Interview with an emo

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It is a talkshow! In Sonicland!

"This is it," the narrator calls out from his vantage point on stage. He's shrouded by darkness - it's impossible to discern any facial features, and seated in a non-descript chair. "This is the moment you've all been waiting for; the moment that is going to change your world forever and ever. Today, I'm going to interview Shadow, whose last name is Hedgehog."

The crowd roars.

"But that's not all, no," he slowly gets out of the chair, "not in the least. I'll take you on a journey through his head, his memories, and his intentions. We'll all walk away from this a little wiser - I guarantee it." He snaps the fingers on his left hand, and a catchy tune plays for a few seconds.

A black hedgehog, no more than four-foot tall, walks in from the left of the screen. He's dressed, because that's how people like him, and looks sad for no real reason, as opposed to the bitter and twisted side he should have developed years ago.
Basically, he's a mess, and not good for anything.

"Hello, foolish creatures," Shadow mutters, baring long fangs, presumably used for vampiric acts of savage passion and manlove that, more often than not, involve preteen boys, blue hedgehogs, or bats with epic tits.
It takes him almost two minutes to inch his way across the stage and into one of two empty chairs next to the narrator.

"That," he points his right index towards a glass of water, "is not the kind of liquid I imbibe on a regular basis to preserve my vital functions and twisted sex appeal." The finger remains up, aimed for the glass like it's a deadly enemy.

The narrator doesn't seem to notice, too busy pacing in a circle around Shadow. His face is still concealed.
"Yes, I know you prefer the taste of virgins, but," he comes to a stop behind the black creature of obsidian perfection, "none of your friends qualify, and even if they did, I doubt they'd let me tap them."

"The ultimate lifeform does not appreciate sarcasm," Shadow replies after a few seconds of careful consideration. The crowd cheers, and someone performs a drumroll. "Now, why do you desire my presence?" His voice is low, like a snarl.

"Well," a graceful leap brings the narrator into his old chair. His head twists around like a machine, and his eyes fall on Shadow, "there are a couple of reasons why you're here, Shadow, the first of all being your fans," the crowd goes wild as the f-word's spoken, but quite down after a little while, at which point the narrator continues, "and other reasons include, but are not limited to; your personality, or lack of one, your dick-size, your sexual preference, your rugged manliness, and your ethnicity."

"I have no need for either of those, since I am the ultimate lifeform," Shadow comments as his arms fold across his chest. He glares out across the audience, and everything falls silent.

"Oh, but that's only what you think," the narrator snaps the fingers on his left hand once more, and the onlookers are treated to graphic pictures of Shadow engaging in all known and unknown lethal sins of the flesh, from banging preteens, to getting banged by horses, dogs, preteens, girls with strapons, plates of food, pandas with a passion for evil, and fat, roughly egg-shaped, elderly gentlemen. It ends with a nasty picture of a certain red-skinned echidna whipping Shadow's flayed back with a whip of epic proportions, while a twin-tailed wonderboy busies himself watching and enjoying the show. "And that's just a tiny amount of the things your fans love about you."

Shadow looks shaken, like his soul was ripped from his body.
"The ultimate lifeform would never submit to such sinful and barbarous acts," he reaches for the glass, "at least not while people are watching." His face twitches violently as he experiences a rerun of the images. "How can these people live with themselves?" He bursts out suddenly, and his face keeps twitching.

A silent chuckle escapes the narrator's lips, but he remains as expressionless as ever.
"Perversion is part of human nature, as is the need for release," Shadow cringes at his words. "All urges must be submitted to, regardless of how obscure or twisted, or the individual will suffer badly."

"You speak madness, but the ultimate lifeform decides to forgive you, due to your immense charisma," Shadow says, then drains the glass in two gulps.

"Yes, I get that a lot," he coughs, then gets right to it. "What do you think of your fans' view of you, as a person, fictional or otherwise?"

"The ultimate lifeform thinks that they should all stop watching anime, and base their characters on realistic people, with realistic proportions, eyes, ears, hair color, names, and personalities," he drops the glass, to prove some sort of point. It impacts with the floor, and shatters into a hundred pieces. "He also believes that it's not a good idea for virgins to write porn, or attempt to write porn, since it tends to be horrible in all ways that is physically possible." The crowd hollers, and random items are thrown on-stage.
Shadow swings his head around again, and silence is once more.

"Good answer," the narrator nods. "We'll be right back after a short break."

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VT2 - 2006