You Want Me To Talk? What’s Next, I Gotta Sing And Dance?

You want me to “talk?” What’s next, I have to sing and dance? Choreograph an original musical number based on the events of my life up to this point? And then what? Novelize? Monetize? Record a best-selling audio book, foreword by Peter Bogdanovich? Adapt it for the silver screen and audition for the role of myself? Practice being myself in the mirror so I can really nail it? Is that what you want? Huh?

 

You want me to secure funding for a spin-off television series based on fan favorite side characters whose backstories weren’t explored in the original? Win awards for each increasingly more annoying version of the same story? Melt the Emmy, Grammy, Oscar, and Tony down into a big metal hunk? Display it in a gallery as an artistic statement against the idea of awards? Win more awards? Right now? For your entertainment? You would like that, huh? I bet you’d like that.

 

You want me to “shut up?” What’s next, I gotta take a vow of silence? Communicate only with hand gestures and hastily-made drawings? Is that it? Become a mime? Do mime stuff? Wear mime clothes? Eat mime food? Hang out with other mimes? At your behest? Yes?

 

Move to France or Canada? Live as a mime lives? Age as a mime ages? Die as a mime dies? Without a word? Not a peep? I bet you’d enjoy that fantastic silence but let me ask you this: hath not a mime farts? Hath not a mime sneezes? If you stab a mime, do we not scream? And if you quietly cross a mime, do we not seek LOUD revenge? You don’t know, do you? You don’t even know.

 

You want me to “solve for x in the equation 18/3–7+2*5=x?” What’s next, I gotta divide 18 by three? What’s after that, I gotta multiply two and five? What’s after that, I gotta add six to negative seven? What’s last, I gotta add negative one and 10? Is that your idea of a solution? Nine? What was even the point of that? Hello??

 

You want me to calculate ambiguous math problems without explanation? Just free labor? Or was the solution itself a calculation of my wage? Do I get nine? Why not just round up to 10? I feel I’m worth closer to 10 than nine, wouldn’t you say? On second thought, could I take another pass at that math problem? Great, just want to make sure I did it right, you know? Let’s take a look…what on earth?! This time I got 50—wouldn’t you know it? I guess that means I receive 50, right? It’s a good thing I checked, I almost shorted myself 41, can you imagine? I can’t.

 

You want me to “get lost?” What’s next, I gotta wander out into wilderness untouched by man? Touch it? Let it touch me? Touch myself? That’s it, isn’t it? And when an emergency rescue team drags me back to civilization, what then? Try again? Wear a blindfold? Take the blindfold off so I can drive out to the middle of nowhere at dusk? Put the blindfold back on? Take the blindfold off again because it’s dark anyways? Put the blindfold back on because it’s dark anyways? Touch myself again? Because who said so? You?

 

Let me get this straight, you want me to…wait, what do you want me to do? You want me to get something specific, right? What were we just talking about? Gosh, I’m just so lost right now which happens to be exactly what you wanted, isn’t it?! Aha! You thought you could get in my head, didn’t you? But I caught you, didn’t I? ANSWER ME! TALK, GODDAMMIT! I WANT YOU TO TALK!