. To be honest, I think it was you who first cracked his sheen of invulnerability. Once people saw take him down, it gave everyone else hope and it sort of had Mike doubting himself. You cleared the way for Buster Douglas. Pretty soon after Tyson was in jail and you were tangling with his half-hearted replacement, Mr. Dream.
LM: I did what I could. Tyson liked to talk a lot of shit, but I put him in his place. I had a good run there for a while. To be honest with you it was all my fans. I was pretty much an inanimate collection of pixels and 8-bit processor code. It was finger speed and timing that turned me into a champion.
PV: Not to mention those training runs Doc Louis used to take you on.
LM: Yeah, Doc worked me hard. He'd roll up to my apartment in the middle of the night with that bike of his, and I'd be all groggy, throwing the first sweatshirt I could find so I could go out and follow him on runs.
PV: So that explains why you wore a pink sweatshirt.
LM: Yeah, I wouldn't even turn on the lights so I just grabbed any old thing.
PV: But tell me this, Little Mac. Why was it that you had a pink hoodie in the first place?
LM: It, uh... used to be red but faded because I sweated through it and it bled out the color.
PV: I see. I have some red shirts that I run in and that didn't happen with them.
LM: Right. Yours were probably made in the last 10 years. Back in the 80s the dyes weren't as strong. Really, I would never buy pink clothing. I'm totally masculine, dude.
PV: Well, not totally.
LM: What? Don't tell me you're about to rag on me about wearing a tanktop in the ring. Doc made me wear that so I'd have extra protection. Do you remember how big those guys were?
PV: They were pretty damn big. But you have to admit, a lot of your wins came against mediocre competition, to put it kindly. I mean Glass Joe? He only had one win in 100 fights, and that was due to a disqualification. Von Kaiser must be German for "tomato can." And who can forget that ludicrous bout with Don Flamenco in which he threw one punch and then sat there with his mouth open when you unleashed a series of 50 left-right combos to floor him within 38 seconds.
LM: Hey, I fought whoever they threw in front of me. I didn't negotiate the contracts. You gotta admit I survived a few wars. Soda Popinski? Super Macho Man? They were animals.
PV: I still have nightmares about Super Macho Man's jiggling breasts of victory.
LM: And Bald Bull and his bull charge. What power and intimidation.
PV: Especially in the second bout, when he wouldn't go down unless you threw an uppercut or slugged him in the stomach during the charge.
LM: And Great Tiger, when he used that magic to float around the ring in circles.
PV: Come on, Little Mac. That wasn't so tough. All you had to do was just block a few times, then he'd stand there stunned, having some sort of eye seizure until you smacked him in the turban.
LM: So tell me about your career nowadays? What's next for Little Mac?
LM: Well, I've done pretty well for myself. I've got a comeback match lined up with Evander Holyfield - the winner of that gets to fight Tonmmy Morrison at the Tennessee state fair.
PV: Really, at your age? You oughta be careful.
LM: Hey, I'm only 39. Rocky Balboa is in his 60s and he's still throwing hurtin' bombs.
PV: "Rocky Balboa" was just a movie, Little Mac. Video games are real life.
LM: Don't count me out, man. Actually, do count me out, because I relish the role as an underdog.
PV: I think you're just unnecessarily risking your health in a desperate grab for your former glory.
LM: I'm doing OK. I'm still big in the gaming world.
PV: Oh yeah? I thought you'd retired from that scene. I saw you didn't even make the cut in the sequel, "Super Punch Out" back in '94.
LM: Um, yeah... That was because of my agent. But I am the star of Wii Sports boxing.
PV: I hate to break this to you, bro, but you're not in every copy of that game. Just in mine, because I made a Mii that crudely looks like you and named it "Little Mac."
LM: Hmm. But I still get royalties, right?
PV: Sure, I'll give you ten bucks.
LM: Thank you. Boy do I need the money.
Sunday, July 08, 2007
Interview: Oscar the Grouch
PV: So, Oscar, why are you so grouchy?
OTG: Are you freaking kidding me? That's the dumbest question I ever heard. Why do you think? For one, PBS doesn't pay me, so I'm forced to live in this damn garbage can. I'm surrounded by morons who are happy for no reason, and I've always got a camera in my face. How happy would you be in my situation?
PV: Sorry, man. I didn't mean anything by it. Just trying to make conversation.
OTG: Hey, I'm sorry. It's just that life sucks and tend to lash out at those around me.
PV: Sounds counterproductive.
OTG: You're telling me. It's just a neverending spiral of depression, and probably why my wife left me.
PV: Divorced, huh? I never realized you were married. Who was the lucky bride?
OTG: Liz Taylor.
PV: Good job, man. She had it going on back in the day.
OTG: This was last year.
PV: Ouch.
OTG: Yeah, I know. We were drunk and in Vegas. One thing kinda led to another, and now I'm stuck with a monthly alimony payment.
PV: You're paying Liz Taylor alimony? How does that work? She's gotta be far more wealthy than you, right?
OTG: What can I say, she's got some killer lawyers and I defended myself in divorce court because I didn't trust anyone else to do the work for me.
PV: Sounds like you would have been better off with Elmo as your lawyer.
OTG: Ha ha. Very funny. I hate that prick. He's the one Liz left me for.
PV: I had no idea Liz Taylor was so into Sesame Street. Bizarre.
OTG: What are you trying to say? Is there something wrong with marrying a muppet? You humans and your superiority complexes.
