BlueZer0.net

This shitty footbridge is The Shadow’s new home -- I can’t wait for the next Hizzles. “This is the cement abutment that I sleep on, that’s the river, and this concludes our newest episode of Hizzles.” Also pictured, the stone circle, cemetery, and river.

I crept up with a flashlight, and though he was angry that I had sort of cornered him, he wasn’t angry enough to run out into the rain. I pulled up a rock at the fire as Consuela stirred the possum stew, and recorded the following interview.

FK: So, this is a sasquatch’s natural habitat, huh?

TS: Yeah, that’s real funny. At least you didn’t go for the troll joke.

FK: Right. What’s the deal on selling out Decanus? What’d he ever do to you?

TS: See, that’s why I wanted to avoid this interview. You’re always so reductionist. Things are complicated in the real world, fatso. You can’t just sit in your apartment and pontificate, or walk a quarter of a mile and take some pics and call that reporting. In the real world things happen, and things fall through.

FK: What does that mean? What fell through?

TS: L’École Des Beaux Lézards fell through, that’s what. I had some backers, notably Venutian Intra-Tree Computer Systems LLC, and when I couldn’t get them a return on their investment, they got angry and sent that mangy coyote, I mean Chupacabra, to my school. When I still didn’t come up with the money, they came after me themselves -- Chupacabras are unreliable, you know. They sleep in, and so on. So, they [the Venutian spotted chicks] fired up the saucer, and came after me. I wasn’t home -- I was on my way to BZ headquarters to make up another story, post it, and to try to bum a couple dollars off Decanus, or steal one of the janitors’ bottles of Boone’s Farm. They caught me on my way there, and I did the first thing I could think of -- sell him out to save my ass. OK? You satisfied with that?

FK: Yeah, but what does this mean? Is L’École Des Beaux Lézards out of commission for good?

TS: Just until I get some new backers. I have to have facilities, you know? I have to have advertising to get students. I have to have books and computers -- at least one -- all of which require suckers with seed money. Capital. Until I have that, I’m living under the bridge.

FK: Yeah, well what about the reporting you did when you were under their employ, practically? Can we trust anything that was said in your eBook? It seems like a really serious conflict of interests.

TS: Yeah, you can trust all that. I got that information from the spotted chicks themselves, and it was in their interest that I have the truth. I mean, they gave me that information for a reason, you know? And not just my ultra-famous ability to convince spotted chicks to do whatever I want. They had, at that time -- they’ve got nothing now, as you know -- a hardware update coming out. They wanted everyone to know about the intra-sycamore computers so that they’d be obsolete because they were no longer covert, and the earth government and the grays would then have to upgrade to their new hardware. But, of course, that never materialized. They didn’t even get past the planning stages with the hardware update. Or maybe they got a couple prototypes up and running eventually, but what I saw when I took the tour of their offices was very primitive.

FK: What was it? Like, did it go inside something else, other than trees?

TS: I can’t talk about that. You know, if they get things up and running, they might back me again later. They’re probably going to be pissed that I told you this much.

FK: So, wait, you’re telling me that you’re going to hide their secrets, when you could tell us what to anticipate in terms of surveillance? You’re going to put us at risk so that in the future you can maybe have a school again for a little while before they turn us all into slaves?

TS: Hey fat ass, you don’t understand what it’s like in the private sector. They expects results.

FK: Yes, I do understand. I’ve been a working man for quite a long time now. Better than ten years.

TS: Well then you should know. I have to scrape out a living somehow. Until I get backers, I live here. Underneath the bridge, the top has sprung a leak, and the animals I’ve trapped have all become my pets, and I’m living off of grass and the drippings from the ceiling. It’s OK to eat fish because they don’t have any feelings.

At this point I backed away from an obviously upset and somewhat disturbed Shadow. Knowing that most homeless people suffer from some sort of mental illness, I decided that it was wise to let him cool down before approaching him again for more information.