Monday, 25 April 2016

Xander interview

Here you go, my first interview with the decade old maestro Mr Xander Presley-Best.

1) How many tattoos do you have and which one is your favourite?

How does one measure tattoos when they grow into full sleeves or full trousers? (or whatever the tattooing term for covered legs is)
I have two full sleeves, a couple dotted here about on my back and chest, a half leg and numerous others on every limb and appendage. I don't have any in any rude places. So, for the answer to 'how many', I'll say approximately lots. My favourite one is probably my Ghostbusters sleeve.

2) What's your favourite book?

My favourite book ever is called Good Omens by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman. I highly recommend you go out and acquire a copy, there's nowt in it that you wouldn't see in Adventure Time or The Simpsons and it's funny as Hell and Heaven to read.

3) What's your favourite book that you made?

So far, I'm really proud of my current WIP (work in progress- a cool writer abbreviation for you there!). It's called 'FUR' and it's my first attempt at part of the horror genre I never thought I'd unleash (<<< that's a pun that's about to get hysterical), about werewolves! ( :-D BOOM!) 
Either that, my first novel 'Pinprick', due out June, or my first novella 'The Cat Came Back' which is due this year too.

4) Will you be making horror books that are suitable for children?

I'm always up for a challenge and that's something I'd love to do. I grew up reading Roald Dahl books and I don't care what anyone says there's quite a bit of horrific goings-on in those books.
And look at the amount of horror in fairy tales?!
And look at this:

           Xander's Meanders.
     By Matthew Cash
The scenic countryside whizzed past the windows, grass, mountains, quaint little chalets and wooden farm buildings.
Xander leaned against the glass of the train window testing the boundaries of the travel sickness that his continuous staring at close passing by objects was inducing. He wondered if he were to lean out of the window and expel a hot geyser of puke how far and how fast it would travel before hitting the ground. An image of a immaculately dressed business man leaning out of a window the opposite end of the train getting hit with the lumpy milkshake of his breakfast made him smile to himself. But trains were safer now, apparently, in the olden days when his Mum had been young people used to have to lean out of train windows and open the doors with an actual handle. They had windows you could actually lean out of. He had seen an episode of an ancient sitcom at his Dad's once where some ginger metalhead had leaned out of a moving train window and had his head decapitated by a passing train. He had then proceeded to stumble headlessly along the railway track kicking his own head as it shouted obscenities at the decapitated body. It was silly, but kind of amusing. Not only would you not be able to survive decapitation, but he seriously doubted the vocal chords would be intact to enable talking. It was stupid really.
He considered putting his mum's knowledge on decapitation and the effects on the human anatomy to the test but she was a flurry of arms, like Dr Octopus in Spiderman, giving drinks, taking drinks, wiping, and fussing over his two little sisters Alexis and Rebekah. Isobel, his other sister, was watching something on her tablet, headphones in, oblivious to the beautiful sights outside.

He turned and smiled at his mum, her hair was red this month, he said she should have dyed a white cross up the centre of it so her hair would resemble the flag of the country they were in. Switzerland. His eyes caught the glance of the weird looking man a few seats away. He looked like one of the old Doctors in Doctor Who, the one with the crazy white hair who drove around in an old yellow car. The third Doctor it had been. This guy could've been going to a convention or something, he looked like he was trying to be The Doctor with his eccentric clothes, red velvet jacket and bow tie.
A male voice announced in German before a female translated into English, "the train is now approaching Bathsaltz."
His mum whizzed about packing everything away getting his sisters in check as the train slowed down into the old mining town.

They had to take a cable car up the mountain to get to the caves, he and his sisters three had their noses and hands pressed against the glass watching as they rose through the air. He never thought a cable car could hold so many people, there were at least twenty people in this one, including the weird staring Jon Pertwee man.