PV: It's not that I think we're better. It's just that I'd never heard of puppets getting married to former movie stars before.
OTG: Sure, backpedal it up, you racist bastard. I oughta get Al Sharpton on your ass.
PV: Please don't. He'll probably get me fired from my job, and I need the paycheck.
OTG: You're breaking my heart. Tell you what. Find me a half-eaten pizza or a loaf of moldy bread and we'll call it even. I'm hungry.
PV: No deal, Oscar. That's extortion.
OTG: Well how about I jump out of this can and kick your ass then?
PV: Oscar, you and I both know you never leave that can.
OTG: Ya got me.
OTG: Are you freaking kidding me? That's the dumbest question I ever heard. Why do you think? For one, PBS doesn't pay me, so I'm forced to live in this damn garbage can. I'm surrounded by morons who are happy for no reason, and I've always got a camera in my face. How happy would you be in my situation?
PV: Sorry, man. I didn't mean anything by it. Just trying to make conversation.
OTG: Hey, I'm sorry. It's just that life sucks and tend to lash out at those around me.
PV: Sounds counterproductive.
OTG: You're telling me. It's just a neverending spiral of depression, and probably why my wife left me.
PV: Divorced, huh? I never realized you were married. Who was the lucky bride?
OTG: Liz Taylor.
PV: Good job, man. She had it going on back in the day.
OTG: This was last year.
PV: Ouch.
OTG: Yeah, I know. We were drunk and in Vegas. One thing kinda led to another, and now I'm stuck with a monthly alimony payment.
PV: You're paying Liz Taylor alimony? How does that work? She's gotta be far more wealthy than you, right?
OTG: What can I say, she's got some killer lawyers and I defended myself in divorce court because I didn't trust anyone else to do the work for me.
PV: Sounds like you would have been better off with Elmo as your lawyer.
OTG: Ha ha. Very funny. I hate that prick. He's the one Liz left me for.
PV: I had no idea Liz Taylor was so into Sesame Street. Bizarre.
OTG: What are you trying to say? Is there something wrong with marrying a muppet? You humans and your superiority complexes.
PV: It's not that I think we're better. It's just that I'd never heard of puppets getting married to former movie stars before.
OTG: Sure, backpedal it up, you racist bastard. I oughta get Al Sharpton on your ass.
PV: Please don't. He'll probably get me fired from my job, and I need the paycheck.
OTG: You're breaking my heart. Tell you what. Find me a half-eaten pizza or a loaf of moldy bread and we'll call it even. I'm hungry.
PV: No deal, Oscar. That's extortion.
OTG: Well how about I jump out of this can and kick your ass then?
PV: Oscar, you and I both know you never leave that can.
OTG: Ya got me.
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Interview: Mega Man
PV: Hi, Mega Man.
MM: Mega hi!
PV: Aw, crap. Don't tell me you actually talk the way you were portrayed in the animated series "Captain N: The Game Master. That's so obnoxious.
MM: Mega talk what mega way?
PV: You know, adding "mega" to the beginning of everything you say. We're only three questions into our discussion and I already want it to be over.
MM: Mega...
PV: Just say what you want to say! No wonder none of your video games ever let you talk. You're a moron! Is it too much to ask that a cannon-armed robot be able to communicate effectively?
MM: It's just that...
PV: Hey! Very good. You didn't start that sentence with "mega." Now, Mega Man, what is it you're trying to tell me?
MM: Mega...
PV: There's that word again! Dammit, Mega Man, I thought we were making progress!
MM: Mega...
PV: Mega? Is that a country? Do they speak English in Mega?
MM: Dude, you're totally copying Samuel L. Jackson in "Pulp Fiction" there. Get some new material.
PV: Why yes - yes I was. I'm so proud of you! You got through a full answer without using that word!
MM: That's because you finally shut your damn mouth long enough to allow me to actually get a word in. I don't have some speech impediment that makes me start phrases with "mega." That idiotic cartoon version of me on "Captain N" is totally Hollywood - just a simplistic creation to pander to dolts like you.
PV: But what about earlier when you kept starting your sentences with "mega"?
MM: The first time I was just putting on an act. I thought that's what you'd want, like how everyone harasses Gary Coleman into saying "Whatchu talking 'bout, Willis?" whenever they meet him. The second time I was just screwing with you.
PV: But what about the times after that?
MM: I wasn't even trying to say "mega' - you just stopped me too soon. The first time I was talking about my android wife, Megan, and another time I was about to make an observation about that megaphone over there in the corner of the interview room.
PV: Wow. I'm so, so sorry. You must think I'm as big of an asshole as Dr. Wiley right about now. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.
MM: Sure, whatever. You're forgiven. I've got to cut this short though. Dr. Wiley took over eight robot planets again and set a single-weaponed android boss on each one to protect it. I've gotta run, go co defeat all the androids, assimilate their attacks into my arm cannon and then threaten to kill Dr. Wiley until he begs for mercy and I let him go again.
PV: Maybe you should just kill him this time, you know? It's been like 20 games now where you've done the same routine over and over. You could move on to other things.
MM: Maybe you should shut the hell up.
MM: Mega hi!
PV: Aw, crap. Don't tell me you actually talk the way you were portrayed in the animated series "Captain N: The Game Master. That's so obnoxious.
MM: Mega talk what mega way?
PV: You know, adding "mega" to the beginning of everything you say. We're only three questions into our discussion and I already want it to be over.
