CHAPTER NINE


Krusty lit up another cigarette as the interviewer sat down in a most crowded corner of the Krusaders dressing room. All around them were cast members, male and female, loosely chatting, trying to fit into their costumes, or playing with the crossword puzzles in newspapers lying about which dated back days.

To the right of them, several of the monster outfits were still being ironed by a frantic wardrobe handler, who couldn't help but take one of Krusty's cigarettes from the packet when he wasn't looking as he tried to adjust a false eyelash in his make-up. Whenever she smoked one, tiny traces of ash would fall on the outfits. Nevertheless, she proceeded to keep ironing them anyway.

Making the most out of their predicament, the interview for Springfield's "Tinsel in Town" entertainment segment began.

"So can you tell us anything about the writing process on this show?" asked the reporter.

"Why would we start with that?" Krusty asked

"It's the first question I see sticky-taped to my sheet" the Reporter replied.

Krusty bent over and grabbed the sheet and, in spite of his illiteracy, he was able to at least scan the style of the hand writing very closely. He got up and walked over to where Sideshow Mel was situated

"What the hell is this?" said Krusty, a distinct ire in his tone, "This question's in YOUR writing"

"Krusty, please do not interrupt me when I'm practicing my grunts, I want each yell in the audio booth to reflect inner most strife and a feeling of weight as the urgency of keeping the world safe falls on my weary laurels"

"Audio recording is usually where you rest on your laurel reed-end" said Krusty, "C'mon; nobody is going into this show thinking about the script"

"This time is a bit of an exception. We have had a pinnacle break-through in quality control with this latest production of something I feel has been lacking in regards to substance. Now we can add that, and maybe later we can try style too"

"Why do you want MY opinion on a script though? I think mainly with 'Friends' logic. Sell it to me like it's 'the one where…' and I wing it the rest of the way. I can't read as you all know"

"That's just it though Krusty, this script doesn't give you any lines, just grunts, and exclamations of 'oh man', and 'no way' "

"Someone's gone out of their way to make my job easier? That never happens with a lead in a production, at least not in this town. I ought to thank the chump co-ordinating this stuff, what's his name?"

"Snake Walther I believe", he came in with our new showrunner, Bob Tzachor"

"Wow, this is a turn out Krusty, you almost never pay attention to a writer's credit on your programmes" said the reporter, "Being the inquisitive type, would you happen to tell me what that is?"

"Not exactly a trade secret in that nobody really cares about writers except the fans"

A thought occurred to Krusty which worried him slightly

"…oh no, he's not a fan boy IS he? Him OR this Tzachor guy?"

"No, he's rarely ever watched the show" said Mel, "At least according to the executives who hired him" Mel replied

"So someone completely ignorant of this show is telling us how to handle it now?"

"No so much a step down, nobody prior to them knew how to sandwich everything together either" said Mel

"So where are they? I'd love to talk shop with them" said Krusty

"What about my interview?" asked the reporter

"Turn it into a fashion piece or something" said Krusty, pointing at the cramped and poorly ironed multi-coloured outfits, "Spin gold out of that murky looking rainbow"

"I believe they're filming some documentary about what goes into creating the show, cameras should be trained on him as we speak"

"What makes them so special? We could use that budget for the show" argued Krusty

"They are the genesis, we are but the transmitter" Mel replied

"Well I'm going to elbow in on their transmission" said Krusty, "A guest appearance from this funny mug ought to boost any ratings they miraculously generate"