Michel & Josette

Chapter 28: The Insane Journalist

Michel sighed sadly while he sat at the park, elbows on his knees and chin in his hands. He gloomily stared ahead, unblinking.

It had been a whole week after the incident at the restaurant. Michel desperately tried to explain himself to Josette, Raphael, and Marie. He was not able to find Josette anywhere, Raphael refused to listen to him, and Marie only gave him sad smiles and sympathetic looks.

Michel sighed heavily again, anger filling his eyes. He knew who to blame and he would get his revenge soon. He hadn't been able to see Faux for a whole week either, so he wasn't able to get his revenge. It irked him greatly, but he could wait.

"That foolish cretin!" Michel growled through clenched teeth. "I'll make him pay for saying such foul things to my Josette! Such uncouth foolishness will not go unpunished!"

Still feeling sad, Michel got to his feet, thinking deeply on the matter. He was worried that Josette wouldn't want to talk to him ever again, including Raphael and Marie. He was surprised that they would actually think he would write something like that about Josette.

It was unnerving.

Michel slipped his hands into his pockets and started walking through the park, listening to pedestrians chatter and children complain to their parents about unnecessary things.

He wished Josette was there.

Michel shook his head slowly, still feeling incredibly blue. The main thing that was on his mind was Josette. He missed her so and hoped to see her again soon.

Suddenly, out of the complete blue, someone tripped him…purposely.

Michel let out a yelp as he crashed to the ground, forgetting to put his hands down to protect his face. His face smashed into the pavement and people around him wondered if he was okay.

Michel groaned and slowly climbed to his hands and knees, looking around for the person who dared to trip him. When he looked upwards, he saw a woman staring down at him. This woman's hair was a mess of dark tangles and her eyes were a sharp, narrow green.

She held a notebook, pen, and a recorder in her hands, grinning down at him strangely.

"What is your problem, woman?!" Michel demanded to know, pushing himself to his feet with an air of annoyance. He huffed loudly and dusted himself off.

"Hey. My name is Aimee McCoy. I am a journalist," the woman quickly introduced herself, turning her recorder on. "I was hoping I could interview you?"

Michel grew a perplexed expression on his face. "Huh?"

"I want to interview you," Aimee responded impatiently. "Can I interview you?"

"Whatever for?" Michel wanted to know, wondering if this was Faux's doing. "For some reason he is out to get me!" he thought nervously, looking around for the fake phantom.

"I'm interviewing random people for a paper I'm going to write," Aimee answered with a strange smile. "You just happened to be the first random guy I stumbled upon."

"So…" Michel spoke. "You woke up this morning, went outside, and didn't see any other random person you could have possibly interviewed?"

He didn't like this at all.

"Well…" Aimee looked him up and down. "You are quite attractive."

Immediately Michel's face flushed and he let out a few chuckles, putting his hand behind his head and smiling sheepishly. "Well," he began. "Is that so?"

"Very so." Aimee smirked, narrowing her eyes.

Michel's smile widened and he felt flattered. "I'd love to do your interview! After all, I am the most handsome man in all of Paris, France!"

"Indeed you are." Aimee agreed strangely.

Poor Michel was too oblivious to notice Aimee's odd behavior.

"Where shall this interview take place then, madam?" Michel questioned her politely.

"Right here."

Michel frowned. "Pardon?"

"Right here."

Michel raised an eyebrow before grinning. "Very well then! That sounds splendid!" he said, not finding anything strange at all.

"Indeed," Aimee commented, turning her recorder on and holding it very close to Michel's face. "Now…"

Michel watched her closely.

"If you were a monkey, what would you do?"

Michel's eyebrows shot up and he blinked a few times, unsure of what to think and how to answer that.

"Come again?" Michel breathed, puzzled.

"If you were a monkey, what would you do?" Aimee repeated her question, sounding like a robot.

"Uh…" Michel lowered his gaze. "…I'm not entirely sure."

"Give me a better answer than that, Michel." Aimee retorted quickly, not wasting any time.

"How do you know my name?" Michel demanded to know, giving her a look of suspicion. "I don't recall ever giving that information to you!"

"You told me. Don't worry," Aimee said.

Michel stared at her for a very long moment before responding, "If I were monkey…I guess I'd eat a banana."

"Good." Aimee said.

Michel was starting to get a very uncomfortable feeling. He was starting to realize there was something very wrong with this journalist.

"If you were an elephant, what would you do?"

"I…guess I would drink water with my long nose?" Michel answered, unsure.

"If you were a man with elephant ears, what would you do?"

"Uh…"

"Do you live in an apartment or a house?"

"An apartment."

"Are you in love?"

"…yes."

"Does this person love you back?"

"…no."

"How much money do you make?"

"Enough."

"How many friends do you have?"

"A few."

"When you go to the restroom, are you most likely to urinate or do number two?"

Michel gave her a strange look. "What?"

"Have you ever been in an affair?"

"I've been to a fair, yes."

"That's not what I meant…" Aimee narrowed her eyes.

Michel blinked at her in confusion.

"Have you always been a male?"

Michel looked at her strange again. "Excuse me?"

"What is your social security number?"

Michel started backing away from her. "I'm sorry. I have to go. I…I have something to do that is crucially important!"

"I'm not finished with you yet." Aimee growled, looking like a crazed person that escaped from a mental hospital.

Michel turned around and started running for his life, hearing Aimee screaming like a wild animal from behind him.

Yes, today was strange.