MM: Mega...
PV: Just say what you want to say! No wonder none of your video games ever let you talk. You're a moron! Is it too much to ask that a cannon-armed robot be able to communicate effectively?
MM: It's just that...
PV: Hey! Very good. You didn't start that sentence with "mega." Now, Mega Man, what is it you're trying to tell me?
MM: Mega...
PV: There's that word again! Dammit, Mega Man, I thought we were making progress!
MM: Mega...
PV: Mega? Is that a country? Do they speak English in Mega?
MM: Dude, you're totally copying Samuel L. Jackson in "Pulp Fiction" there. Get some new material.
PV: Why yes - yes I was. I'm so proud of you! You got through a full answer without using that word!
MM: That's because you finally shut your damn mouth long enough to allow me to actually get a word in. I don't have some speech impediment that makes me start phrases with "mega." That idiotic cartoon version of me on "Captain N" is totally Hollywood - just a simplistic creation to pander to dolts like you.
PV: But what about earlier when you kept starting your sentences with "mega"?
MM: The first time I was just putting on an act. I thought that's what you'd want, like how everyone harasses Gary Coleman into saying "Whatchu talking 'bout, Willis?" whenever they meet him. The second time I was just screwing with you.
PV: But what about the times after that?
MM: I wasn't even trying to say "mega' - you just stopped me too soon. The first time I was talking about my android wife, Megan, and another time I was about to make an observation about that megaphone over there in the corner of the interview room.
PV: Wow. I'm so, so sorry. You must think I'm as big of an asshole as Dr. Wiley right about now. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.
MM: Sure, whatever. You're forgiven. I've got to cut this short though. Dr. Wiley took over eight robot planets again and set a single-weaponed android boss on each one to protect it. I've gotta run, go co defeat all the androids, assimilate their attacks into my arm cannon and then threaten to kill Dr. Wiley until he begs for mercy and I let him go again.
PV: Maybe you should just kill him this time, you know? It's been like 20 games now where you've done the same routine over and over. You could move on to other things.
MM: Maybe you should shut the hell up.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Interview: Yoshi
PV: Dude, I'm so honored to be talking to you right now. It's actually you, Yoshi! The dinosaur who lets Mario ride him like a pony! You're a hero, man!
Y: I'm not gonna lie. My body of work is pretty incredible and I can see why you're so overwhelmed. Super Mario World, Yoshi's Island 1 and 2, and my kick-ass career on Mario Kart can be pretty intimidating.
PV: Tell me, Yoshi, what is is that angers you the most?
Y: I hate it when people yell out the word "Yo!" when they're calling out to someone on the street, because I always think they're addressing me, then I walk up to them and they're looking at someone behind me.
PV: Yeah, that would suck. But I bet you get a lot of people mobbing you on the street because of your status. You must be living the great life.
Y: To me it's just a day job. My life is actually just like yours.
PV: Really?
Y: Yeah, except I have more money than your entire family combined and I get to have sex with whoever I want to, whenever I want to, however I want to.
PV: You just put some disgusting thoughts into my head.
Y: I'm sure you're just jealous, which is understandable. I mean, I'm Yoshi, and you're just a reporter. I'm sick of you media types always hounding me for interviews, and then when I sit down with you you're so negative. It's like everyone wants a piece of me. I don't have the time to be dealing with crap like this.
PV: Actually, Yoshi, this is the first interview you've ever given. And I was sort of sandbagging at the beginning there, because I know you're one of the less popular characters in the Super Mario universe and I was just trying to make you feel better about yourself - you know, butter you up a bit to build a rapport.
Y: You mean you're not in awe of my presence?
PV: Not at all. You're like the fourth most famous person I'm talking to this week. This interview means nothing to me.
Y: (Sniffs). That's sort of mean. (Sniffs).
PV: I'm just joshing you, Yoshi. It's just that my friend bet me $5 I couldn't make you cry, so now that I've won and I've got it on tape we can just move on.
Y: That's just cruel. You play with a video game dinosaur's emotions for $5? What's wrong with you?
PV: What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you? You have all these great abilities and you just waste them. Depending on which eggs you eat, you can fly or spit fire at enemies, and you never use them on your own projects. You're just Mario's stooge. Where's the self respect, man?
Y: What are you talking about? I have my own series of games!
PV: Yeah, but even in those you're still doing Mario's bitchwork, chauffeuring baby Mario and baby Luigi around wherever they want to go.
Y: Well, it's just that I'm loyal to those guys because, uh, I really like them.
PV: Be honest with me, Yoshi. It's blackmail, isn't it?
Y: They have nude pictures of me when I was younger, trying to make my career as a model.
PV: You can't stand for that kind of treatment, Yoshi!
Y: Hey, walk a mile in my shoes. I've got a reputation to maintain.
PV: I guess.
Y: I'm not gonna lie. My body of work is pretty incredible and I can see why you're so overwhelmed. Super Mario World, Yoshi's Island 1 and 2, and my kick-ass career on Mario Kart can be pretty intimidating.
PV: Tell me, Yoshi, what is is that angers you the most?
Y: I hate it when people yell out the word "Yo!" when they're calling out to someone on the street, because I always think they're addressing me, then I walk up to them and they're looking at someone behind me.
PV: Yeah, that would suck. But I bet you get a lot of people mobbing you on the street because of your status. You must be living the great life.
Y: To me it's just a day job. My life is actually just like yours.