The caves were cool, dark, cold and dripping as all caves should be. Interesting stalactites and stalagmites, one dragged his attention from the other members of the tour. It was exactly the same shape as naked bum. To anyone with eyes this should have been a form of amusement and Xander was astonished that he guide hadn't exhibited it as part of the tour. "Behold, the famous butt rock."
When the hand clamped down on his shoulder he instantly thought he was going to be told off for looking at the bum boulder. Xander turned to see the torch and headlights of the tour party bobbing far off. Swallowing back the fear of being told off he pulled his most innocent face and turned to the owner of the hand grabbing his shoulder.
It was the Jon Pertwee man. The light of his headlamp made him look sinister like a wizened old gargoyle as he smiled down at him.
Xander was lost for words so didn't say anything."
"Anything louder than hushed voices could cause a cave in. Do not scream."
The man's accent was German.
"Er, why would I need to scream?" Xander asked in a hushed voice.
The man frowned, "Er, Hello, I'm a old man grabbing a young boy in a dark secluded place. Do they not teach you stranger danger in British schools?"
Xander thought about this, "What's your name?"
The man seemed taken aback, "Victor Krauss."
"My name's Xander, my mum was a Buffy fan." Xander said trying to shrug the man's hand off his shoulder.
"I killed my mother and made her skin into a leather settee." Victor said menacingly.
"Woh," said Xander, " she must have been so, so, so unbelievably fat! Or it was a tiny sofa, was it a child's sofa or one for a doll's... "
"My mum was not fat!" Victor said seemingly hurt. "You're missing the point."
Xander scratched his chin as the realisation hit him, "Oh, did you have other skins available and like sew them together or something?"
Victor was dumbstruck, what the hell was wrong with children these days? Here he was, a unstoppable serial killer, about to claim yet another victim, and the kid wasn't phased. They let them watch too many things they shouldn't be allowed to watch these days. "I'm the one that the newspapers of the world are calling 'the suitcase killer'!" That should scare the little sod, thought Victor.
Xander giggled, "You wouldn't be able to kill our suitcase, my mum said it almost killed her getting on the train."
Victor groaned loudly and withdrew a knife from his red velvet jacket, "look, I'm going to skin you and make you into an umbrella stand." he raised the knife, "It's going to hurt. A lot."
Too right, thought Xander as he ducked out of the knife's trajectory and elbowed the old man in the gonads, I hate umbrellas.
The knife missed him and plunged straight into the central crack on the previously mentioned bum rock.
Xander couldn't resist a snigger but soon stopped as the smooth buttocks of rock began to split apart and open a large fissure in the cave flooring.
Victor lost his footing and slid into the aperture, not before grabbing Xander's ankle.

Xander and Victor the Suitcase Killer fell, fell and then when they thought they were going to land they fell some more.  The ground surprised them, as ground often did when you were falling towards it at a rapid speed in total darkness, but luckily a jagged piece of rock caught up in the elastic on Xander's Adventure Time pants and slowed his descent. He landed on something soft that made a noise like a dog laughing.
Something tickled his face and he instinctively clapped his hands as though catching imaginary flies, quite coincidentally, and in no way at all a really lame reason for the author of this to add some much needed lighting for the following scene, a clap-on clap-off light was activated.
Xander wasn't expecting the scene before him. He was in a small room covered in swastikas and other Nazi regalia and some would say memorabilia, flags that hadn't seen the light of day for seventy years, and crude graffiti along the likes of 'Hitler was 'ere!' but obviously in German.
Just to the left of where he sat was an open casket with a dried, mummified corpse in brown clothing, a small toothbrush moustache and the haircut made it all clear to Xander that he had found the body of Adolf Hitler. He noticed he had fangs, long, sharp, pointy, ouchy looking ones.
Xander was no fool, "It's a good job I didn't cut myself and bleed on you. Everyone knows how that would end."
He noticed that he was sitting on the Suitcase Killer, that was the soft thing he landed on. Being a little bit grossed out, he shifted his weight only to be further disgusted as a red arch of arterial blood sprayed from a fatal wound in the Killer's neck. "Urgh!" Xander grimaced and watched the blood spray onto Hitler's vampiric cadaver. Straight onto his face and trickling into his dead mouth.
Xander then said a very bad word, a swear one, and instinctively looked about to make sure his mum wasn't going to pop up and shout at him. But she wasn't there so he said it again, twice.
The dry leathery skin of dead Hitler absorbed all of Victor The Suitcase Killer's blood and was regenerating at a rapid speed.
Hitler's eyes snapped open and Xander was a tiny bit impressed that his irises were red and the black pupils swastika-shaped, that's dedication. His lips drew back from his fangs and he hissed and Xander evilly, in German.
Ever the quick thinker Xander leapt up and ran towards a big flashing neon arrow that had just randomly appeared for simple lack of the author's imagination. It beeped and all.
At the end of the arrow, which also said 'EXIT' was a dead posh looking lift, all fancy like with shiny buttons and  chrome. Xander pressed the button and was surprised but grateful that the doors pinged open straight away to reveal a comfortable chaise longue. He sat on it after pressing the only button inside and hoped that the doors would shut before Vampire Hitler got him.
The nasty Nazi flew towards the lift and shouted, "sheiße'' as the Doors shut in his face.
The lift went up and a Miley Cyrus song started playing, Xander wished there was a down button.
Xander screamed in agonisingly terrible terror as the song turned into a whole album and he attempted to force each of his entire hands into his earholes to block out the audible torture.
After a few minutes of this epitome of earbleeding witchery the lift stopped and Xander leapt out into whatever fate awaited him, anything was better than Vampire Hitler and Miley Cyrus' Greatest Tits, I mean Hits.

