Articles
 by Jeff Strand October 11, 2002 |
The
Seriously Whacked Point of View “An by Jeff Strand |
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.
Jeff Strand desperately hopes that nobody reading this will visit
his website at http://www.jeffstrand.com looking for purchasing information
for his novel Graverobbers Wanted (No Experience Necessary), and after
this column, that probably won’t be a problem.