PV: Really?
Y: Yeah, except I have more money than your entire family combined and I get to have sex with whoever I want to, whenever I want to, however I want to.
PV: You just put some disgusting thoughts into my head.
Y: I'm sure you're just jealous, which is understandable. I mean, I'm Yoshi, and you're just a reporter. I'm sick of you media types always hounding me for interviews, and then when I sit down with you you're so negative. It's like everyone wants a piece of me. I don't have the time to be dealing with crap like this.
PV: Actually, Yoshi, this is the first interview you've ever given. And I was sort of sandbagging at the beginning there, because I know you're one of the less popular characters in the Super Mario universe and I was just trying to make you feel better about yourself - you know, butter you up a bit to build a rapport.
Y: You mean you're not in awe of my presence?
PV: Not at all. You're like the fourth most famous person I'm talking to this week. This interview means nothing to me.
Y: (Sniffs). That's sort of mean. (Sniffs).
PV: I'm just joshing you, Yoshi. It's just that my friend bet me $5 I couldn't make you cry, so now that I've won and I've got it on tape we can just move on.
Y: That's just cruel. You play with a video game dinosaur's emotions for $5? What's wrong with you?
PV: What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you? You have all these great abilities and you just waste them. Depending on which eggs you eat, you can fly or spit fire at enemies, and you never use them on your own projects. You're just Mario's stooge. Where's the self respect, man?
Y: What are you talking about? I have my own series of games!
PV: Yeah, but even in those you're still doing Mario's bitchwork, chauffeuring baby Mario and baby Luigi around wherever they want to go.
Y: Well, it's just that I'm loyal to those guys because, uh, I really like them.
PV: Be honest with me, Yoshi. It's blackmail, isn't it?
Y: They have nude pictures of me when I was younger, trying to make my career as a model.
PV: You can't stand for that kind of treatment, Yoshi!
Y: Hey, walk a mile in my shoes. I've got a reputation to maintain.
PV: I guess.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Interview: Jeff the Mannequin
PV: Ah, Jeff the Mannequin from the beloved Nickelodeon show "Today's Special." Pleased to make your acquaintance.
J: The pleasure is all mine. My only request is that you ask your questions quickly, because we don't have much time.
PV: No?
J: As you know if you're familiar with the TV program, my magic hat only allows me come to life when the store is closed. We're opening up again in a few minutes.
PV: That's a heck of a lot of exposition, Jeff. I know all about your hat, how it was given to you by the magician Waldo the Magnificent and how wearing it lets you go off on adventures with the store designer, Jodie.
J: Of course, Phil. I was only giving your readers some background.
PV: What readers?
J: Surely you have readers, do you not?
PV: Not really. I used to have a few, but I guess they sort of got bored with this fake interview concept.
J: Why that's too bad. Would you like Jodie and I to teach you a lesson in how to reach out to new friends?
PV: I'll pass. No offense, but your show wasn't so good at teaching lessons, and that's probably why it got canceled after just a few years.
J: We lasted six years and made international syndication. Not bad for a low-budget Canadian show.
PV: Right, but still, you were no Sesame Street. Most of the things you taught me were completely irrelevant or altogether false.
J: I'm sorry to hear that. Would you kindly elaborate?
PV: Well, like talking mice who interact with robots to fix the store's P.A. system, and the sound boxes that would open up and music would sprout out. Those don't really exist. Also, your show made it look like it was possible for a lonely person to engage in a fulfilling relationship with a mannequin. And let me tell you, from my personal experience with the pointy-nippled dress mannequins at Dillard's, it ain't as easy as you and Jodie made it look.
J: Speak for yourself. I never had any trouble getting those Dillard's mannequins to put out. They were complete whores. They must have found you even below their pathetically low standards.
PV: Be that as it may, I didn't really get much from your show. For me it was like "Darkwing Duck" or "Inspector Gadget" - something I watched more out of habit than enjoyment.
J: Oh really? Sounds like an apt descriptor for my nightly sexual rendezvous with your mother.
PV: Believe me, Jeff. You don't want to get into a yo momma thing with me. I'll lay waste to your inanimate ass.
J: I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said. It's not me. It's the magic hat.
PV: Sure, blame the hat.
J: OK, it's only partially the hat. I'm also kind of a dick off camera. But let me ask you something - you caught the show on Nickelodeon, right?
PV: Right.
J: Well that explains why you may not have learned much. "Today's Special" was made for commercial-free public TV, and commercial network trimmed a few minutes off so they could squeeze in commercials.
PV: Huh, I never knew that. What kind of stuff did they cut out?
J: Quizzes, explanations of the show's morals, all sorts of great stuff. Believe me, if you had gotten to watch the whole thing, you would have been a much smarter young boy, and in turn a much wiser man.
PV: Be honest, Jeff. They really only trimmed the dopey musical numbers, didn't they?
J: Sorta.
J: The pleasure is all mine. My only request is that you ask your questions quickly, because we don't have much time.
PV: No?
J: As you know if you're familiar with the TV program, my magic hat only allows me come to life when the store is closed. We're opening up again in a few minutes.
PV: That's a heck of a lot of exposition, Jeff. I know all about your hat, how it was given to you by the magician Waldo the Magnificent and how wearing it lets you go off on adventures with the store designer, Jodie.
J: Of course, Phil. I was only giving your readers some background.
PV: What readers?
J: Surely you have readers, do you not?
