Darthjag has brought some VERY interesting information to my attention. It will make this interview interesting, to say the least...

Also, if anybody hasn't noticed, H is short for Agent HUNK. Saves time, effort, and it is kinda catchy. Just pointing that out before people start asking "Where's Agent HUNK? Who's H?" Obvious, yes. But I am just making sure.

Lets get this party started...

Agent HUNK was sitting behind his desk, his feet propped up on the corner of the desk, and a book held in his hands. "Hello, folks," H looked up from his book. "I'm still in one piece, as you can see. Other than the fact that I can't feel my torso, I'm perfectly fine now. So lets get on with our interviews, shall we?" He put the book in the desk's drawer and took out his notebook. "Lets see... Today's guest is... Father Alexander Anderson!"

Clap clap!

Two claps and a flash of light later, Father Alexander Anderson was sitting on the sofa next to the desk. "Wassis now?" Anderson looked around in confusion.

"Welcome, welcome! My name is Agent HUNK, and I'm holding a little interview for members of Hellsing and Section XIII," H explained. "Not at the same time!" he added when Anderson began to reach into his jacket.

"What do ye need mae for?" Anderson sneered.

"Um... I just said that I am interviewing you," H flipped through the notebook.

"What if I don't want ye ta intarview mae?" Anderson growled.

"There is a chance Alucard will show up," H replied, which made Anderson smiled. "I seem to have earned his hatred. Something about being such a bad writer I deserve to die..."

"Writer?" Anderson raised an eyebrow. "Ah crap, I'm in a fan fic, ain't Ae?"

"Yeaaaah," H nodded his head, "Why else would I guy in kevlar with a gas mask and helmet be asking you silly questions?"

"Maybe this is a nightmare?" Anderson shrugged.

"Ahem..." H coughed, "Shall we get started now?"

"Ae suppose so..." Anderson groaned.

"Excellent," H told him. "And that you for not stabbing me or something."

"Lets jus' get on wit' it..." Anderson waved his hands.

"What is your name?" H asked.

"Father Alexander Anderson," the priest replied.

"What is your quest?" the author inquired.

"To wipe all foul abominations and daemons from the face of the earth in the name of the Almighty God," Anderson smiled.

"Nice wording," H nodded his head and scribbled something in his notebook. "What..." H paused, "is my favorite color?"

Anderson stared at the author. A smile spread across his face. "Yellow."

H didn't say a word. "How on earth did you guess that?"

"Your goggles are reflecting the answers out of the book," Anderson smirked.

"No fair..." H growled. "But I will let it count..."

"Next question?" Anderson was in a good mood, it seemed.

"How much wood could a wood chuck chuck if a wood chuck could chuck wood?" H rattled on.

"A wood chuck could chuck as much wood as a wood chuck could chuck if a wood chuck could chuck wood," Anderson grinned.

"Wow..." H didn't expect an answer. "Uhhhh... Why do you use bayonets?"

"They can be used over and over, unlike bullets," Anderson explained.

"Good reason," H nodded. "You have very straight teeth," H pointed out, "Did you need braces?"

"No, I was naturally born with perfect teeth," Anderson smiled widely.

"Why do you ride in trains so much?" H asked.

"I get car sick..." Anderson mumbled.

"How old are you?" H asked. "I heard about 50..."

"Regenerators do not age as quickly as normal people," Anderson responded. (A/N: I made that up. Don't quote me on it.)

"You often quote Bible verses while fighting. Do you memorize them before a battle, or do you know the Word of God by heart?" H asked.

"By heart," Anderson smiled.

"I believe that..." H replied.

"Anything else?" Anderson sighed.

"I'm out of ideas..." H threw the notebook over his shoulder.

"Ae have a question fer ye, now," Anderson grinned.

"Oh?" H cocked his head to the side.

"What religeon are ye?" Anderson asked.

"Christian. Protestant, and proud of it," H stoutly replied.

"Hm..." Anderson frowned slightly, then shrugged. "If that is thae way ye want it tae be...So kin Ae go now?" Anderson stood up and stretched.

"I suppose so," H popped his neck. "This interview went pretty well."

Suddenly, the door to the room slammed open. "VAIT!!!!" a German accented voice yelled out.

"Huh?" H looked over at the door. "What is it Narbe?"

Into the room strolled a soldier in full Nazi Waffen-SS uniform. It was the soldier with the scar on his face, who had been working with Rip Van Winkle, and who had been ripped in half by Alucard. "Is that a Nazi?" Anderson looked over at H in confusion.

"Long story short, he is the only guy who made it through the job interview for being my assistant," H replied. "What is wrong, Narbe?"

"Here," the soldier handed H a small book. "A fan sent it for you. They said it would prove valuable in an interview with Father Anderson."

"Doesn't Narbe mean "scar" in German?" Anderson arched his brow.

"Yes, it does. I have taken to calling him that since he didn't have a name," H sat down in his chair and looked at the book.

"It was either that or Sargeant Cannon Fodder..." the soldier chuckled, but was careful not to show his fangs. "What is the book, boss?"

"It's a manga..." H cocked his head to the side. "The name is 'Angel Dust'..." Upon hearing this, Anderson's eyes widened, and he grew obviously tense. "I love manga..." H chimed as he started flipping through it. "Oh! Father Anderson is in it! Only younger, and with a gun! Cool!" H flipped through a few more pages. "Huh? Is that Seras? Why is she dressed like a nun?"

"Ae think Ae'll be headin' home now..." Anderson began to slowly inch towards the door. H flipped forward in the pages again, then froze. He silently stared at the page for a few seconds, then at Anderson, then at the page, then Anderson, then Narbe, then the page again.

"Anderson..." H addressed the priest, "Would you mind taking a seat, please?"

"Uh..." Anderson thought for a second. "No thank ye!" Instantly, he was surrounded by a cloud of paper, and in the blink of an eye he dissappeared into the whirlwind of Scripture.

"Dang... he got away..." H growled.

"Vat vill we do now, boss?" Narbe asked.

"We shall do..." H picked up a piece of hair off the floor, "A DNA test... Send a message to Seras Victoria," H ordered his assistant. "Tell her she is due for a check-up."

"Yes, sir!" Narbe replied, and then took off out the door.

"I will get to the bottom of this..." H shook his head. He then picked up the book and shook his head again. "And I'd best get rid of this..." H tossed it up in the air and clapped his hands.

Poof!

The book was gone. "Now, to turn this place back into a doctor's office...

-----

"I cannot believe zey sent me on such a silly errand..." Pip grumbled as he walked out of the cigar shop. "Picking up ze boss's stuff... What a waste of my job..."

Zap!

"What ze heck?" Pip jumped slightly. A puff of smoke appeared in front of him, and out of it dropped a book. "What is zis?" he picked it up. "What ze heck is "Angel Dust"? Oh, its a manga! I love manga!" Pip smiled as he flipped through it. "Zat guy looks kinda familiar..." He flipped through further. "Iz zat Seras?! Why iz she dressed as a nun?!" Pip flipped through a few more pages, then froze. He looked around to see who was watching, and then he stuffed the book into his jacket. "I love manga..."

Bizarre... Truely bizarre...

Next chapter: Vampire Physiology Part 2!

Oh, and yes, Narbe is German for "scar". Only good name I could think of other than Heinrich or some other generic German name...