13. "Auxiliary Document 1"
The following audio transcript is from a video of unknown origin. The video is near-exclusively audio with a still constant caption reading "Nottingham mayor John Norman calls me" appearing to have been rendered in Windows MovieMaker. The original title of the video, its original upload date, and the identity of the uploader are unknown, although it is widely believed that the uploader is also the unidentified male voice in the video. Given clues in the audio to the date of its recording, the video may have been one of the first videos uploaded to YouTube; URLs supposedly leading to the video and the uploader's channel state that the video has been deleted and the account associated with the video has been terminated. It has since resurfaced on LiveLeak in 2011 and DailyMotion in 2013, with the DailyMotion uploader clarifying in the post's lengthy title that they were not the original creator of the video, nor did they have any connection to or knowledge of that individual.
(click)
MALE VOICE: Hello?
NOTTINGHAM MAYOR JOHN NORMAN: Do you have the results yet?
MV: ...Huh?
JN: The DNA test! Are the results in yet?
MV: Hey, man, I think you've got the wrong number.
JN: Ha! Very funny.
MV: I mean, I don't know you.
JN: Excuse me, sir, but I expect an employee of mine to understand that this is no time for levity.
MV: Hey, all I know is I'm hearing a British accent, and I'd better not be getting charged for a long-distance call for answering this.
JN: Must I repeat myself? I'm in no mood for joking about.
MV: You still haven't told me who you are.
JN: You don't recognize the voice of your own mayor?
MV: I'm pretty sure my town's mayor isn't British.
JN: What a card you are.
MV: And I think it's a chick.
JN: Well if you want to live and work in the City of Nottingham, you'd best familiarize yourself to the sound of my voice.
MV: I don't want to live and work in the City of Nottingham.
JN: Then how unfortunate it must be for you that you already do live and work here.
MV: I don't.
JN: Well you won't be keeping your job for very long if you don't drop this banal ruse and answer my questions.
MV: I'm not fucking with you, buddy, I really think you have the wrong number.
JN: Pardon your French. Did you find any forensic leads from the pig mask?
(silence)
JN: Hello!?
MV: What?
JN: Did you hear me?
MV: No, I took the phone away from my ear for a sec' to check that you had an American phone number.
JN: Would it matter if I called you while I was visiting back home?
MV: I mean, I don't pay the phone bill here, so I really don't want to piss someone else off if I get us charged for a call from England.
JN: Of course you don't pay the phone bill, WE pay your phone bill!
MV: Pretty sure you don't.
JN: You've examined the pig mask, yes?
MV: No.
JN: Well I've waited all weekend for you idiots to come in to the labs and you don't even get around to your most urgent task? It's lunchtime already! What have you been spending your morning even doing!?
MV: I actually just woke up, like, twenty minutes before you called.
JN: Oh, so you decide to take a half-day when you have a task of the utmost importance at hand?
MV: Well it's summer, so-
JN: So you think you can just laze around!
MV: Basically, yeah. That's the point.
JN: Well whenever you feel like doing your job, get to analyzing the mask.
MV: What mask?
JN: The pig mask!
MV: Uh, okay.
JN: And I will tell you right now that you're looking to confirm or refute that there is fox hair on it.
MV: Why fox hair?
JN: Because I have a very strong feeling that this criminal is a fox.
MV: And why exactly is that?
JN: Because although different eyewitnesses have claimed seeing different species, the most common claim is that the suspect is a fox. Claims of a coyote with a poofy tail come in a distant second.
MV: Oh. There's actually eyewitnesses?
JN: Including myself. Several times. I believe he is a fox.
MV: Alright, I thought you were just guessing that some dude robbed some place and it must have been a fox because of course it would've been a sneaky fox. Like, from the way you were talking, it sounded like someone left a mask behind at the scene of a burglary and nobody saw him but you were assuming it was a fox. I was gonna say, if you think that way about foxes, you might as well hang up right now.
JN: Are you a fox?
MV: Guilty as charged.
JN: I didn't know there were any foxes working in the forensics department.
MV: Neither did I.
JN: Oh, you amuse me.
MV: If you have this many eyewitnesses, why do you even need to prove it's a fox then?
JN: Because to instill trust in the people of this city, I need to be right about everything.
