Welcome to Gaia! :: View User's Journal | Gaia Journals

Here's a slightly funny story. It was the story i used in my Theatre class.
Tell me what you think. If you want you can ask questions and i'll answer them as that character. I added a question that was asked during that presentation. Enjoy.

Character Interview


Is this where the blasted interview is taking place?! I've been looking all over

this wretched place and i'm already pissed off since the security guard took my

machete. Well, lets get started. My name is John Blue. Well, I was named Susan

Star 10 seconds before my mom decided to make sure if I was a boy or a girl. Man,

I hated that last name Star! I was born on a ranch, on July 19th, 1875 in Texas. I

work, well worked in a slaughter house. You know them buildings where workers

bring in animals for you to slaughter.

I have neither brothers nor sisters. My mother was the best mom I could’ve

ever had. I do admit she was the most annoying mother. I filled me with rage when

she spoke. She beat me with a stick till it broke on my back for wearing her dress

once. I remember it like it was yesterday. I was fifteen when I walked in that

kitchen. “Mama! Can you buy me one of these? I like the freedom!” The next thing I

know I was being beaten with a stick till it broke on my back. I wanted to ask her

why but after she said she’ll knock my front teeth in I was like, “Na ah, no way.” So

I ask her. Next thing I know I’m in my bed wondering why I was missing a front

tooth. That’s my mother.

Now my Daddy is a different story. He let me play with my friends when he

could’ve been teaching me life lessons like my mother. I was ashamed. He never

talked to me, or even showed me what he looked like. Once I doubted he was my

father so I ask my mom if he was. She said “Yes, he was a brave man.” At that

point I was confused. I looked at her then at my father and then back at her and

said, “What man!? All I see is a rock with a name and dates carved into it.” Right at

that moment I found out who my father was and how much punishment my mother

can give.

At age nineteen I headed out to find my own job and life in the city. Once I

had walked twenty-five miles in a random direction, it came into mind that I had no

idea where the nearest city was. I was walking for miles on the open road without

even having a sense of where I was going. I ended up at a bus station where I rode

off to South Carolina. There I got a job as a slaughterer in a slaughter house. There

I had kill any animal they brought in. Mostly, cows. It was a hard job. The conditions

were horrible and unhealthy. There was a pool of warm blood mixed with other

liquids that reached up to your ankle. There was blood everywhere and the stench

of rotten flesh. It was worse during the winter. The warm blood created a steam

cloud so thick I couldn’t see beyond three feet in front of me. I could hear the cows

roaming around the pool of blood and filth but couldn’t see them. I felt like leaving

but, the only thing keeping me from freezing from the cold winter storm was the

heat emitted from the animals blood.

It was a nasty feeling that I soon got over. The building next to it was a meat

processing plant. Anything and everything was processed with the fresh meat. From

Rotten meat to rat excrement. Joe, a worker that worked along side me, started to

become a bit of an annoyance. He’d complain about the working conditions and

amount of pay we received. Then, he’d start talking about forming unions and going

on a strike. I went along fine how things were so, I didn’t want to. I continued to

ignore him and went to slaughter the next helpless creature. But, he’d keep on

nagging saying we can make a difference. That was when I began to lose my

patients. He continued blabbing and I couldn’t take it. I made one swift move to his

gut and he went quiet and I sighed in relief. I began to pull away and then I noticed

I had attacked with the hand I held my machete in. He fell into crimson pond that

covered the ground and squirmed a bit for a while then remained motionless. I

stared at his body realizing what I had done but, for some reason I felt no regret.

“John! I don’t pay to day dream! Hurry up! Cows don‘t slaughter themselves.

Where’s Joe?” I turned at the angry voice of my boss and eye Joe’s body that’s

concealed in the blood. “He… he took a break.” I said. “You go fine that lazy maggot

and tell him he just caused you both to lose twenty-five percent of yer pay!” I eyed

him in anger and nodded. He walked away and I began to get rid of Joe’s body.

After everyone had left home to rest, I entered the factory and dumped his body

into the processing machine. His body mixed in with the rotten flesh of other animals

soon to make its way to someone’s dinner plate. I felt fascinated.

Soon, Joe was said to have quit and was quickly replaced by another annoying

brute. He ended up disappearing and I told the boss he a date at dinner. One after

the other they came and left. And for each one, I had a new story to tell my boss

for the reason they left. I felt no regret at all after what I’d done. It was just like

slaughtering a cow. They were poor, helpless and unaware of their fate until it was

too late. A couple beheaded others a stabbed in the gut and another bunch

completely dismembered just for the fun of it. As they went, my pay rose. It was

completely beneficial to me. Complete peace and quiet as I worked, a good pay and

more flesh for the hungry. Everyone wins.

Later, on my boss had stopped hiring new workers since they all ended up

disappearing. I thought it would give me even more peace without the annoyance of

my partners. But soon the annoyance came from somewhere else. “John, you ugly

runt! That’s twice the work for you since everyone keeps quitting! Move!” My boss.

He was an ol’ rich fella that had hundreds of workers on his ranch. All he had to do

was sit back and watch us work. He had no family. No friends. Just his lousy money.

I wanted him to suffer. I broke into his home the night he went to town. When he

arrived his home was on fire. He turned around and found me standing in front of

him. He began to curse at me but, I shut him up with a stab in the knee. I dragged

him to the factory and held him over the meat processing machine. He offered me

all his money for his life. I thought about it and agreed. Out from my pocket I took

out his checkbook I had stolen before I lit his home. He wrote me the check and I

jabbed it into my pocket. Then, he demanded me to carry him to get medical help. I

looked at him in rage and shoved him. He hit the railing and fell into the machine.

As he yelled in pain I watched. Watched as he was torn and broken to pieces. I left

the factory and joined the people trying to put out the fire. They never found the

boss and I was accused because of my bloody clothes. Though, it was later dropped

since I only had the pair I wore and worked with blood daily. I then, left and headed

home for a peaceful rest. But my mother began to speak when I arrived. I began to

get annoyed....



Are you people going to ask me questions or what?! I'm not going to

stand here all day!


Q: Do you still wear womens clothes, if not what happened to that fetish?
A: No i don't. I didn't know it was for women and besides i was 9yrs old and had been recently kicked by a cow.

Q: What were you doing to the cow?
A: Tipping them!