PV: Not really. I used to have a few, but I guess they sort of got bored with this fake interview concept.
J: Why that's too bad. Would you like Jodie and I to teach you a lesson in how to reach out to new friends?
PV: I'll pass. No offense, but your show wasn't so good at teaching lessons, and that's probably why it got canceled after just a few years.
J: We lasted six years and made international syndication. Not bad for a low-budget Canadian show.
PV: Right, but still, you were no Sesame Street. Most of the things you taught me were completely irrelevant or altogether false.
J: I'm sorry to hear that. Would you kindly elaborate?
PV: Well, like talking mice who interact with robots to fix the store's P.A. system, and the sound boxes that would open up and music would sprout out. Those don't really exist. Also, your show made it look like it was possible for a lonely person to engage in a fulfilling relationship with a mannequin. And let me tell you, from my personal experience with the pointy-nippled dress mannequins at Dillard's, it ain't as easy as you and Jodie made it look.
J: Speak for yourself. I never had any trouble getting those Dillard's mannequins to put out. They were complete whores. They must have found you even below their pathetically low standards.
PV: Be that as it may, I didn't really get much from your show. For me it was like "Darkwing Duck" or "Inspector Gadget" - something I watched more out of habit than enjoyment.
J: Oh really? Sounds like an apt descriptor for my nightly sexual rendezvous with your mother.
PV: Believe me, Jeff. You don't want to get into a yo momma thing with me. I'll lay waste to your inanimate ass.
J: I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said. It's not me. It's the magic hat.
PV: Sure, blame the hat.
J: OK, it's only partially the hat. I'm also kind of a dick off camera. But let me ask you something - you caught the show on Nickelodeon, right?
PV: Right.
J: Well that explains why you may not have learned much. "Today's Special" was made for commercial-free public TV, and commercial network trimmed a few minutes off so they could squeeze in commercials.
PV: Huh, I never knew that. What kind of stuff did they cut out?
J: Quizzes, explanations of the show's morals, all sorts of great stuff. Believe me, if you had gotten to watch the whole thing, you would have been a much smarter young boy, and in turn a much wiser man.
PV: Be honest, Jeff. They really only trimmed the dopey musical numbers, didn't they?
J: Sorta.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Interview: Count Chocula
PV: Dude, you've got the best cereal ever made.
CC: I vant to suck your blood.
PV: Geez, man. That's a little too forward for my liking. Learn how to take a compliment.
CC: Sorry, I just thought I'd make it clear, the reason vy I agreed to this interview.
PV: Fair enough. You are, after all a vampire. But let me make one thing clear - there will be no blood sucking. I brought an oak dagger with me and I won't hesitate to drive it through that black little heart of yours if you so much as take a step toward me.
CC: I understand. It's just me and my hand tonight.
PV: A fan of Pink, are you?
CC: Yes, yes. Veddy much so. I go all the way back to her early stuff. I vonder if I have a shot vith her. Perhaps she ate my cereal growing up? You know I laced the cereal with a chemical that vas meant to make vair maidens vall hopelessly in love vith the Count.
PV: Don't think you have much of a shot, Choc. She's married. Besides, you wouldn't be good for her anyway. You'd probably just string her along for a while, suck her dry and send her into your harem of undead wenches.
CC: Vat can I say. The underground just don't stop for hos, yo.
PV: You like Tupac, too?
CC: Voo doesn't?
PV: I dunno. I just thought you'd be more into the Transylvanian music scene.
CC: I'm not vrom Transylvania, kid. I vas born and vaised in South Philly.
PV: Awesome. That's where Rocky is from. Did you ever run up the stairs of the Philadelphia Museum of Art and raise your fists in glory?
CC: All the time. The truth is, I vas hoping to be a boxer ven I vas just a young batling. I succumbed to the vamily business in order to please my vatter.
PV: That surprises me. You always seemed so happy with your work. What great people to work with - Frankenberry and Boo Berry.
CC: Bah! Zey vere just vanna-bees. My chocolate goodness is so much better tasting.
PV: Yeah, it's pretty good. I liked to mix it with Frankenberry. The after-milk - you know, the stuff left over after I was done with the cereal, was the most delicious blend of strawberry and chocolate.
CC: How dare you dilute the purity of my product by mixing it with something so inferior? A curse on your and your family for a thousand generations!
PV: Curse on you and your family for a billion generations.
CC: Hey! Please, take it back?
PV: Only if you take back your curse on me.
CC: Fine, done.
PV: Done.
CC: I vant to suck your blood.
PV: Geez, man. That's a little too forward for my liking. Learn how to take a compliment.
CC: Sorry, I just thought I'd make it clear, the reason vy I agreed to this interview.
PV: Fair enough. You are, after all a vampire. But let me make one thing clear - there will be no blood sucking. I brought an oak dagger with me and I won't hesitate to drive it through that black little heart of yours if you so much as take a step toward me.
CC: I understand. It's just me and my hand tonight.
PV: A fan of Pink, are you?
CC: Yes, yes. Veddy much so. I go all the way back to her early stuff. I vonder if I have a shot vith her. Perhaps she ate my cereal growing up? You know I laced the cereal with a chemical that vas meant to make vair maidens vall hopelessly in love vith the Count.
PV: Don't think you have much of a shot, Choc. She's married. Besides, you wouldn't be good for her anyway. You'd probably just string her along for a while, suck her dry and send her into your harem of undead wenches.