MV: Fair enough, I guess. You don't have any other details to go on? What kind of fox are you looking for? We ain't all the same.
JN: A red one, to start.
MV: Alright, then he ain't one of my people.
JN: Who are your people?
MV: I'm an Arctic.
JN: Interesting. I don't run into too many Arctic foxes in my city.
MV: I don't live in your city.
JN: Poppycock.
MV: So how is confirming that it's a red fox going to narrow it down?
JN: You do your job and see if there's a DNA match with anybody in our system! Or fingerprints, I don't care!
MV: In the meantime, you have no other details to go off of?
JN: Certainly we do. He's described as being exceptionally tall for his species.
MV: How tall we talking?
JN: Witness reports vary widely from four feet to five-and-a-half feet. Likely somewhere in the middle of that range.
MV: Jesus Christ, that's tall for a fox.
JN: Precisely why some people think he's a strange-looking coyote.
MV: I can imagine.
JN: He's also been heard to have a British accent.
MV: He's British too?
JN: I've heard him speak myself.
MV: So you're having trouble locating a five-foot fox with a British accent? I mean, I don't want to sell my people out, but that guy seems like he'd stick out pretty well.
JN: And I would be wont to agree, but he's successfully eluded capture for seven years, so-
MV: Seven years!?
JN: Have you even read the dossier? This is why we need to turn to forensics to get any clues we can. On the topic, don't be shy to tell me if you find DNA from any other species. Perhaps we can sniff out one of his co-conspirators. His right-hand man is often reported as a brown or grizzly bear.
MV: That makes sense.
JN: Why does that make sense? Do you know something I should know?
MV: "A fox and a bear make a great pair." That's the old saying.
JN: Is it now?
MV: You've never heard that before?
JN: Never in my life. Why do they say a fox and a bear make a great pair? Maybe this can give us a clue as to their dynamics.
MV: I mean, it's just, you know, one brains, one brawn.
JN: Is that it? Because I can think of many pairs of species that could fit that archetype.
MV: Yeah, but it's like, uh, brains from a species that - in their culture - doesn't value brawn, and brawn from a species that culturally doesn't value brains. So they're playing toward their strengths without any fighting over who's the smart one and who's the strong one. Operating as a unit and not worrying about who gets to be the better one. That's the logic behind it, I think.
JN: Fascinating. Now, I do understand that logic, but I still could see several different species filling those two roles.
MV: Plus, you know, "bear" and "pair" rhyme and "fox" just… fits the cadence of the saying well, I guess.
JN: Naturally.
MV: But you're kind of not supposed to say that saying anymore.
JN: And yet you just did.
MV: Because, you know, in its purest form, it's stereotyping. I mean, foxes are cool with it, we'll take "clever" as a compliment eight days a week, but other species think it's bogus to bears to assume they're cool with being the stupid ones.
JN: So there may be a power struggle between the fox and the bear after all?
MV: Well, you know, bears could take it or leave it, because for one reason or another they keep hanging out with us. Like, Tim, he's my boy, we're tight like no one else. He's a black bear. He thinks it's bullshit that people assume his species' culture is, like, brutish and militantly anti-intellectual, but he doesn't actually think the "fox and a bear" saying is actively racist, just kind of, like, ignorant in a roundabout way. Well-meaning, because foxes and bears do make good bros and we appreciate each other, but ignorant.
JN: I'm going to remember this in case I have to use it against them.
MV: Plus I know bunnies don't like that phrase because it reminds them of a fox and a bear who stalked this rabbit and tried to eat him back in, like, 1870s Georgia or something. Like, the Reconstruction South.
JN: Duly noted. So how quickly can you check the mask for DNA?
MV: I don't have the fucking mask, dickhead.
JN: Then GET the bloody mask, dickhead! Get it and check for a DNA match!
MV: Match to who?
JN: Anybody!
MV: So you said you've been looking for seven years for these guys?
JN: Roughly, yes. Please don't remind me.
MV: Seven years and you don't have any clue to who they are.
JN: Please… don't remind me.
MV: Nobody's overheard them call each other by name?
JN: (unintelligible)
MV: Huh?
JN: There was… the boy.
MV: What boy?
