one;
the interview


"How long have you been homeless?"
When Fox asks this question it's almost like he's not paying attention.
Scribbling away at the papers on his desk. His penmanship is very neat and dextrous.

The way the point dances loops together into words like a professional ballerina might hop from toe to toe.
Effortlessly, and with grace.


1


Wolf bites his lip in apprehension, unsure of the answer.
"Wh-what year is it?"

Fox's scribbling pen stops abruptly and his ears perk up. His head follows his eyes up to Wolf's gaze and his eyebrows raise.
"Excuse me?"

"What uh. What year is it?"

"9597,"
Fox says, concerned.

Wolf is counting on his fingers.
"I guess I luh-lost my right arm when you shot me down during the Lylat Wars in 9590. Suh-seven y-years."

Fox looks at him sympathetically.
"Wolf, I-"

"Nuh-no, Fox,"
Wolf says, shaking his head.
"I was fuh-fighting for the wrong suh-side. I c-can't blame you for for doing your job as a m-m-muh-mercenary."

"Still, though," Fox sighs. "I feel guilty."

"Duh-don'-"

"I mean, I pitied you when I saw you out there on the street, which is why I invited you in for some coffee, but. Hhh. I tell you what. Come work for me."

"Wuh-wuh-what? You d-don't have to duh- do th-"

"I insist. This isn't just a guilt thing either, Wolf. This company prides itself in its philanthropy. Think of it less as a gesture of pity or guilt and more of an investment in your potential."

"Guh-gosh, Fox, I don't know. I w-wouldn't want to luh-let you duh-down..."
Wolf's gaze casts like a fishing line with a pro at the handle.

Fox reaches stands and leans over, reaching across the desk and gently taking Wolf's chin into his firm grasp.
Guiding Wolf's gaze back up to his, he smiles benevolently with his eyes closed.
"I won't take no for an answer."

Tears form in the corner of Wolf's eye and he tries to distract himself before getting too visibly emotional.
He stands up and vigorously shakes Fox's hand, blinking away drops of salty emotion.

"I wuh-won't let you down, Fuh-Fox!"

"I know you won't."
Fox says, his smile fading as he sits back down and finishes what he was writing.

A moment of uncomfortable silence passes before he speaks again.
"How does fifty thousand credits sound? For your first course. Including per diem."

"Fuh-fuh-fifty thousand credits?! I c-could get a place!"

"Wonderful. Until then we'll set you up with lodgings, and of course, the per diem."

"Puh-puh-per d-"

"Daily allowance. Tell me. Are you currently addicted to any drugs of any sort?"
Fox begins scribbling something else in lieu of waiting for an answer.

Wolf grows silent.
His mouth dries out. His tongue rough and absorbing moisture like a towel or a rag stuffed into his mouth.
Eye sockets are like sandpaper against his bloodshot eyeballs.
Trying to lick his lips but his tongue sticks to his teeth and the roof of his mouth.
Internally kicking himself for fucking this up before the opportunity even prevented itself...

"It's okay, Wolf,"
Fox says.
"You can be honest. I promise, we're just trying to take care of you."

Wolf can't meet his eyes.
"Yes," he whispers hoarsely.

"That's okay, Wolf. It's not going to effect your standing with this company. What drugs are you currently addicted to?"

"Huh-hhh-horse,"
he says, hugging his torso with his arms and trembling softly.

"Wolf on the Horse,"
Fox murmurs to himself thoughtfully.
"How fascinating."

"H-h-huh?"

"Nothing,"
Fox says, smiling.
"If it's not going to be a problem to quit, we'll help you with that, too. Then you'll be the Wolf on the Wagon!"
He laughs briefly at his own amusing turns of phrase.

"Shh-shhh-shhh-sure, Fuh-Fox. I duh-don't want to luh-let you down,"
Wolf says, apologetically.

"You won't,"
Fox says flatly, and without emotion.

Wolf can't take it anymore.
He burst into tears, choking on a sob.
His breath labored as he whimpers and whines, trying to collect himself.

Fox blinks and cocks his head at him.
"Wolf... are you okay?"

