CMMDR interview (continued)

HWHN caught up with the CMMDR recently at a small diner on 149^th and St. Nicholas. The interview continues.

WAITER. How is everything?

CMMDR.  (fat is dripping off his chin, his face is a lake of grease, he stares at the waiter:) Are you fucking kidding me?

HWHN. Fine, thank you.

CMMDR. Pass that salt.

HWHN. Here you go. Now, we wanted to ask a little about ARACHNOQUAKE, that film you did last November.

CMMDR. Ask away, chum.

HWHN. Was it fun?

CMMDR. Again, are you fucking kidding me?

HWHN. No, I mean, getting to be in a fun monster film on location in Baton Rouge –

CMMDR. Why don’t you just shut it. It was like being on a phlegm drip. You have no idea of the humiliation, pallie. Flat on your back freezing in cold wet mud for hours at a time pretending giant albino spiders are attacking you, eating toxic craft service cooked by a local who could have been Goebbels’s twin, trying to figure out how to keep this shit off your IMDB - why are you interviewing me anyway? Who do you work for? And Baton Rouge isn’t a town, it’s a scab.

HWHN. That actress who played your daughter was a very pretty woman.

CMMDR. I’d live in her vulva for a year.

HWHN. Wow.

CMMDR. You know, I’m done here. I mean, really, is there anything to talk about?

HWHN. Well. How’s the wife?

CMMDR. Great. (he looks at his watch.) So far today she hasn’t bought anything. Who are you, anyway? What’s your name? I’d like to remember it so that next time I take a dump I’ll know what to call the turd.

HWHN. I don’t need to sit here and take this.

CMMDR. You’re from He Who Has Nil, right? I mean, God. That’s who I get profiled by. HE WHO HAS FUCKING NIL! Hello!? HE WHO DOES NOT HAVE A FUCKING THING! That’s the publication that seeks me out. (he shouts out) Waiter! WAITER?? Can you please bring me a Glock?

To be continued