JN: The boy from the scene where the pig mask was found!
MV: I am not familiar with this boy.
JN: Then read the bloody dossier!
MV: So what about this boy?
JN: He's been… he's been trying to tell us. He was able to get enough out to tell us the culprits were in the woods, but beyond that, we haven't been able to understand a word he's said. He's just babbling and pointing and gesticulating. It's frustrating because I've asked the investigators to simply ask if he heard their names, and they say he perked up and seemed to try to make an attempt at answering but all he could articulate were muttering noises. They say the lad is so shaken that he can't even keep his mouth closed.
MV: Damn, that's a bummer.
JN: We're so close to a breakthrough and yet those monsters have rendered the only eyewitness mute.
MV: What exactly did they do?
JN: It's in the dossier.
MV: Then send me another copy of it because evi-fucking-dently I lost mine.
JN: Fine, I will.
MV: ...Really?
JN: If I must.
(silence)
MV: So… are we good here?
JN: (unintelligible)
MV: What?
JN: I'm just thinking that… if it makes it easier for you… I might have a name to guess.
MV: To guess for what?
JN: The identity of the outlaw.
MV: We're calling him an outlaw now? Is this the Wild West?
JN: No, come to think of it, I mustn't interfere with your processes.
MV: Well, did you have a suspect in mind?
JN: Yes, but as I mentioned earlier, it's imperative that my people trust me, so I must be right about everything. I don't yet feel confident on gambling that my guess is correct. And yet I feel so strongly that it is. But I'm trying to be a man of science about it and disregard my blind guesses. Your end of the bargain is to hurry up and identify the outlaw to prove my hypothesis.
MV: What's your hypothesis?
JN: I mustn't be sharing such rumors with employees of the City of Nottingham.
MV: I'm not an employee of the City of Nottingham.
JN: Oh, you. (silence) … He may be… somebody with whom I have a history, and yet whom I've never met.
MV: How can you have a history with him if you've never met him?
JN: Well, of course I've met him now during our close encounters, but we've never been… formally introduced, as it were.
(silence)
MV: Don't leave me hanging here, man.
JN: It may be my… brother's… goddaughter's… male friend.
MV: ...Really, now?
JN: Again, I'd never met him, I had never had any interest in doing so. But they're both described as tall English foxes.
MV: I can see how that narrows it down. But does this guy seem like he'd be the kind to moonlight as a criminal?
JN: As I said, I'd never met him formally.
MV: Well if he's been fucking around in Nottingham for seven years, he must live close by. Go knock on his door, pay him a visit.
JN: He lives in Sherwood Forest.
MV: ...Did your brother's goddaughter hook up with a homeless guy?
JN: He went missing seven years ago.
MV: ...What?
JN: My brother's goddaughter's boyfriend went missing seven years ago. It lines up perfectly with when the outlaws started to wreak havoc out of Sherwood Forest. Hence my hypothesis.
MV: ...Oh, shit. That's a lot of reasons for your hypothesis.
JN: But he went missing in the District of Columbia.
MV: That's not that far away. I mean, I don't want to sell out my kind, but if this guy's a real criminal, I think you've got your man. What's this guy's crime again?
JN: Being a thorn in my side more than anything.
MV: What do you mean?
(silence)
MV: Hello?
JN: You know what? Thank you, sir.
MV: For what?
JN: You've helped me make up my mind. I think… I think I now feel confident in saying the outlaw is my nephew-in-law.
MV: I thought you said he was your brother's goddaughter's boyfriend?
(silence)
JN: Oh, to hell with it! I'll say it! I've known for years! And I've been afraid to confront the fact that this criminal mastermind… that he wasn't just a stranger. I've been terrified to let people discover that the greatest threat to our city is a mere two degrees of separation from myself. And now… now you're the first person I'm telling this to. I haven't even told my trusted assistant, for fear that he would lose his admiration of me. You've given me courage, good sir, and for that I wish to thank you.
MV: Well, um… I am honored, but immensely confused. Profoundly confused, even.
JN: Four years ago when my niece was in town for the summer, I even tried to use her as bait to draw the bandits out, but I'm afraid that may have just emboldened them.
MV: If you know who the son of a bitch is, why don't you just tell the police?
