The Interview

"Why don't you tell me a little bit of your background?"
"Well, everyone who's anyone knows that."
"Enlighten the ignorant, then."

I was fed up. None of my inquiries has garnered more than one or two words. So it was that the next question flew out of my mouth was a missile, completely impromptu, yet harsh on purpose.

"What's your goal in life?" I asked.

A sharp smile spread across his cheeks like uncurling claws.

"Ah," he said, "now you're getting somewhere."

He reached one arm over the ashtray and, with only his pointer finger, tapped his cigarette twice. So pretentious. I examined him once again, head to toe. An olive-green cap with a red feather in it. Thin cheeks, marked by a thin, but coarse beard. Beady brown eyes, yet charming. A tweed vest over a loosely-buttoned silk shirt. To subltly top it all off, he wore khaki pants, and had one of his legs drooped loosely over the other.

My gaze drifted back up to eyes. He stared at me for a second, then tilted his head back and blew a yarn of smoke into the air.

"What's my goal in life?" he repeated. "I think---to make as many people come to funeral as I can."

"Yeah?" I said, no longer caring how professional I sounded. "That's your goal is it?"

"No, that's too vague, isn't it?"

"Probably," I said.

"Then---to make as many people cry at my funeral as possible... yeah."

"Okay. I think I've heard enough. Tell me, Mr. Flint, why do you bother doing these interviews at all if you just don't care?"

His eyes sparkled, and he uncrossed his legs. He leaned forward and said: "You're not getting testy, are you?"

I sighed. On the coffee table lay my vintage tape recorder. I reached for it; I was finished. Just as my fingertips started to press the stop button, something happened. Flint's cold, sweaty palm flung from its perch on the embroidered arm-rest and grabbed mine. Bony tentacles clutched my crumpled hand.

"Don't do that," he said solemnly.

I could only stare blankly at his sudden change of expression.

"Uh," I stammered, "Why not, Mr. Flint? You want this interview to be over just as much as I do, no?" I wasn't asking this to play games with him.

"Er---"


.... still unfinished, obviously.