Awful Interview: Nicholas Tecosky

8 Feb

I’m a big fan of Nicholas Tecosky, but apparently we were born to arm wrestle one another repeatedly starting next Monday, February 13th. More details on that later, though you should know- he will most definitely win. I can only complete 3/4 of a pull-up.

Nicholas  is an instigator. Didn’t you hear? He’s a Viceroy of WriteClub ATL. He’s very fancy. Fancier than anyone you know. He’s SUNDANCE fancy.

So, Nicholas. You were just at Sundance. Did you meet Robert Redford? Who was the hottest celebrity you saw? Be honest. Also, why was Taylor Swift there?

I was just at Sundance, though I did not, alas, sight a Redford. I did get my foot grazed by Paul Giamatti in a hallway outside of the premiere of John Dies at the End. I was close enough to touch his beard, which was magnificent, and which stung a little, as I’d just shaved my own. I felt like Samson. Besides that, I didn’t get to meet any celebrities. There was a rumor of Jesse Eisenberg crossing the street a block away from us at one point, but I couldn’t get any substantial proof. And I don’t believe in Taylor Swift, but nice try.

Why don’t you believe in ‘Taylor Swift’? Is it the trail of pixie dust that trails behind her?

I don’t believe the media hype around her. I believe that she was manufactured to explain to children why Country-Pop exists, the same way Persephone was invented to explain seasons or Santa was invented to explain night terrors. Isn’t it strange that no one has ever seen Taylor Swift in real life?

 That is curious. Maybe we could set up a Rube-Goldberg-esque trap to catch her in. If you were going to trap yourself a Taylor Swift, how would you go about it. Step-by-step instructions s’il vous plait.

Swift (A) takes L’Oreal product with string attached, thus pulling string which (B) opens Tupperware container of Lynx feed, (C) surprising Lynx which jumps off see-saw, (D) dumping water onto vulture, who (E) flaps wings, generating enough wind to (F) turn pinwheel, which (G) hypnotizes rich baby who (H) drops his silver spoon into a silver basin, which (I) startles old man who yells at kids to get off his lawn. All of this distracts Taylor Swift long enough for man with dart gun to shoot her with tranquilizer dart. You’re welcome. Though, to be fair, my Beyonce trap is the best trap of all time.

Well, don’t hold back. How do you trap a Beyoncé? Do you put a ring on it?

That is correct! Yeah. You work for a really long time at a shitty job, and you go ring shopping. And then you take her to dinner and you present the ring. If you’re lucky, she loves you enough to say yes. If not, I know a guy with tranquilizer darts. But putting a ring on it is the best way to keep it.

After her hit single, don’t you think that’s a little predictable?

Of course it is. But you’ve got to look at the Long Game: You give the people what they expect before you hit ‘em with the darts. That’s when it gets interesting. Post-dart.

Tell me about some other post-darts.

What, the details of the Long Game? Or how it all ends? Alright: Step 1- collect a bunch of Pop Divas through whatever means necessary. Step 2- [REDACTED]. Step 3- World Domination. Universal Healthcare. Free Kittens to Good Homes. Solar Powered Happiness Machines. Unicorns without Daddy Issues. Square Dances. A good education to all who will listen. An hour of afternoon naptime for all workers and a chicken (or Tofurky) in every pot. Lots of Quiet broken up by periods of intense activity. Everyone gets laid!

Utopia, basically, without all of the sloganeering.

What was the last Utopian novel you read? Do you have a favorite? This may be silly, but I find myself thinking about The Giver more often than I probably should. Mostly about how wonderful of a movie it would be. It’s probably not my favorite Utopian novel, but it’s been stuck to the roof of my brain since the second grade, you know, like peanut butter.

Well for Utopian/Dystopian lit, you have to tip my hat to Orwell and Brandbury and blah blahdee blah, but I think Frank Miller’s Dark Knight Returns and it’s follow-up The Dark Knight Strikes Again most resemble my view of the future. Perhaps there will be fewer exploding babydolls, but I’m hesitant to make that call. Maybe there will be more. Maybe the street will be littered with them. Maybe there won’t be normal babydolls.

Register to vote, kids.

Are you hypothesizing that practicing good citizenship could lead to a world with less blown up baby dolls? I’m a bit skeptical.

Are you speculating that the American public would actually vote for MORE baby dolls implanted with explosives? Because that ain’t MY country, Vouched. Have you even read the Constitution?

Of course I have! In fact [WARNING: I’m about to unleash a mighty mess of nerd on you] my Competition Government class placed third at state my Senior Yr. of Highschool.
You’re welcome America.
Are we about to arm-wrestle and pound beers? Because you will win at one of those two things.

I think at this point that there is no other way out of this interview. I am bound by family pride and functional alcoholism to meet you in the field of battle. I think that the scalp of the Third Place winner of State Level Competition Government would look nice on my mantle, next to my picture of Ronald Reagan and Manuel Noriega leg-wrestling. You tell me where and when, Vouched. I am coming for you. I will allow you to post the transcripts of your post-match lamentations. It will be a nice compliment to all of this.

 Maybe we could arm-wrestle and drink beers at the reading on the 13th. What other things would you say to entice people to attend that evening? (Assuming that an arm-wrestling match wasn’t enticing enough, which it ought to be)
No matter the winner, maybe we should end this evening with an Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark style drink-off. I’ll be Marion Ravenwood.

Enticement? Well, first off, there’s goats. I hear that they run the whole property. I hear that they’re carnivores. Also, there should be a nice assortment of the city’s finest literary talents in attendance. And they’re mean when they’re drunk, so the Tecosky v. Vouched Drink-till-you-drop Wrestle-a-thon will (most likely) be merely the opening volley to an entire evening of slurred epithets and well-worded recriminations. There will likely be crying. The messy snot-running-down-your-face type of weeping that more healthy people left behind in middle school. If that doesn’t sell you, you’re not my demographic.

And if you’re Marion Ravenwood, does that make me the overweight Sherpa? Because I’m cool with that.

Well, I’m glad that’s settled.

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One Response to “Awful Interview: Nicholas Tecosky”

Trackbacks/Pingbacks

  1. Laura Straub’s END O’ THE YEAR list « Vouched Books - December 21, 2012

    […] Interviews that still make me laugh big and large:  Joshua Ware, Michael Nye, Matt Bell, & Nicholas Tecosky (who still owes me an arm […]

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