JN: Because I didn't want my people knowing that I'm related to an outlaw!
MV: How would they know? You're not even a fox, are you?
JN: No, sir, I am a lion.
MV: (muttering) Yeah, you're a big pussy alright.
JN: I beg your pardon?
MV: So how would people know?
JN: In my paranoia… I simply always thought word would make its way around.
MV: They could have found out even if you didn't up and tell them.
JN: I'm realizing that now.
MV: Even if they did know, who cares? You're not responsible for the actions of your… um… whoever he was to you.
JN: I'm realizing that now. You must understand how clouded my judgment has been these last seven years. Seven years of them trying to kill you would make anyone paranoid-
MV: Wait, they've been trying to ASSASSINATE you?
JN: ...More or less.
MV: Man, the way you were talking, I thought they were just serial burglars or something!
JN: Which is why I want to thank you for giving me the courage to make his identity public. But not quite yet. I first need your team and your forensics to prove me right.
MV: You know I can't do that.
JN: Find a way to make it happen anyway. Again, I cannot afford to be wrong where others can see me. It wouldn't inspire their confidence in me.
MV: I mean, why are you so hung up on his name at this point? Haven't you put up wanted posters and stuff that just say "we don't know who this guy is but he's a menace to society"?
JN: We have not.
MV: Why not?
JN: Because I would find it so deeply publicly mortifying if the entire world saw that there was a band of criminals that were trying to oust me, and yet I and all my men were powerless to stop them for nearly a decade.
MV: And you let that get in the way of taking logical steps toward bringing these guys to justice?
JN: You still misunderstand how much this torments my addled mind! It's psychological torture what they do to me! They've ransacked my home numerous times, they've ransacked my office numerous times, and on a few occasions they've even left me notes mocking me, notes that I can't show my police because they have the bandits' names on them, they've-
MV: (distorted from loud volume) YOU HAVE NOTES WITH THEIR NAMES ON THEM AND YOU DIDN'T EVEN TELL THE COPS WHO WORK FOR YOU!?
JN: And in the notes, they even say things along the lines of, "We know you will not tell even your closest confidantes our names because you don't want them to know you're related to a criminal; Marian always did say that you were so terribly worried about your image."
MV: Marian?
JN: And they were right. They mocked me for being too paranoid to tell anybody who they were, and that made me too paranoid to tell anybody who they were. Yet the most frustrating part is that they seem to think I'm worried of others' opinions of me, when in reality what I fear is my own opinion of me.
MV: Who's Marian again?
JN: My niece. Brother's goddaughter. It's easier to simply call her my niece.
MV: Oh, they're the same person. Okay, so… you've gotten notes from them signed with their actual, honest to God names on them, and you withheld that from the police working to catch them?
JN: I'm not proud that their psychological tricks worked on me, but they did.
MV: ...You fucking maniac.
JN: In my defense, they haven't left notes recently! It's been years! If I had decided several years ago to start showing their newest notes to my police, I wouldn't have any notes to show them.
MV: You absolute fucking maniac.
JN: Oh, I may as well let it all out! There were times where I could have sworn I'd heard people say their names aloud. Either they themselves or the townspeople who adore them. But I always-
MV: Why do the townspeople adore them?
JN: Some fancy them as vigilantes. I prefer to call them domestic terrorists.
MV: Got it. Continue about how you once a-fucking-gain got hard evidence of their identities and did absolutely nothing with it?
JN: But it was no hard evidence! Voices in a crowd! Noises amid a cacophony of shouts and hollers from a maddening mass! My men and women heard something resembling names, but could never make it out clearly. I only was able to piece together the names from the distorted sounds because I knew the names to listen for. And I couldn't just tell them myself because I was... I was-
MV: Too broken to live?
JN: ...I know my critics would say that. But they could never understand how… opaque my judgment was in those trying times, and neither can you.
MV: You absolute fucking maniac. Are you even fit to lead?
JN: I'll have you know that while we haven't yet quashed the rebellion, we also haven't yet succumbed to it! Indeed, we have been holding our own for years now. But I cannot let this war of attrition go on much longer. I need to break this stalemate. When one is unsatisfied with the way things are, one must make a change. I plan to do that now. I will tell my assistant and my highest-ranking police the identities of the criminals, and I want to thank you for giving me that courage, a courage for which I've been searching for so, so long. But you can make it easier on me by confirming their identities with a DNA match from the abandoned pig mask.