Eagerly, the lupine nods, his ears pinned back in shame.
He sniffles a couple times regains his composure.
"Yuh-yes Fox. It's just. It's just,"
an almost bitter and sad laugh escapes him,
"I didn't think I had any fuh-friends in the world."
His voice begins to break again,
"a-and it may sound d-duh-duh-stupid but,"
he swallows,
"I muh-may nuh-not be your fuh-friend but you shhh-shhhh-shhhh-sure fuh-fuh-feel like mmmmmmmine!"
He sniffles again and wipes away tears with the dirty coat sleeve dangling from his arm stump. Letting out a few more shaky sobs as he drops his head over his chest and tries to control his labored breathing.

Wolf almost yelps when he feels the warm and sudden clap of Fox's hand on his back, patting him softly before rubbing his hand up and down comfortingly.
"It's okay, pup,"
Fox whispers, almost cooing in his ear,
"you're my friend. I promise."

Wolf lets out a laugh of relief, barely registering or reflecting on the irony of this vulpine several years his junior calling him a pup.
Part of him would have to admit, though, if you pried it out of him, that he'd find the gesture comforting. Almost motherly, as if he was being cared for.
And he was. For the first time in his whole empty life he felt like he was truly being cared for. Like there was really someone there who loved him, and would look after him.

His crying dies down under the soothing kindness of this vulpine's touch.
Calming into steady, ragged breaths.

"Thuh-thank you Fuh-Fox,"
the lupine says quietly.
"I d-duh-don't know how I'll ever repuh-pay you."

"There, there,"
the vulpine says, comforting, calm,
"I'll take care of you, Wolf. You don't have to worry about any of that."

Wolf O'Donnell leans into the arms of his once arch-enemy. Enveloped in his comforting embrace, he just sits and quietly thinks for a moment about all the great things he can do with his life moving forward.


2


The lights in the studio room make Wolf's eye hurt.
He squints behind the silhouette of his hand.

Behind him, the faint color traces of a blue screen in the bright light. He is sitting on a foldout metal chair.

"Wuh-wuh-what is all of this, Fuh-Fox?"

"This,"
Fox begins, grinning with his face,
"is all you."

"Muh-mmmm-me?"

"Of course! You're gonna be the face and voice of this planet's neglected veteran mercenaries!"

"I duh-dunno, Fuh-Fox,"
Wolf begins,
"I cuh-can't speak for anybuh-body but me. I can hhhhhh-h-h-hhhardly speak. Whuh. Whuh. Wuh. Whuh. Why wuh-would you want me?"

"Wolf,"
he says, very earnestly kneeling down next to him.
The lights in the umbrella casting a prism between them.
"I shouldn't have to say this. You should know this already. But society has beaten you down into nothing. So I gotta tell you what you should already know. You're a survivor, Wolf. You're gonna make it. You're not going to give up. You'll keep on surviving. Do you know why?"

"Nuh-no."

"Because you have for this long, have you not? One armed, on the streets of Corneria's Megacity 1. You took on the world with only one hand. With only half of one of your forearms. Even if we hadn't stepped in, you'd still be thriving eventually. Do you know why?"

"Buh-becuh-cuh-cause I'm a sssss. Ssssurvivor?"

Fox looks at him as if he would his own child, telling him something profound.
He nods visibly. Understandingly.
"Yes, Wolf. Because you. Are. A survivor."
The vulpine clasps his hand on the lupine's shoulder and it means something.

Wolf is filled with inspiration, just as Fox says he will fill others with the same thing. Inspiration.
Wolf is feeling hopeful of the future. Fox claps him on the back.

"And go!"
Fox says, stepping out of frame.

"Whuh. What do I suh-say, Fuh-Fox?"

"Tell your story!"
Fox encourages from behind a cameraman.
From behind the lights.
"Action!"


3


"You did great,"
Fox says, fishing in his wallet.
"You deserve a break,"
he's chewing on his tongue looking for something that isn't there.
The vulpine seems disappointed.
"I'm sorry, I only have three dollars on me. Go get yourself a sandwich or something, eh?"

"Thuh-this is mmmmm-mmmm-mmmore than enough, Fox, thank-thaaank you."

"I do my best, buddy. Go get yourself some food, and we'll work on setting up your accommodations, okay?"

"Bluh-bless you, Fuh-Fox."

There's a twinkle in his eye next to a sparkle hovering over his warm, tight lipped smile.
"Bless you, my friend. Hurry back, we'll set you up with a nice place to sleep, okay?"

"Oh-kuh-kay!"
Wolf had never been more excited about anything in his life.