CC: Vat can I say. The underground just don't stop for hos, yo.
PV: You like Tupac, too?
CC: Voo doesn't?
PV: I dunno. I just thought you'd be more into the Transylvanian music scene.
CC: I'm not vrom Transylvania, kid. I vas born and vaised in South Philly.
PV: Awesome. That's where Rocky is from. Did you ever run up the stairs of the Philadelphia Museum of Art and raise your fists in glory?
CC: All the time. The truth is, I vas hoping to be a boxer ven I vas just a young batling. I succumbed to the vamily business in order to please my vatter.
PV: That surprises me. You always seemed so happy with your work. What great people to work with - Frankenberry and Boo Berry.
CC: Bah! Zey vere just vanna-bees. My chocolate goodness is so much better tasting.
PV: Yeah, it's pretty good. I liked to mix it with Frankenberry. The after-milk - you know, the stuff left over after I was done with the cereal, was the most delicious blend of strawberry and chocolate.
CC: How dare you dilute the purity of my product by mixing it with something so inferior? A curse on your and your family for a thousand generations!
PV: Curse on you and your family for a billion generations.
CC: Hey! Please, take it back?
PV: Only if you take back your curse on me.
CC: Fine, done.
PV: Done.
Sunday, June 03, 2007
Interview: Mr. Rogers
PV: Whoah. I totally didn't expect you to show up today.
MR: Well, neighbor, old habits die hard. Just as I never missed appearing on my show in 35 years, I make it a point not to miss an interview appointment.
PV: I understand you're punctual, but you're dead, aren't you?
MR: I may have passed away due to stomach cancer in 2003, but I'll live forever on DVD. Wherever there are educational puppets, I'll be there. Wherever there are hobby trains that go through living rooms, you'll see me. Wherever there are cardigan sweaters, there my spirit shall be.
PV: So are you, like, a ghost? Can you go through walls and stuff? Or do you have some sort of problem I need to help you solve like the spirits in "The Sixth Sense?"
MR: The only problem I have are your probing questions. How about you let me read a book to you?
PV: A book? What am I, five? This isn't your show, Rogers. It's an interview. I'm here to get some hard answers from you.
MR: Shoot.
PV: Funny you should mention that word. Everyone says you served as a Navy SEAL as a sniper, laying waste to enemies with chilling precision. So how about it, are you handy with a sniper rifle?
MR: Violence is no way to solve problems, neighbor. People who disagree should watch a puppet show or share a book.
PV: That doesn't answer my question.
MR: No, I didn't serve in Vietnam. I'm a pacifist.
PV: Or are you just covering something up? If you really did do top-secret ops in the war I'm sure you wouldn't tell a schlub like me.
MR: I must admit, a sweater-wearing, slow-talking kiddie show host would have made a great cover for secret government assassin. I guess you'll just have to take me at my word. Honesty, you know, is the best policy.
PV: Don't take this the wrong way, but you always creeped me out.
MR: Did I? Or did you really love my show as a child and only started to see me as creepy once you were older and more cynical?
PV: Um, um...
MR: I think we both know the answer. The only creepiness you see in a wholesome, fatherly persona such as myself is that which you project onto me. Now apologize.
PV: I'm sorry I called you creepy, Mr. Rogers.
MR: Apology accepted.
PV: But, uh, you are kind of creepy. After all, you're a ghost!
MR: Am I a ghost, or a hologram? I'll never reveal my secrets.
PV: You are a shifty one, sir. Now I know for sure you didn't serve in Vietnam.
MR: Oh yes? Why is that?
PV: Because if you had, we would have won the war, because you're Mr. Rogers, and you're immortal and you're awesome.
MR: I can't argue with you there.
MR: Well, neighbor, old habits die hard. Just as I never missed appearing on my show in 35 years, I make it a point not to miss an interview appointment.
PV: I understand you're punctual, but you're dead, aren't you?
MR: I may have passed away due to stomach cancer in 2003, but I'll live forever on DVD. Wherever there are educational puppets, I'll be there. Wherever there are hobby trains that go through living rooms, you'll see me. Wherever there are cardigan sweaters, there my spirit shall be.
PV: So are you, like, a ghost? Can you go through walls and stuff? Or do you have some sort of problem I need to help you solve like the spirits in "The Sixth Sense?"
MR: The only problem I have are your probing questions. How about you let me read a book to you?
PV: A book? What am I, five? This isn't your show, Rogers. It's an interview. I'm here to get some hard answers from you.
MR: Shoot.
PV: Funny you should mention that word. Everyone says you served as a Navy SEAL as a sniper, laying waste to enemies with chilling precision. So how about it, are you handy with a sniper rifle?
MR: Violence is no way to solve problems, neighbor. People who disagree should watch a puppet show or share a book.
PV: That doesn't answer my question.
MR: No, I didn't serve in Vietnam. I'm a pacifist.
PV: Or are you just covering something up? If you really did do top-secret ops in the war I'm sure you wouldn't tell a schlub like me.
MR: I must admit, a sweater-wearing, slow-talking kiddie show host would have made a great cover for secret government assassin. I guess you'll just have to take me at my word. Honesty, you know, is the best policy.
PV: Don't take this the wrong way, but you always creeped me out.
MR: Did I? Or did you really love my show as a child and only started to see me as creepy once you were older and more cynical?
PV: Um, um...
MR: I think we both know the answer. The only creepiness you see in a wholesome, fatherly persona such as myself is that which you project onto me. Now apologize.
