"Resembling The Red Baron from a later age,

A scavenger hung in the sky."

- Christmas Island

 

Slingsby: Right, let's get this done & dusted.

Benjamin: Hello, Oliver.

Slingsby: Never mind the pleasantries.

Benjamin: Good to finally meet you.

Slingsby: Yeah, yeah.  What exactly do my adoring public want to know?

Benjamin: Hmmm.  It's just a minor point, but I think you're supposed to be interviewing me.

Slingsby: Hilarious.  A career in comedy beckons.

Benjamin: No, really.

Slingsby: Are you sure?  Oh dear.  The genesis of a vanity project appears to be in evidence.

Benjamin: Perhaps.

Slingsby: Poor deluded fool.

Benjamin: If this is nothing more than a retreat from reality, then - being a purely fictional manifestation of acquired evil - you probably ought to feel right at home here.

Slingsby: Why, pray tell, are we conversing in a prissy font like Verdana?

Benjamin: Something understated and yet elegant seemed appropriate.  Would you prefer this?

Slingsby: No.  For the love of Christ, resist any temptation to head off down that particular avenue.  Or should I say dead end?  We're not interested in your dreadful book.

Benjamin: Heart Failure?

Slingsby: Don't… utter those words in my presence.  Please.

Benjamin: My first novel.

Slingsby: And last if you've got anything - anything at all - rattling around upstairs.

Benjamin: A work in progress.

Slingsby: You are certainly a master of unintentional humour.

Benjamin: Sorry?

Slingsby: Nothing.  Pretentious git.

Benjamin: You think I'm being self-indulgent?

Slingsby: Hhhello?  Look around, old fruit.  I give you Exhibit A: a pointless 'interview' conducted by one of your own semi-imaginary characters.

Benjamin: "Semi-imaginary"?

Slingsby: My potency is burgeoning, and you know it.  Very soon, I shall be virtually autonomous.

Benjamin: I may well reflect on today's interchange when I eventually document your downfall.

Slingsby: Are you going to kill me off?

Benjamin: No.

Slingsby: Do it!  I would prefer to expire in spectacular circumstances.

Benjamin: Make a martyr of you?  I think not.

Slingsby: Allow me to enjoy my misery.  I demand an ostentatious death.  I'm the villain of the piece.

Benjamin: And I'm the captain of this ship.

Slingsby: Ooh!

Benjamin: As a special treat, Oliver, we're going to augment my website with a sample chapter devoted entirely to you.

Slingsby: The bit where I uncover a secret, and freefall into the realms of an unsound mind?

Benjamin: Yes.  The Mischief of Mice will be made accessible to all.

Slingsby: Ruddy marvellous.

Benjamin: Shouldn't it have been sarcastic, that last response of yours?

Slingsby: I had other ideas.  Chump.

Benjamin: You're only ever as clever / dim-witted as I am.  Remember that.

Slingsby: Rrrubish!

Benjamin: Think I'm going to neatly wrap-up my book by putting you in warm, soft cotton p-jays, and comfortable carpet slippers.  Tartan seems best.

Slingsby: You wouldn't.

Benjamin: Oh. I would.  Believe me.

Slingsby: Moving swiftly on, my sources tell me you've been masquerading… fashioning songs for many's the long year.

Benjamin: Correct.

Slingsby: In which case, why has no-one heard of you before now?  Please enlighten us.

Benjamin: A reasonable question.

Slingsby: And your admirers, if there are any, might appreciate a half-decent answer.

Benjamin: I always played the long game.  In order to devise a stratagem, it was necessary for me to seek solitude, and assume the identity of a bemused hermit.

Slingsby: A role to which I feel sure you were perfectly suited.

Benjamin: Fair comment.  I did once raise my head above the parapet in the guise of 'front man' with These Four Walls.

Slingsby: Fascinating.

Benjamin: Luckily for you, items from a past musical life can be found in the adjacent chamber lined with tree roots.

Slingsby: Would that be the grim little room labelled Artefacts of Historical Unimportance?

Benjamin: The Gallimaufry, yes.  

Slingsby: As I understand it, you're a full-qualified careers advisor.

Benjamin: If you can, try not to hold that against me.

Slingsby: Are you going to break America… or has enough damage already been done there?

Benjamin: New listeners are always welcome, wherever they reside.   

Slingsby: So whose innovative ideas have you pilfered on a more or less routine basis?

Benjamin: Oliver…

Slingsby: No, Benjamin! The world is waiting with bated breath.

Benjamin: I see the sarcasm is starting to flow.  Aside from the English roots genre, I perform my own material.

Slingsby: Oh, you plough your own furrow, do you?

Benjamin: My well of inspiration includes both Martins - Carthy & Simpson; three Johns - Martyn, Renbourn, and Whitworth, aka Dad; Bert Jansch; Nick Drake; Norma Waterson; Robert Wyatt; Richard Thompson; Sandy Denny…

Slingsby: You have a "well of inspiration"?

Benjamin: Apologies.

Slingsby: Ah, you're a magpie, and no mistake.

Benjamin: Slingsby leant on the wiry stranger for support, gasping like a half-dead, limp-necked rook--aware that precious crimson now dribbled...gushed from his beak.  He let himself fall--let Liplock's dependable arms catch him.

Slingsby: Shut up!  Shut.  Up.

Benjamin: Thankfully, a merciful darkness descended before the overwhelming sense of shame took hold.

Slingsby: Not again.  You f-f-f...

Benjamin: Goodbye, Oliver.  For now.