Interview With An Imposter

                                                

Writer Lady sits in the Big Writing Chair utterly and thoroughly blocked. She keeps perusing the Internet looking for something that will lead her to something else that will get those creative juices flowing. Waiting for inspiration to strike. Dobby stays away not sure if when inspiration strikes it is anything like lightning. Writer Lady sits, reads, looks at the ceiling, the walls, the floor, thinks about vacuuming-- decides not to, eats an orange and is still blocked.

“Mom!” Dobby calls sitting in the doorway which is a safe distance from Writer Lady, just in case.

“Yes kitty?”

“Are you still blocked?” Dobby asks.

Writer Lady sighs deeply and nods.

“You know if you had eaten those funky brown sticky things you would probably be okay by now.” Dobby reminds her.

“Those are prunes and that is a different kind of blockage entirely.”

“A different kind of blockage?” Dobby asks.

“Entirely.”

“It's your mind that's going isn't it?” Dobby asks.

Writer Lady turns to Dobby and frowns. “No, in this case blocked means I am creatively blocked.”

“Oh...” Dobby goes to his catnip box, rolls it over with his nose and dumps it. The box is empty.

“What are you doing?” Writer Lady asks.

“I was going to share.”

“Dobby, catnip doesn't do for me what it does for you.”

“Have you ever had any?” Dobby asks.

“No.”

“Then how do you know?”

“I don't. That doesn't matter the box is empty. I just have to relax a little bit and then I'll think of something.”

Dobby leaves High Command and returns with the container of prunes.

“Dobby what are you doing?”

“Why don't we smash some of these on your head?”

Writer Lady glares.

“If you've never done it you don't know that it won't work Mom.” Dobby says.

Writer Lady continues sitting at her computer with prunes smashed into her hair.

“Is it helping?”

“No. My head is wet, sticky and I feel ridiculous.”

“You smell better?” Dobby offers. “Just keep brainstorming. You've got this.”

“I hope so kitty. I hope so.”

Stopping in the doorway of High Command, Dobby turns back to Writer Lady, “You know what you need Mom?”

“No what?”

“To interview somebody. You know just for this week. Since you're blocked.” Dobby says.

“Interviews take time. Research. Background information. Questions have to be formulated. Questions the person being interviewed hasn't been asked hundreds of times before. Most importantly you have to find a willing victim...um...participant.”

“What if your subject had never been interviewed before?”

“I don't know kitty.”

“You see him every day. So you have background information.” Dobby offers.

Writer Lady tenses a little, not sure where this is going.

“What if you interviewed Incognito?”

“Incognito?”

Dobby walks over to the three foot action figure and stands up, putting his front leg around Incognito's shoulder.

“I don't think that will work kitty.” Writer Lady puts her hand to her mouth and whispers. “He's an action figure. He doesn't really talk.”

“He doesn't talk but you just shielded your mouth from him and whispered so he couldn't hear you?”

“Yes?”

“That doesn't make sense Mom. Even for you.”

“Besides if he doesn't talk how did Tinkletoes know his name?”

“Tinkletoes made up the name. He just said Incognito told him his name so I would accept it and stop freaking out about him not having one.”

“Just a month ago he was on stage with me playing a trumpet.” Dobby points out.

“TP. Faerie magic. Duh.”

“Mom. Just try it.” Dobby says dropping to all four paws and making his way into High Command's closet; leaving Writer Lady alone to study Incognito.

Inside the darkened closet, Tinkletoes and TP are already hiding. They have a view of Writer Lady and High Command from a small monitor screen. TP is wearing a headset. The faerie is covering the mouthpiece with his hand.

“I'm telling you guys, Mom is too smart. She is not going to fall for this.” Dobby says.

“She is tense and sleepy already, she is totally going to fall for this.” Tinkletoes counters. TP nods in agreement. “You're not trying to back out of our bet now are you? You do have the support of the Faerie council Dobby. They even took away TP's powers for this prank. The only way to win this bet is if your mom falls for it.”

The three watch as Writer Lady sits and studies Incognito.

“She not only has to interview Incognito. She has to believe it enough to put it in the blog and post it to the Internet. The odds are stacked against TP and me. We haven't backed out.” Tinkletoes says.

Writer Lady turns around in her chair to face Incognito.

“Okay, she's going to make a move. Here we go guys.”
 

“Hi. Incognito.” Writer Lady says. “Could I...would you be willing...may I interview you?” she asks.

“Yes.” The clone warrior says.

“Would you like to sit down?” Writer Lady asks.

“No.” Incognito says.

“Okay. Well I'm just going to pick you up and move you over to where I can see you better.” Writer Lady says picking up Incognito and placing him near the desk. “There. That's better.”

“I know your name is Incognito and you came to live in High Command on Christmas Day but where are you from...originally?”

“I am from France.” Incognito answers in an even robotic voice.

Writer Lady shifts her eyes from the monitor back to her subject. That phrase is familiar. “I'm not sure that's right.”

“I am an alien. I am from France.” Incognito repeats.

Writer Lady checks her research. “Clone troopers were created on a planet called 'Kamino.'”

“I am from France.”

Meanwhile, in the closet. “What are you doing? Why are you talking like that?” Tinkletoes asks TP.

“TP has been studying humans much. This is more natural for her. She understands.”

“She will understand very soon that this is a load of crap. Stop it!” Tinkletoes says.

Thinking for a moment, Writer Lady asks, “Where is this France? Where is your homeland?”

“Canada. My France is in Canada.” Incognito answers.

“Where is France? What part of Canada?”

“The part that speaks French.” Incognito responds robotically.

“What is the name of the city you are from?”

“Troy!” Incognito exclaims.

“There is no Troy in Canada.” Writer Lady says. Something is off about this interview.

“I am from Troy! I look just like Brad Pitt.” Incognito says. “In Troy. Brad Pitt in Troy.”

“That sounds like an old pick up line.”

“Want to kiss me?” Incognito asks.

“No I don't. There is something off about you Incognito. Besides, Brad Pitt's not my type.”

“He isn't. You don't have a type. But in Troy Brad Pitt was yummy. You said so.”

“No I didn't.” Writer Lady argues.

“Yes you did.”

“No I didn't.”

“On Sunday, March 2^nd at 2 p.m. you said, “Watching Troy? Brad Pitt isn't my type but in that movie...he sure looks yummy.”

“Troy? What is really going on here?” Writer Lady asks.

“Nothing.”

“Really.”

“Then where are you from?”

“I am from France. Incognito, the happy clone, I come from France.”

“Incognito, the happy clone?” Writer Lady repeats studying her surroundings. Looking at the ceiling fan above her head she sees it, a small camera nestled near the blades. Next she sees a fine black wire running from the ceiling fan, along the ceiling and into the closet.

“I am from France. Want to see my underpants?”

Writer Lady rises from her chair and heads for the closet.

As she crosses the room she hears a desperate plea coming from the clone warrior, “Want to see my underpants? They are blue! One of your favorite colors.”

Writer Lady opens the door of the closet to find Tinkletoes and TP huddled together watching a small screen. Both pale at the expression on her face.

“I won! Thanks for playing guys. It looks like you two are going to be kind of busy, we can settle up later.” Dobby jumps down from his perch on a shelf and leaves the room basking in the glow of not being the one who is in trouble this time.