PV: I'm sorry I called you creepy, Mr. Rogers.
MR: Apology accepted.
PV: But, uh, you are kind of creepy. After all, you're a ghost!
MR: Am I a ghost, or a hologram? I'll never reveal my secrets.
PV: You are a shifty one, sir. Now I know for sure you didn't serve in Vietnam.
MR: Oh yes? Why is that?
PV: Because if you had, we would have won the war, because you're Mr. Rogers, and you're immortal and you're awesome.
MR: I can't argue with you there.
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Interview: Big Bird
PV: Yo, Big, what's going down on the street?
BB: Same crap, different day. Oscar is complaining, Bert and Ernie are hanging out in the closet and Count Von Count is into his usual OCD routine. I need to get out of here, man. It's been decades with this same exact gig. My agent doesn't know what the hell he's doing.
PV: So you're ready to move on, huh? I always thought you'd be a Sesame Street lifer. You always looked like you were having such a good time.
BB: It's acting, baby. My craft. I'm into the whole method thing. Live it, breathe it, experience it and sell it to your audience. It's all a lie, my whole public image. I've been in and out of depression for 15 years now. My performance evaluations are always miserable, and the raises the tight-assed management gives out are comically small. We need to at least unionize or something.
PV: I'd vote Cookie Monster as your union treasurer.
BB: Yeah, right. I wouldn't trust that gluttonous fool around loose cash. You think cookies are the only things he can't stop consuming? You should see the guy when he goes off on benders of Scotch, hashish and prostitutes in Amsterdam. It's incredible that lifestyle of his hasn't driven him into the grave.
PV: Cookie Monster's a drug and whore addict? I'd never have known! Next thing you'll tell me is Snuffleupagus is a Scientologist!
BB: Snuff ain't real, bro. Ever wonder why I'm the only one who can see him? It's a total LSD flashback, I guess. The whole Haight-Ashbury scene during the psychadelic area really led me astray.
PV: Wow, I never figured you for an acid dropper.
BB: I did some wild stuff back in the day. You don't even wanna know. So many women.
PV: You slept with actual woman? Gross.
BB: No, I mean female birds, friend. Tons of 'em. Partridges, parakeets, storks, even an ostrich every once in a while.
PV: Ostriches, huh?
BB: Yeah, it's so hot when they stick their faces in the dirt, all bent over. Oh, man.
PV: You're disgusting.
BB: Nothing's disgusting about free love, man. We were gonna change the world. No war, no politics, and material things didn't mean a thing.
PV: And now look at you. You've completely sold out all your ideals. You're nothing but a corporate shill who complains he's not paid enough. Where did you go wrong?
BB: I don't know, man. Somewhere along the way I lost sight of all that I held dear, and now I'm just some letter jockey. Today's letter is F. For forlorn.
BB: Same crap, different day. Oscar is complaining, Bert and Ernie are hanging out in the closet and Count Von Count is into his usual OCD routine. I need to get out of here, man. It's been decades with this same exact gig. My agent doesn't know what the hell he's doing.
PV: So you're ready to move on, huh? I always thought you'd be a Sesame Street lifer. You always looked like you were having such a good time.
BB: It's acting, baby. My craft. I'm into the whole method thing. Live it, breathe it, experience it and sell it to your audience. It's all a lie, my whole public image. I've been in and out of depression for 15 years now. My performance evaluations are always miserable, and the raises the tight-assed management gives out are comically small. We need to at least unionize or something.
PV: I'd vote Cookie Monster as your union treasurer.
BB: Yeah, right. I wouldn't trust that gluttonous fool around loose cash. You think cookies are the only things he can't stop consuming? You should see the guy when he goes off on benders of Scotch, hashish and prostitutes in Amsterdam. It's incredible that lifestyle of his hasn't driven him into the grave.
PV: Cookie Monster's a drug and whore addict? I'd never have known! Next thing you'll tell me is Snuffleupagus is a Scientologist!
BB: Snuff ain't real, bro. Ever wonder why I'm the only one who can see him? It's a total LSD flashback, I guess. The whole Haight-Ashbury scene during the psychadelic area really led me astray.
PV: Wow, I never figured you for an acid dropper.
BB: I did some wild stuff back in the day. You don't even wanna know. So many women.
PV: You slept with actual woman? Gross.
BB: No, I mean female birds, friend. Tons of 'em. Partridges, parakeets, storks, even an ostrich every once in a while.
PV: Ostriches, huh?
BB: Yeah, it's so hot when they stick their faces in the dirt, all bent over. Oh, man.
PV: You're disgusting.
BB: Nothing's disgusting about free love, man. We were gonna change the world. No war, no politics, and material things didn't mean a thing.
PV: And now look at you. You've completely sold out all your ideals. You're nothing but a corporate shill who complains he's not paid enough. Where did you go wrong?
BB: I don't know, man. Somewhere along the way I lost sight of all that I held dear, and now I'm just some letter jockey. Today's letter is F. For forlorn.
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Interview: Alvin
PV: How's the chipmunk rock star treating you, Alvin?
A: I just got out of rehab and I'm trying to get my life back together. I'm thinking of getting back with the band for a reunion tour. Or maybe it's time for a solo project.
PV: Rehab? I never knew!
A: Yeah, all those years of touring really took their toll. I lost sight of what was really important, you know? The stress of the road forced me to turn to hookers and drugs, and it really sapped away my creativity.
