Interview

Hello, I'm interviewer Martin Bashir! You know, that bloke who interviewed those other freaks, Princess Diana and Michael Jackson! I came to Camden to find out about the real Mark and Dave.

Bashir: So, Mark, tell me about your childhood.
Mark: What?
Bashir: Your childhood, tell us about growing up, and what you were like as a boy.
Mark: I'm afraid I wouldn't know anything about that sort of thing. I can't remember that far back.
Bashir: Well, what was your earliest memory?
Mark: What?
Bashir: What is the very first thing you can remember?
Mark: Erm, I can remember being in some dingy, disgusting shithole.
Bashir: And what were you doing?
Mark: Well, I was sitting down, and then some idiot came in and starting asking questions.
Bashir: What was he asking?
Mark: Oh, something about my childhood. Yes, I remember now. I was in this really horrible place, I think it was a shop. Yes, it sold what we called "all legal highs" [laughs]. What a fucking joke! Tell you what, I'm glad that's all in the... oh. Shit.

There was a pause of about twenty seconds or so, in which I realised what Mark had just realised. That he was still in the same place now! That he couldn't really remember very much at all! It's this power to see what people are really thinking - it's that empathy - that's what makes me such a genius interviewer!

Bashir: Oh, so you mean it was only a few seconds ago? Wow!
Dave: [inaudible]
Bashir: OK mate.
Mark: Oh my god, what's going on? Who the hell are you?
Bashir: I'm world-famous interviewer Martin Bashir.
Mark: I don't remember letting you in. Dave?
Dave: [inaudible]
Mark: OK.
Bashir: What did he just say?
Mark: How the fuck should I know?
Bashir: Is he normally like that?
Mark: Like what?

Dave got up, much to my surprise, and walked over to a drawer. He took out several bottles of colourful tablets and poured them down his throat.

Mark: Take it easy there mate! Don't forget we've got a meeting with the bloke from the council later on! You'd better sober yourself up. Here, have a puff on this.

Mark handed Dave a cigarette. It was an odd shape - like I saw in a book about drugs once! I tentatively put to Mark the question that just had to be asked.

Bashir: Is that cannabis?
Mark: Er... it's not not cannabis. If you know what I mean!

By this I used my powers of empathy to deduce that this really was cannabis!!

Bashir: Wow!
Mark: Yeah.
Bashir: Another thing. You just reminded Dave about a meeting with the council. How come you remember that, but not your childhood?

At this point, Mark and Dave laughed. They laughed for a while. Then they continued laughing. They chuckled and giggled, and then they ate some cold pizza that Dave had found in a bin outside. Then they quietened down a bit.

Bashir: So -

Then they started laughing again, and they carried on laughing. Really, really hard. They were both going blue in the face. This lasted for some time. I joined in with the laughing, in the hope that this might bring the situation to a speedy end. After twenty minutes, a few more joints and a couple of bottles of absinthe, things seemed to calm down.

Bashir: Could I ask some more questions now? Dave, perhaps you could tell me about your life?

Dave didn't even grunt this time. He barely looked me in the eye. In fact, his eyes were shut.

Bashir: Dave?...Oh. Well Mark, perhaps you could tell me some things about Dave?

I looked at Mark and he stared back, with wide unblinking eyes. He stared at me for a long time, perhaps for as long as an hour or so - his large eyes sunken into his greying face, still not blinking once.

Bashir: Mark?... Anybody? OK.

Back to the index