(silence)
JN: Or a pawprint match. I am not picky.
(silence)
JN: Are you still there?
MV: Yeah, I'm just… speechless.
JN: I thank you for everything. I will thank you again when you finish analyzing the mask. Even if you can just confirm the species, that would be a great step forward.
MV: These guys' names've been shouted in the fucking streets multiple times and not a single member of your police force heard them clearly once?
JN: When the bandits show up, things get loud! Can you really hear everything all the time perfectly?
MV: Yes.
JN: ...Well, you are a fox, so you lot are known for having absurdly good hearing-
MV: My dad was right, people in the city are retarded.
JN: What kind of crass language is that to use toward your mayor!?
MV: How do you know that they - your cops - that they don't all know their names and they're just waiting to see how long it takes you to put the pieces together because they think it's hilarious that you're such a raging dumbass?
JN: Because I-! Er…
MV: …Because you what?
(silence)
MV: Oh, this ought to be good.
(silence)
MV: Whenever you want to speak, honey, I'm listening.
JN: ...Because I…
MV: Yes, baby?
JN: ...What if my officers know… but they haven't formally recorded it… because they know… that then… they would have to search for them in earnest?
MV: ...Come again?
JN: What if they're afraid of confronting them? What if my men are cowards?
MV: ...Not where I was going with this, but an interesting thought all the same.
JN: Goddamn you!
MV: Oh, what did I do now?
JN: You give me confidence, and then you take it away.
MV: Oh boy.
JN: You've ruined me! Disregard the outlaws, it is YOU who is psychologically torturing me!
MV: I've done nothing of the sort, dick-heart.
JN: Tell me: would you think I'm less of a fool if I told you that it's also been years since I've heard their names shouted in the streets!? Perhaps they've gotten more careful! Perhaps this was all a plan to trick us into thinking they never actually existed! They're trying to induce amnesia!
MV: So in other words, they're getting smarter while you're getting dumber.
JN: Why do you say such things!? Don't you want this city to be safe from bandits?
MV: I don't know at this point, they kind of seem like badasses. Maybe I want them to win. It might make a better story.
JN: You- My own forensics department is betraying me!? WAIT! What if this goes all the way down?
MV: Down to where?
JN: What if my police are on the side of the outlaws!? (distorted) AND THAT'S WHY WE HAVEN'T CAPTURED THEM IN SEVEN BLOODY YEARS!?
MV: You are damaging your phone.
JN: (distorted) THAT'S WHY THEY'VE NEVER KILLED ONE OF MY MEN!
MV: Wow, you may genuinely be one of the most paranoid people I've ever met.
JN: I don't care about how you feel about me! I only answer to myself!
MV: Then why is it so fucking imperative that you don't make mistakes that the people of Nottingham can see?
JN: Because I don't want to be someone who makes mistakes in public!
MV: It sounds like you care a lot about what others think of you-
JN: A lion does not concern himself with the opinions of sheep! Or foxes!
MV: -but you've convinced yourself you haven't because you're seeing their opinions of you through, like, the lens of how you… want to see yourself? How you actually see yourself? I'm not totally sure where I'm going with this, but there's like a… dichotomy going on here.
JN: You're no psychologist! You're merely a forensicist! Who are you to make such statements!?
MV: I want to see you go to a psych doctor. It's like, you don't care that the people trust you, but you care very deeply that you feel that you are trusted by them. There's gotta be some depth to mine there.
JN: I'll have you arrested for questioning my competency!
MV: So now you trust your cops again?
JN: I changed my mind! I don't think they're actually siding with the outlaws. I think. My paranoia had just run rampant.
MV: Hot freaking dog, you are a fascinating fellow. I'm so glad I recorded this.
JN: I beg your pardon?
MV: Yeah, I'm recording this.
JN: Why on earth are you recording our conversation?
MV: I always record calls from numbers I don't recognize. You never know where they're gonna go.
JN: I don't recall giving you permission to record our conversation!
MV: I thought you didn't care what I thought of you? Why does it matter?
