I really don't understand this. I am in the studio, and sitting in the chair before me is a 6 inch tall fur-ball with blood dripping from its mouth. I am actually interviewing a rat, I really need to have words with the quality control department of this site...
So, er, Mr. Rat, how's it going?
I'm glad you ashked me dat pal, as I gotta bone ta pick wit chu. I'm not just a stoopid rat, I'm a mafia crime-bawrs, and I got hundreds of minions slaving for me all around da woyrld.
Sorry Mr. Rat, no smoking in the studio. And excuse me for asking but, what the hell is going on with your gangsta accent. That can't be natural...
Da boyz at Monolith gave it ta me. I pointed my gun at tem and said "Put up your dukes, dis is a hold up. I want a gangsta accent to eccentuate my new jawb as a mafia crime-bawrs." Da guy in charge looked at me, in da eyes, and said "I know where you's comin' from. Siddown and I'll set tcha up."
Do you have one of those poncy mafia nicknames, like heavy-d or somesuch?
My name is Mr. Rat. Ya call me dat or I get da boyz to sort ya out.
I see. When you go down the pub, right, and you get really really drunk, do you walk home or do you get some big bitch-ass limo picking you up and dropping you off in the suite?
Da boyz stay wit me and sort me out.
And what's the technical term for a drunken rat? Rat-assed? *Smiles*
I hope you's jokin' pal, I don't come here justa tawk stoopid wit chu. You gotta be a good intaviewa, or I's gonna be wawking straight out dat daw, and you know it. And you's gonna have trouble wawking at all.
*Ignores threat* Really. And you pals Bounce-boy and Smack Tup are going to administer some retribution on me are they?
You could say dat. *Smiles* Mind if I ask you a question? Good. I awways read dis column, and I noticed dat you often get inta arguments, and I quite enjoy reading dem. Would you say you was naturawly a bad guy? Like me?
On the contrary, I may enjoy it, but I always stand for goodness. Not my problem if the people I interview are stupid as hell. The only intelligent interviewees I've had are Gabriella and Gideon. Everyone else is just plain stupid. Look at the Bloated Butcher for instance, he was so stupid, he actually ended up as a permanent exhibit in the laundry downstairs. *Smiles*
Dat's a good point. I like ya Mugwum, would you be intewested in joinin' up wit me and da guys I work for?
No, I have a perfectly good job here actually.
I don't fink dat's what you'd be sayin' if you knew da score. Da guys pay you whatever you want, you get all da good shit free, imported especially, and I could get you a great position... Nah, I'd prefer to stay and work here to be honest, it's not a personal thing I have with you, but I like my job, and I'd rather not sign up for the mafia.
Well then I think I betta conclude dis interview. I tink you made a bad choice Mugwum, I wouldna ashked you if I taught you'd say no. I can't let you go knowin' dat you know about me. So I gotta kill ya Mugwum.
I see. How?
Quick shot to the head if dat suits ya.
No thanks Mr. Rat.
[Mr. Rat's henchmen tried to get Mugwum, but he wasn't having any of it. He picked up Mr. Rat and slapped both the henchmen with it, before hitting the self-destruct count-down on his office timer, squishing Mr. Rat and jumping out of the window to safety. As he ran from the flaming building with the tape recording of the interview, he wondered whether he should continue with the Bloody Interviews. He decided yes, because he still wanted to ask Ishmael about his haircut...]