The lift had zipped back down as soon as Xander landed on the dirty tiled floor.
It was some kind of restaurant as tables and chairs loomed as ominously as table and chairs can loom in the near darkness. Xander crawled across the floor away from the lift and under the nearest table.
He heard the sound of big heavy footsteps approaching. From the other side of the restaurant somewhere a door was opened as the owner of the footsteps, along with a considerable amount of light, entered.
Xander picked up a laminated  menu from the floor and gasped in astonishment.  
He looked at the brightly coloured menu, a cartoon bear said the place was called Freddy Fazbear's Pizza.
Xander couldn't believe what was going on, this was the stuff of nightmares and he was starting to wish he had gone to the toilet on the train when his Mum had told him too.
Everybody knew about Freddy Fazbear's Pizza place, how the place was shut down after the owner went nuts and killed five children and stuffed their bodies into the four man-sized animatronic animals that had once been the restaurant's gimmick. According to the owner, who's own death in itself was mysterious, the robotic animals came alive and killed whoever they came in contact with. They had found the man pounded and mashed all up and stuffed inside the mechanisms of a unused robot Archie the Aardvark.
Some weirdo had made a lot of money by stealing the whole story and making a video game franchise out of it and set it in the USA.

Xander cowered beneath the table as the stomping footfalls got closer shaking the furniture. A large orange pair of webbed duck feet stopped in front of the lift. The Doors opened and Vampire Hitler jumped out of the lift and collided with the thing with duck feet. The undead dictator barked orders to the thing and it let out a slow mechanical quack in reply.

The seven foot tall duck started over turning the tables in a bid to find the boy who had woken their sleeping master prematurely.
Xander scooted backwards on his bum, still clutching at the laminated menu as his table was thrown aside and he beheld the animatronic called Chica in all its glory. A seven foot tall yellow duck on steroids with arms and legs wearing a blood stained t-shirt with 'let's eat' on it. Its face lowered towards the cowering Xander, eyes twinkling with silver, and said, "quack?" And reached down a feathery hand to grab him.
Chica lifted Xander like he weighed nothing and moved him towards his opened beak. Inside the beak, behind row upon row of sharpened metal teeth, were whirring cogs that acted like an industrial mincer.
Xander screamed and kicked and flicked his legs and arms.
"Halt," shouted Vampire Hitler, and the duck halted.
Vampire Hitler peered disgustedly at the dangling ten year old boy in his minion's grasp and spoke English with a comical German accent, pronouncing W's with V's, that sort of thing. "Vat iz ze meanink ov my premature ejaculation from my slumber?!"
Xander sniggered even though he was far too young and innocent to get the funny thing said in that sentence, but he made a mental note to ask his mum on the way home from school at some point... If he survived. " was an accident." 
Vampire Hitler shrugged, "Very vell, I vill just have to start ze third world war early. Soon my army of animatronic avengers vill rise and destroy ze vorld! Fast food characters, football mascots, every fancy dress costume involving zome fake head since my last demise has been made to my specific instructions. To kill at my command!"
Xander quivered in the duck's hand, world war three was imminent, there was nothing he could do. He stared towards a pair of closed doors, a bright light shining from around them.
Vampire Hitler smiled, "Ah, my prized minion has arrived, together ve shall conquer the vorld." He gestured for Chica to open the doors, "Behold, my chariot, my most valuable weapon, Golden Freddy!"
Xander couldn't believe it was true, the mythological Golden Freddy was rumoured to be specifically in the mind of the Freddy Fazbear's Pizza owner's imagination. It couldn't be.
And it wasn't either.
Chica opened the door to the golden glow, Vampire Hitler's manical laughter sooner diminished when he realised the golden glow was in fact the sunshine, and with a farty noise like a rapidly deflating balloon he shrivelled and winked out of existence.
Not having seen sunlight for thirty years caused the robotics in Chica to malfunction and with a disappointed quack the seven foot duck on steroids shut down for good, a large rugby ball sized egg flopped out of its bum with Game Over written on it almost like the author of this story had gotten fed up.and somehow confused Chica with the Happy Mrs Chicken from Peppa Pig.