(silence)
MV: Are we done here?
JN: I'll have you arrested for this.
MV: What?
JN: You illegally recorded this conversation without my permission! I'll have you arrested for this!
MV: No you won't.
JN: Yes I will!
MV: No. You won't. I've looked it up, it's not even illegal in Delaware.
JN: What's your name, forensicist?
(silence)
JN: WHAT IS YOUR BLOODY NAME!?
MV: ...Justin Timberlake.
JN: And where is your place of residence, Mr. Timberlake?
MV: Uh… 69… Back Street. 69 Back Street.
JN: And what part of town is that in, Justin? So we may more easily find you.
MV: For the sixty-millionth time, I don't live in the city, you enormous fucking retard! I live in Delmar! (under breath) Wait, shit, Justin Timberlake isn't even from the Backstreet Boys, is he?
JN: Then I-I-I'll come to Delmar and have you arrested! No journey is too far in the pursuit of justice!
MV: Well I have a copy of this recording and you don't, so you don't have any evidence to show a judge. Plus, you can't arrest me because I don't live in your city, so you'd have to take it to the county or the state. For something that isn't even illegal in this county or state.
JN: Did you not hear the news!? The city police IS the county police now!
MV: ...Wait, really?
JN: Yes! So the Nottingham County Police can-
MV: When did this happen?
JN: Yesterday!
MV: How was that possible?
JN: My assistant looked over the books; it was never explicitly disallowed, so we did it.
MV: Well if nothing else, I can just leave the county then.
JN: What? You're going to abandon your home forever to evade capture? Just like the outlaws in Sherwood Forest did!?
MV: I don't have to leave home forever; my house is literally across the street from Maryland. I can just jump across whenever I need to. Now if I lived across the street, then over there it would've been illegal for me to record you without your express permission.
JN: Then we'll just-
MV: Actually, I'm looking out the window and I see the mailman across the street right now. Hold on, let me open the window.
JN: Wait, are you-?
MV: Hi, Mr. Mailman!
MR. MAILMAN: (distant) Hello!
MV: Hey, Mr. Mailman, what state are you in right now?
MR. MAILMAN: (distant, unintelligible)
MV: Did you hear that? He says he works in Maryland.
JN: Are you… not actually in the lab right now?
MV: Naw, man, I'm at home.
JN: Is this a… is this your mobile phone number?
MV: I mean, it's a cordless phone, but no, it's a landline.
FEMALE VOICE: (distant, unintelligible)
MV: Hold on, my mom heard me screaming and now she's probably going to want me to get off the phone.
JN: Your mother?
MV: The very same. But hey, it's been good talking to ya.
JN: Wait, I'm… lost-
FV: (distant) Who are you talking to?
MV: The mayor of Nottingham.
FV: What?
MV: The mayor of Nottingham called the wrong number and he thinks I'm his forensics guy.
FV: No fucking way.
MV: Talk to him yourself. (growing distant) By the way, I'm recording this, so don't delete anything from the answering machine.
FV: (full volume) Hello?
JN: ...Er… hello…
FV: Jesus Christ, this really is John Norman.
JN: Yes, er… to whom am I speaking?
FV: You called us! Why have you been harassing my son?
JN: Yes, yes, dreadfully, er, dreadfully sorry, I had told my assistant to call the forensics laboratory.
FV: How do you get that number mixed up with anything else?
JN: It must have been a slip of the toe when he was dialing-
FV: His TOE?
JN: Yes, my assistant is a double amputee. He misdialed. It happens every so often.
FV: You chose a cripple for your assistant?
JN: What else is he supposed to be doing for a living?
FV: Evidently something else if he can't even dial a phone right! Don't you have your forensics team on speed-dial or something!?
JN: Well, another reason that I hired him was that we both don't care for such technology.
(silence)
JN: ...Are you still there?
FV: Get a phone from the twenty-first century. Don't ever call here again.
JN: Are you aware that your son recorded me without my permission, and proceeded to psychologically torture me for his own mad amusement?
FV: You harassed a seventeen-year-old without HIS permission. Now get bent.
JN: I'll have him arrested! I know you live on the state line in Delmar! This narrows it down for us to find-!
(click)