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Articles
First of all, I need to apologize for the ridiculous self-promotion in my last column. I was as surprised about it as you were. I wish to assure each and every fair-weather-reader of The Seriously Whacked Point of View that the version I turned in did NOT shamelessly promote my novel, but was instead filled with childish references to Kate Walker's butt. I was very disturbed by this when I saw it, so I immediately called up Just Adventure's editor Randy Sluganski, the man beloved to newsgroup trolls worldwide. What follows is a transcript of our conversation: JEFF: Is this Randy? RANDY: Who is this? How did you get this number? JEFF: It's Jeff...you know, the guy who does that biweekly column for you. The guy blowing bubbles in the author photo...? RANDY: Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah. What's up with those bubbles, anyway? JEFF: Bubbles are fun. RANDY: That they are. I once ate a bubble. Tasted like soap. JEFF: Sorry to bother you so late, but I just saw my latest column, and I was a little concerned about the editorial interference. RANDY: Well, then you're just going to have to learn how to spell "streptococcal." JEFF: No, not that. There's a part where it looks like I'm telling everybody to buy my novel [title withheld]. RANDY: Oh yeah, that. Did you like it? JEFF: To be honest, no. It really harmed the credibility of the point I was trying to make. If people really think that my ultimate adventure game would contain promotion for [title withheld again], why should they take anything I say seriously? RANDY: Ah, you're just overreacting. I thought you could use the boost in sales, so I stuck that in there. You deserve it. JEFF: But the thing is, my column is supposed to be about the games. It's not about me, it's not about you, it's not about our sponsors, it's about the games themselves. It's only about the games. Don't you understand? There's an intimacy there. RANDY: Jeff, the hole in the CD is NOT for-- JEFF: If this column loses its purity, I might as well not write it at all. I might as well just fill this space with tasteless and offensive conversations taking place in restaurants! RANDY: You wouldn't dare! * * * [SCENE: A restaurant. Cindy and John are seated, looking over the menus.] CINDY: Have you ever come here before? JOHN: Actually, about once a week. It's very good. [The waiter approaches.] WAITER: Are you ready to order? CINDY [to John]: I'm still looking. You go right ahead. JOHN: I'll have the fettuccini alfredo with blackened chicken. WAITER: Very good, sir. CINDY: I have a question about the spaghetti. WAITER: Yes? CINDY: The meat sauce...is it made with human flesh? WAITER [long pause]: No, ma'am. CINDY: Oh good. I'll have that then. WAITER: Excellent choice, ma'am. CINDY: Because if there's anything I'm not, it's a cannibal. A disgusting practice, don't you think? JOHN: Uh, yeah. CINDY: It's horrible, just horrible. Those people should be locked up. [The waiter leaves.] JOHN: So...what do you like to do in your spare time? CINDY: What are you implying? JOHN: Nothing. CINDY: You're implying that I'm a cannibal in my spare time, aren't you? JOHN: No, no, it was just a question. CINDY: Well, I'm not. Cannibalism is illegal and morally offensive, and human flesh has never entered my stomach. Never. So you can just quit giving me that "You're a cannibal" look. JOHN: I wasn't giving you that kind of look. CINDY: Whatever you say. [Long, uncomfortable pause.] CINDY: Okay, once. JOHN: What? CINDY: I ate human flesh once. Are you happy? JOHN: Not really. CINDY: I was in a cave with a tour group. The exit collapsed, we were trapped for two weeks, we drew straws, my ex-husband lost...you know the drill. JOHN: You ate your ex-husband? CINDY: Yes. Stop that. JOHN: What? CINDY: You're giving me the "You're a cannibal" look again. JOHN: I'm sorry. CINDY: It was a long time ago, and quite frankly I don't care to dredge up such unpleasant memories. [Another long, uncomfortable pause.] CINDY: Okay, he didn't really draw the short straw. JOHN: He didn't? CINDY: And we weren't really trapped in a cave. JOHN: You weren't? CINDY: We were at home. I found out he was cheating on me, shot him dead, and ate the body to dispose of the evidence. JOHN: You ate all of him? CINDY: Yes. JOHN: Even the bones? CINDY: What are you implying? JOHN: I'm not implying anything, I'm just asking. [Yet another long, uncomfortable pause.] CINDY: The diet wasn't going well, okay? I'd been eating nothing but rice cakes for a month and I wasn't losing any weight and I was getting frustrated and one night I just lost it and went down to raid the refrigerator but I hadn't gone shopping that week so I grabbed the electric carving knife and ran back upstairs to our bedroom and ate, ate, ate! JOHN: Did you ever go back on the diet? CINDY: Yeah. JOHN: Well, that's to be admired, at least. CINDY: Thank you. JOHN: Yo-yo dieting is a major problem in today's society, and though we're all human and everyone makes mistakes, it's good that you gave it another shot and refused to give up. And sure, you may have devoured your husband, but that's in the past. You succumbed to weakness, but you learned from your experience, and I would never think of holding that against you. CINDY: You're so sweet. JOHN: Well, it's always been my belief that... [He trails off, suddenly realizing something.] CINDY: What's wrong? JOHN: When I picked you up at your apartment, you squeezed my arm. CINDY: I don't remember that. JOHN: You did! You squeezed my arm. And you asked me to stand on that scale. And you had me take that body fat test. You were planning to eat me! CINDY: No, that's ridiculous! JOHN: I can't believe your nerve! If you want to practice cannibalism, that's your own business, but don't expect me to offer myself for your deviant appetite! CINDY: I wasn't going to eat you! I promise! [A very short pause.] Okay, I was. Raw. Are you happy now? JOHN: You're sick! This blind date is over! [He stands up.] CINDY: Fine! You're probably all stringy anyway! [John sits back down.] JOHN: I am not. CINDY: I bet you are. You're probably kind of gritty, too. JOHN: Hey, I'll have you know that my flesh is like filet mignon. CINDY: You wish. JOHN: I'm serious. CINDY: Prove it. JOHN: All right, you can eat my left arm. But that's it. CINDY: That sounds fair enough. JOHN: Shall we go? CINDY: Sure. [They leave, hand in hand.] CINDY [to herself]: There'll be nothing left when I'm done. * * * RANDY: You bastard! JEFF: I warned you! And I'll do it again! I will! Every other Friday you'll be checking your site and you'll see a skit about rabies or something! RANDY: All right, all right! You win! I won't promote your books anymore. JEFF: Thank you. RANDY: You're right, it should be about adventure games and nothing else. Next time you can discuss the ultimate adventure game without me wrecking things for you. I don't suppose we can turn the subject back to adventure games now, just to try to salvage this one...? JEFF: Kate Walker sure has a nice butt. So, on behalf of Just Adventure, I wish to apologize for the debacle of my last column, and promise to continue providing web surfers worldwide with the classy entertainment they come to expect from The Seriously Whacked Point of View. Thank you for your patience.
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