"Almost Green"

"Między nami dobrze jest"

Lights,

Camera,

Cut.

A bright stage in the middle of an unnamed, unimportant recording studio wakes from its fifteen minute slumber, the time it takes for guests to change in between interviews. An unremarkably unkempt man takes his designated seat, which still appears to be warm from the Ursine ori-baron’s rear, who threw a tantrum before storming off-camera. His interlocutor, an equally uninteresting newscast straddles a poor chair in front. Her hair is perfectly inoffensive, which nicely matches the neutral suit she’s wearing. Before addressing the man of the hour, she makes sure to stuff any price tags still dangling from her clothes deep into their respective pockets and sleeves. The man in front could start speaking now, he could speak without being asked. He could speak from a piece of paper he had prepared earlier, or he could speak from the camera lens, which displays an endless stream of perfectly inoffensive phrases and topics, which the viewers enjoy very much. The man could even put on a recording of himself speaking about what he had for breakfast and no one would bat an eye.

NEWSCAST: The loudest man in all of Lungmen, dear viewers. Ladies and gentlemen, everything besides and in between, I present to you, the shining star of Columbian rock, foreign, yet our very own. 

Bright stage lights close in on the man, putting him on display like a pretty animal in a zoo. He is, however, a human, not a beast, thus will not bite any fingers forcefully trying to slide underneath his clothes after the interview. He does not speak, because a question had not yet been asked.

NEWSCAST: Mr. Nuffer, I’d like to start off by congratulating you on your latest performance. It was very loud.

VICTIM: It was loud, yes.

Gasps of awe and murmurs laced with admiration sound all across the studio. The invisible audience finds the sound of the man's voice more interesting than his words.

NEWSCAST: How do you do it, Mr. Nuffer? How do you always keep it this loud?

VICTIM: I can only thank my sound crew. They always know what knobs to twist and which buttons to press to make it as loud as possible. They control my pedal boards, so that my guitar always sounds good. And loud. It needs to sound very loud. I can also thank my dear fans for attending. Their excitement really cranks the loudness up to eleven. I love it when they brawl. I like seeing blood spilling in the mosh pit, because it makes me feel nice and safe on top of the stage. I like feeling safe.

NEWSCAST: That is definitely one way to keep it loud.

The audience laughs in a very obnoxious manner. A couple bouquets of roses are thrown towards the bleak woman, which she doesn't react to. The flower stems are wet and sticky and remain glued to the newcast’s face. She lets them slide down her boring suit on their own.

NEWSCAST: Mr. Nuffer, I heard about a recent scandal involving one of your band members. The drummer, Lars Behler, is that correct?

VICTIM: I suppose. I did not know the man’s name. It is, however, very scandalous, the thing he did. 

NEWSCAST: And what DID he do?

The audience holds their breath. They were very excited, though they did not know the drummer’s name either.

VICTIM: I don’t know. As I said, I did not know the man.