PV: No offense, but all the songs you and the Chipmunks made were covers, weren't they? So having your creativity sapped away couldn't have hurt you that much.
A: I resent that remark. Do you know how much skill it takes to sing fast, high-pitched versions of classic rock songs? It's harder than it looks, man. I'd like to see you do it. You could never fill my shoes. You're nothing but a rock journalist sapping off my stardom so you can make your money scribbling stupid little rants in your monthly rag. And besides, we did come up with one song of our own - the intro to the TV show.
PV: First off, I'm not a rock journalist. But I think I remember the song you're talking about. The one that went "Alvin, Simon, Theodore! Doo-doo. Do-do-do-do!" Right? Sorry I overlooked that classic.
A: Apology not accepted due to your sarcasm.
PV: Let's just leave the subject behind and move on then. What was the situation with Dave, your manager? Was he your adoptive father?
A: Dave was an asshole. Ever see that TV miniseries "The Jacksons?" Our lives were exactly like that - Dave was Joe Jackson. First off he took us from our woodland home, then forced us to learn English. As if that wasn't weird and unnatural enough, he also made us form a cover band, and was obsessed with making us big stars. He worked us so hard. We'd do 11 hour practice sessions without a break. He wouldn't even let us pee or eat. Theodore was a big eater, you know, and he would show up to rehearsals with nuts buried in his cheeks. Dave would catch him in the act and pimp slap the nuts right out of his mouth. He was cruel, man. So cruel.
PV: At least you had the Chipettes to tour with, right? That had to have lifted the burden. I always thought it was amazing how there happened to be a female singing chipmunk trio, and they were exactly like you: Brittany, the smartass leader who was a female version of you; Jeanette, the awkward, lanky dork and Eleanor, the fat-assed malcontent who always screwed things up like Theodore.
A: Yeah, really lucky. The bitches wouldn't put out at all.
PV: That amazes me. Brittany always seemed slutty to me.
A: A total acorn tease, dude. I don't even wanna get into it.
PV: That's too bad, you guys could have had some incredibly talented children.
A: Brother, I don't even know how many children I have out there. There were so many groupies, so many orgies and one-night stands. And I'm sure I don't even remember the half of it. I never even wore a condom.
PV: Gross.
A: You're just jealous.
PV: I would have been jealous if you got to have sex with Brittany. I was totally into her when I was 5. But no, Alvin. I just pity you.
A: Get out of my house.
PV: I'm not in your house. We're talking on the phone.
A: Oh yeah. I just hallucinated that you were here because of an acid flashback.
A: I just got out of rehab and I'm trying to get my life back together. I'm thinking of getting back with the band for a reunion tour. Or maybe it's time for a solo project.
PV: Rehab? I never knew!
A: Yeah, all those years of touring really took their toll. I lost sight of what was really important, you know? The stress of the road forced me to turn to hookers and drugs, and it really sapped away my creativity.
PV: No offense, but all the songs you and the Chipmunks made were covers, weren't they? So having your creativity sapped away couldn't have hurt you that much.
A: I resent that remark. Do you know how much skill it takes to sing fast, high-pitched versions of classic rock songs? It's harder than it looks, man. I'd like to see you do it. You could never fill my shoes. You're nothing but a rock journalist sapping off my stardom so you can make your money scribbling stupid little rants in your monthly rag. And besides, we did come up with one song of our own - the intro to the TV show.
PV: First off, I'm not a rock journalist. But I think I remember the song you're talking about. The one that went "Alvin, Simon, Theodore! Doo-doo. Do-do-do-do!" Right? Sorry I overlooked that classic.
A: Apology not accepted due to your sarcasm.
PV: Let's just leave the subject behind and move on then. What was the situation with Dave, your manager? Was he your adoptive father?
A: Dave was an asshole. Ever see that TV miniseries "The Jacksons?" Our lives were exactly like that - Dave was Joe Jackson. First off he took us from our woodland home, then forced us to learn English. As if that wasn't weird and unnatural enough, he also made us form a cover band, and was obsessed with making us big stars. He worked us so hard. We'd do 11 hour practice sessions without a break. He wouldn't even let us pee or eat. Theodore was a big eater, you know, and he would show up to rehearsals with nuts buried in his cheeks. Dave would catch him in the act and pimp slap the nuts right out of his mouth. He was cruel, man. So cruel.
PV: At least you had the Chipettes to tour with, right? That had to have lifted the burden. I always thought it was amazing how there happened to be a female singing chipmunk trio, and they were exactly like you: Brittany, the smartass leader who was a female version of you; Jeanette, the awkward, lanky dork and Eleanor, the fat-assed malcontent who always screwed things up like Theodore.
A: Yeah, really lucky. The bitches wouldn't put out at all.
PV: That amazes me. Brittany always seemed slutty to me.
A: A total acorn tease, dude. I don't even wanna get into it.
PV: That's too bad, you guys could have had some incredibly talented children.
A: Brother, I don't even know how many children I have out there. There were so many groupies, so many orgies and one-night stands. And I'm sure I don't even remember the half of it. I never even wore a condom.
PV: Gross.
A: You're just jealous.
PV: I would have been jealous if you got to have sex with Brittany. I was totally into her when I was 5. But no, Alvin. I just pity you.
A: Get out of my house.
PV: I'm not in your house. We're talking on the phone.
A: Oh yeah. I just hallucinated that you were here because of an acid flashback.
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