4


"I guh-guess I was buh-born in Venom. I nuh-never muh-met my mmmmom. Muh-my duh-duh-duh-dad used tuh-tuh-tell me that I wah- that I kuh-killed her on muh-my way into this whuh. Whuh. World. B-but I don't know if that's t-true. Luh-later in luh-life he would tuh-tell me thhhhat huh-he kuh-killed her and I was luh-lucky that I wuh was aluh-live. He'd suh-say this after buh-beating me. Or duh-during. I duh-don't know what's truh-true because my dad was c-crazy. He wuh-would also tell me I'm ugly. Yuh-you're ugly, my puh-papa would say. It's tuh-too buh-bad I duh-don't even wahhhhnt to fuck you. Yuh-you took muh-my piece of ass and I duh-don't even wuhhhnt to fuh-ck you."
Wolf wipes his tears away from his face with the sleeve of his dirty jacket.

"It's okay to cry, if you need to,"
Fox says from beyond the light,
"you're in a safe space."

"Thuh-thank you, Fuh-Fox."
Wolf sniffles.
"I juh-just need a muh-minute."

"Take your time,"
Fox says,
"Take all the time you need."

A moment of silence passes, Wolf collects himself.
"Muh-my dad is the ruh-reason for my muh-missing eyebuh-ball."
Another moment of silence passes, Wolf collects himself again.
"He fuh-found a Juh-james Muh-muh-mcCloud truh-trading cuh-card. In my. Ruh. Ruh. Room."
Wolf is choking on his words, trying not to sob in front of his hero behind the light, from behind the cameras.
"He buh-beat me until I couldn't see."

Wolf breaks down.


5


Wolf waits in line for a really long time.
He asks several times on the wait.
"Cuh-can I guh-get anything here for three dollars?"
Critters will either shrug or ignore him. He thinks it is sad when people ignore him. Or maybe they didn't hear him. He tries to not feel sadness.
He tries not to feel sad about this or anything else.
When he gets to the counter, after what felt like forever, he asks what he can get for three dollars again.
"Whuh. What can I get for thruh-three dollars?"

"You can get bread with ham or you can get bread with cheese,"
the ratfaced rat at the counter stated plainly.
"But you can't get both."
He corrects himself.
"Not both sandwiches, both ingredients."
Or maybe clarify is a better word.
"Like you can only get one sandwich for three dollars. One of them is ham, the other one is cheese. Which one do you want?"

"Chuh-cheese, I guess,"
The lupine says, licking his lips.
"Juh-juh-just cheese is fine. Suh-save the animals, you know?"

The ratfaced rat rolls his eyes at that.

They don't let him eat inside because he is poor and he smells bad.
So he eats out on the curb.
While he eats he thinks about everything. Really thinks about it, you know?

"Become my luh-lover,"
he says, and then he feels bad.
But he continues despite the fact that he feels bad and despite the fact that he doesn't want to face this part of himself.
"Become my lover and kuh-kiss me on the forehead and tell me everything is gonna be okay."

He doesn't say that to anyone, but saying it in and of itself hurts him.
But that's why he said it.

Wolf cries for a minute or two, in between breaks of eating his sandwich.
And sometimes crying at the same time.

The sunset didn't capture him like it normally did.
He was lost in service of this clockwork.
Wolf ate his sandwich and cried.

Like he was.
Like he will be.

He realized he needed to get back, though he wasn't gone for long.
He made sure, though, that he'd studied this etymology.

When his line of thinking became nothing, so did his comments.
And his thoughts as well.

What wouldn't become normal?


6


"Even when Star Wolf was toguh-gether. I didn't have fuh-friends. It was starve toguh-gether at buh-best. I only made friends with my wuh-Wolfen."
His voice is constantly faltering.
"I named him James but I didn't tell anybuh-body. Didn't really tah-talk to anybody either. So it was easy. I knew I was fighting the wruh-wrong battle. But if I tried to leave they would kuh-kill me. I didn't sign up to be a mercenary. Thuh-they made me do it. Andross mmmade me do it."


7


When Wolf gets back, it's scary.
He wonders why the lights are off.
He wonders why nobody is around in the stead of everybody.

\

He says hey everybody? Can I have your aatention
and it doesn't go goodnight.
I wouldn't worry about a fucking thing if I were you.

But you looked at that thing that is yourself and yout hought about ir tight? OK.

And everything is okay maybe.
And that's maybe because it is.

When basic fundamentals begin to rend themselves asunder?
You could wonder, but.

As the infinite, you might imagine.
We could be gods of anything, everything.

/

Wolf sleeps.