Xander was mightily disappointed at such a weak end for his supposedly adventurous story and also thought that the approaching four people, conveniently his mum and three Sisters, carrying all of his favourite treats and eats was a really really shoddy and unimaginative way to end this tale.

The End

5) What's your least favourite food?

Herring roe. It's like fish poo or something, it's evil and looks like fat slugs, and I highly recommend not having them fried on toast and scraping them off the toast and using the same slice of toast to cover with strawberry jam and then eating it. I literally puked my stomach out of my mouth, it was hanging by little tubey things and swinging about like an upside-down gore balloon.

6) What's your favourite mode of transport?

My legs, or anything that I have to use myself to propel.

7) What's your favourite game?

I've never been much of a gamer, of any kind, back in the dusty old days of my first computer console, Sega Megadrive I used to love Sonic The Hedgehog, Lemmings, Worms, Theme Hospital, and the original 2D GTA games.
Board games are boring but I don't mind Scrabble or Monopoly, but I hate, hate, hate these Special Edition versions where they have to just ruin everything.

8) Who's your arch enemy?

I don't have one. It's a much easier and less stressful life not to hate people. Someone who is no doubt famous for being all philosophical and stuff said something sort of along the lines of 'forgive your enemies, so... don't get constipation...' or something, better ask your mum as I've forgotten but she's like the Queen of the inspirational quotes on Facebook.

9) What's your funniest moment in life?

It's hard to think off the top of my head, but one that springs to my mind was when I was at a wedding and I was outside talking to my friend when a massive wasp just buzzed over and sat on the top of his ear like it was riding a horse. That kept me laughing for years.

10) What's your funniest slip?

I hate ice. I always slip over and I always do that funny dancey thing where your arms and legs wave about and you try your best to look like you're not bothered. The funniest time I did that was when I sprained my wrist and had a month off work :-D I had a pink glittery plaster caste and everything!

11) What's the worst thing that ever happened to you?

Death of a loved one most probably. It doesn't matter what your beliefs are, whether you believe in God, nothing, or a gigantic aubergine called Geoff, nothing prepares you for that. But it does make you tougher and focus on just the positive things about that person and it's important to keep on carrying on as, no matter what you believe in, people live on in other people. Look at people like Jesus and Elvis Presley, they died ages ago but are still being spoken about.

12) Would you rather be stupid and immortal or be smart and live to a normal age?

As long as my stupidity didn't get me incarcerated or anything then I'd definitely opt for stupid and immortality, I'm halfway there already.

13) Would you rather save an African child from starvation or have a lightsaber?

Would it be a genuine lightsaber?  As in would it be like how they are portrayed in the films? Would it come with a charger and carry case? Would I get a choice of colours?
Where saving the kid is concerned what would I have to do, like chuck it a cheeseburger or like adopt it and house it and stuff? 

I'll take the lightsaber.

14) Would you rather jump into water and drown or jump into lava?

Without a doubt the lava option. I'm sure it would be quicker even though I can't swim.

15) Would you rather stop world hunger or have all the money in the world?

If I had all the money in the world wouldn't I be able to stop world hunger? Cheeseburgers for everyone :-D

16) Would you rather pry your fingernail off with a fork or stick a toothpick under your toenail and kick a door?

Definitely the toothpick under the toenail. When it comes down to questions like these you have to pick the quickest option and the less permanent or debilitating outcome. You'd be able to cope better with losing a toenail than a fingernail, unless you can pick your nose  with your feet, in which case you should definitely be on Britain's Got Talent.

17) Would you rather be a jock or a nerd?

A nerd any day of the week.

18) Would you rather discover a cure for cancer and die doing it or not find it and live?

I'm generally selfish so I'll opt for the latter.

19)Would you rather die normally or by suicide?
Suicide, but only if I had one hundred percent guarantee that I would not be able to die in any other way other than by my own hand.

20) Are you pansexual?
No, I have never had sexual desires for any kitchen utensils, no matter how sexy these big copper saucepan sets are.