Sullivan Interview Part one

So as promised I’m going to reveal the hidden Natalie Sullivan interview on our time on the spirit. Natalie is a great cast mate and better friend. Thanks again for letting Jamie and me spend the night at your place. Since the room I was in, in the second city apartment was deemed:” Too hot to f***”. Although the phrase “too hot to f***” became the first bit of my new cast. Once again my bit creation rate remains high. If you get the chance please check out Natalie’s blog. Natalieyachtrocks.blogspot.com. It is far superior to my blog in most ways. (Note: Mom, Dad you probably should just skip over this posting. It’s going to be another one of those.)

While I love profiles where I just give my thoughts on people, Natalie loves interviews where she lets people give their thoughts on themselves. She interviewed all the ladies in our cast including James, but due to time constraints and a Lost marathon it was believed she never got around to interviewing myself and Shawn aka Ma-sheen. The truth is that she did in fact do those interviews. She just never posted them. Why, would she do that? Because the content of said interviews was controversial at best and life shattering for some individuals at worst. The interviews were so shocking that I had put a mental block on them. I did not recover these memories until I had read a book about a dentist who was working with the police to catch a serial killer and it turns out she had repressed memories and then through the course of the book she regained here memories. The book made me think what if I had repressed memories.

So instead of overreacting I used the ship phone (which costs $8 a minute) and called James’ Dad who had hypnotized me once before to help me quit smoking. I waited on hold for 45 minutes and then asked him to hypnotize me over the phone to see if I had any repressed memories. He was dubious at first, due to the fact something like that would take 4 and half hours of hypnosis. I explained how important it was, and finally he agreed. I got myself comfortable on the reception desk, and let myself be guided into a deep hypnotic trance. Seven hours later a memory was recovered, a memory of an interview on the Spirit with one Natalie Sullivan. James’ Dad and I discussed this for another three hours. I wondered why Natalie had never mentioned the interview; James’ Dad suggested maybe she had blocked it from her memory too. I asked if I could find and post the interview if it would be therapeutic for everyone involved. James’ Dad felt that it could very well be very damaging and I should leave it alone. I argued that if it was an interview about me, then the damage done to others was insignificant compared to my need to keep putting stuff in my blog. He then asked how many people actually read my blog, I informed him about four. He then asked me if my narcissism was worth permanently damaging four people. I was glad he finally saw things clearly and I promptly hung up with him, and worked out a plan on how to get that interview.

If Natalie didn’t remember the interview she might still have the notebook she used in her apartment. Remembering how Natalie accumulated stuff throughout our first cruise she might not have even finished unpacking. I remembered the notebook well. It was pink with a duck and a rabbit serving each other tea. Underneath the picture it read, “Friendship is always having enough lumps of sugar, because friendship is so sweet.” I think Katy had given her the notebook. (Gross. The notebook…not Katy) I then called one of my few friends left in Chicago; I won’t use his real name here so I’ll just call him Ttam Nolnacs. I asked him if he would be wiling to break into her apartment and steal the notebook. He told me, he had hockey practice and wouldn’t be able to do it. I was at a loss. If I couldn’t find someone who would commit a felony out of blind friendship how was I going to get that interview? I racked my brain thinking of other people I might know who would help me that lived in Chicago. I called my older brother and asked him but he informed me that he was suiting up to go to an event where people pretend that they are their dungeons and dragon’s characters for real and then beat the hell out of each other with nerf bats. I thanked him anyway, and he proceeded to keep talking about the event. I tried to thank him again, but he kept talking. He mentioned how one guy at this event had worn corduroy pants. “Can you imagine!?” He cackled with delight “A tree elf chieftain wearing corduroy? We could hear his pants swishing from a mile away!” I pretended there was static on the line and hung up. Then like a lightning bolt a thought hit me. Corduroy pants! There was someone I knew in Chicago who would be willing to break into an apartment to find out more about Natalie Sullivan! So I called this assistant presidential type person to help me. It took awhile to get him to remember who I was, so I asked him to put me on hold while he called Los Angeles and asked about my rep (I also instructed him not to call James about it, because he wouldn’t give an honest answer) an hour later he did remember me and asked what I was doing. I told him he had hired me to do another ship, and that I needed his help. I explained what I wanted him to do. I could hear his corduroy swishing as paced his office mulling my offer over.

“All right, I’ll do it, but any poon-ties I find I keep. Deal?” he asked curtly. “I guess?” I was unsure how to respond not knowing what poon-ties were. “Look if you want this done, I keep the poon-ties! I don’t want to hear you bitching that I didn’t send poon-ties along with this fucking notebook that is so important to you.” “What are poon-ties?” I asked as innocently as I could. I didn’t want to piss him off because I was hoping maybe he would have more work for me in the future. Although the fact he said poon-ties in a Transylvanian accent unnerved me. “Yeah, like you don’t know what poon-ties are?” He scoffed. ‘No.” Was all I could think to say. “Poon-ties, poon-ties, you know squirrel covers, pussy turbans, panties!” He screamed. “I keep whatever of her panties I find. Got it?” Came the snarl at the other end of this very expensive call. “Oh right, yeah sure, go crazy take what you want. I only want the notebook. Uhmm. Why do you call them poon-ties?” I asked. “ Why do you call them over-vaginalls?” He quickly retorted. “I don’t.” I said. “Well you should it would be fucking funny if you did. I’ll need another man on this. Which means less poon-ties for you.” He barked. “I just want the notebook, I’m not interested in her over-vaginalls.” I giggled in spite of myself. “See it’s funny.” He said. “Me and my partner will split the poon-ties down the middle, you keep the notebook.” “Fine.” I said. “Who are you going to use on the job?” “No real names.” he said, “Lets just call him Cricket.” “OK.” I responded. “Call him whatever you want just get me the notebook.” I was losing patience. “Fine. Fine.” he said. “I bet she has a mountain of poon-” I hung up before he could finish.

This all took place my first week on the jewel, now almost three weeks later I’ve received a call from the personnel office. They have informed me that 1.the notebook has arrived 2. They’ve heard about me from the spirit and security is keeping an eye on me 3. There is a hair clog in the water slide and I am a primary suspect. I’ve run down and gotten the notebook, left a threatening note with accounting to shut their fucking mouths, and taken a spin down the water slide. I am now ready to present to you the Lost Natalie Sullivan Interview…..

Jan 15h, 2008 11:28 pm Majarini’s

Spotlight on Peter Fluet! (pronounced flu-way) Peter “chi chi” Fluet is our other cast member from the City of Angels. Peter is the second of the three men (I use the term loosely) in my cast whom I will be interviewing. Peter is the only married person in the cast and his wife Jamie will be coming soon. Peter loves comic books, Lost, drawing cartoons, Teramasu and his wife. He picks me up in Bagpipe and has quite the rep in Los Angeles. Does he have thoughts in his head lets find out!!

Natalie: So Peter I notice that you’re drinking a diet coke. What a surprise.

Peter: Yeah, I probably drink too much of this stuff. I find that it helps fill my gas tank with be…

N: Beans. Yeah. We know you’re full of beans. You helped create Gonzales Arrives, you have a wife and you like comic books. You’re fucking awesome.

P: Uhhh yeah. Did we want to talk about any of that stuff?

N: No. Well thanks for taking the time to talk to me. Next week Shawn! Go smoke another cigarette Fluet.

P: So that’s it?

N: That’s it.

P: I’m getting the sense you didn’t really want to do this.

N: No this was super fun. Oh look it’s my real friend Jenna. Hey Jenna.

P: She can’t hear you. She’s going down on a gallon bottle of Barcardi. Does the shortness of this interview have anything to do with Roatan? You’ve been acting funny ever since we left.

N: I don’t know what you’re talking about.

P: Natalie stop writing this all down.

N: No. I need to write it down. I need it on a paper. That way its real.

P: Stop writing!

N: No I have to keep writing. Something happened in Roatan I have to expose the truth. Oh my god, I remember now….I remember….

P: So you do remember Roatan. Unfortunate.

Where am I? We were in Majarini’s. Oh God, we’re in a crew stairwell. No cameras. I should stop writing and come up with a plan.

P: I’m sorry about knocking you out with the nerve pinch. You should really stop writing. I can talk you through this.

N: TALK ME THROUGH THIS? I SAW YOU KILL THOSE PEOPLE!

P: Would it help if I told you those twenty-three men in Roatan weren’t good people.

N: No. Murder is murder. You’re a murderer.

P: I’m a patriot.

N: Go to hell.

I kick him in the balls. He wasn’t expecting it. I’m free. Fuck. I’m lost. Why weren’t we put on the crew manifest? I have no idea where I am on the ship. Just stop here. Hide behind this pallet of Colombian Emeralds. In case I don’t make it out of here I should tell my story. The last time we were in Roatan I witnessed my cast mate Peter Fluet gun down twenty-three men at an internet café just off the port. I didn’t even know he was off the ship. He claimed he was having accounting problems again. I had gone into port hoping to find a hammock at a bargain price but the incessant heat and the kids pestering me for dollars made me cut my trip short. I had just taken a picture of a goat with a squirrel on its back. I had just come up with a great one liner to go along with the picture and decided to post it on my blog. The internet café was just a room on the second floor of a realty building. Usually tourists flock there because there is a bar adjacent to the internet café. I didn’t even notice that the place was barren. I think there were some kids telling me not to go up there. I thought they were just asking for more money. Now I know they were lookouts for Fluet.

Fluet where is he? Do I smell the reek of cigarettes? He might be close. Just finish this and hide the notebook. So I walked up to the door of the café and I heard Fluet on the other side of the door. I burst in to greet my friend and show him my emperor squirrel picture. What I found was twenty three men between the ages of 20 and 60 bound and gagged on the floor of the internet café. Fluet’s lumbering pacing was the only sound in the room. He turned and saw me, his eyes rolled and he pointed a gun at me. “Close the door.” He said. I couldn’t speak. I just closed the door. Trying to make sense of it. There was someone else standing in the corner, but I can’t remember his face. Fluet almost seemed to defer to him for advice on what to do next. I can still hear the booms of the gunshots. He shot those men as calmly as he was throwing darts into a board. He had to reload three or four times to get the job done. When he was finished he turned and smiled a sad smile.” What do you expect Natalie? I’m full of beans. You should know what that’s like.” Then the figure in the corner came forward and I don’t remember anything else. In fact I didn’t start remembering again until this morning. We were doing some bit me and James, and then suddenly the memories started flooding back. I think James started crying I’m not sure. I immediately had to run to my room to vomit. Then Fluet came and insisted on the interview. Why didn’t I run and tell someone? I think because I didn’t want to believe it, that maybe it was dream. It’s not a dream. I’m trapped on a boat with a psychopath. Oh God, he’s coming. Mom, Dad I love you.