But the story you're about to read is an example of that species of short stories so short they usual don't exceed single digits in pages. Hope you enjoy it!
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“Now Mr. Tung,
I’m sure you know why you are here...”
“'Course I do,
small cramped room, smelly metal walls, and you staring a hole in me, this is a
magazine interview, obviously.”
“Very amusing,
Mr. Tung; but unfortunately this is the much more serious kind of interview.”
“Hunting
Quarterly?”
“I am surprised
really, Mr. Tung, at your flippancy, I’d of though the handcuffs would stopper
your, unique, attitude.”
“Stress always
makes me smile.”
“I think we’ve
had enough of this repartee, Mr. Tung, so getting down to business, are you or
are you not going to answer my questions?”
“You haven’t
given me much time to think this through.”
“You are chained
to a chair, Mr. Tung; overall comfort is the least of our concern…”
“I’ll keep that
in mind. But yes, I’ll go with you on the questions, though I can’t promise
satisfactory answers, mind.”
“We can iron out
any discrepancies after the initial interview.”
“You don’t do
casual conversation well, do you?”
“That isn’t our
policy, no, Mr. Tung, and now we’re going to record, and the questions will
start.”
“I’ve always
wanted to be studied closely.”
“Your full name
is Antonin Draco Tung, is that correct?”
“I know that’s
standard procedure, but it kind of hurts.”
“Answer simply
and to the question, or you will be reprimanded, Mr. Tung.”
“Alright then,
yes.”
“You are 19
years old?”
“Yes.”
“And you are the
biological son of Miranda Dorkus Tung and Thomas Fafnir Tung, both deceased…ten
years ago?”
“Yes…”
“Good; now,
concerning the crimes.”
“Yes?”
“Do you admit to
them being the reason for your confinement and this mandatory interview?”
“Remind me what
I did again, it’s slipped my mind.”
“Breaking and
entering into private space but, furthermore, assault and battery on the
inhabitant.”
“What was the
guy’s name? I’d like to thank him for false accusations.”
“Your victim was
one Fabian Intendo, resident of #56 Maroon Rd. which you entered illegally early
last night, and attacked Mr. Intendo, severely injuring him.”
“Did I break his
arm or something? My eyes were closed at the time.”
“He was found
severely contused and with seven fractured ribs, Mr. Tung, and I’m afraid denial
won’t fit, as he made a positive ID on you twice over in the hospital.”
“Seriously
speaking, haven’t you ever heard the word ‘lying’?”
“Why would he lie,
no reason, from my point of view.”
“Yes, and from
what I can tell, your point of view wouldn’t span a gnat’s—”
“Your
frustration doesn’t fit well into your innocence.”
“I didn’t attack
anyone, much less him!”
“In short, you
deny the charges?”
“I’d do it at
length, but you seem to prefer the short, ping-pong conversation.”
“Then that’s a ‘yes’.
Very well, this interview has gone far enough fruitlessly. You will admit to
your guilt, or I will have you forcefully detained and interrogated much less
comfortably and far more forcefully!”
“I thought you’d
snap sooner or later. Send in the next cop to try and squeeze a confession out
of me.”
“Alright, blow
this. Let’s be frank, Mr. Tung, you are
facing life imprisonment at this charge, and if your previous offenses come through,
even death row, so, please, can you drop the tough talk, I feel like I’m on
CSI.”
“Hmm, your shell
cracked a little more than hairline there, judge, do I see a personality
revealed behind that magnificent façade?”
“Do you realize
your literally digging your own grave by continuing on like this?”
“I think you’ve
said that, albeit in different words, about five times in this interrogation;
so far. Come on, go for six.”
“Mr. Tung—”
“Call me
Antonin, might as well get to know each other better.”
“Mr. Tung, do
you except and realize the charges and end possibilities of those charges if
you are found guilty?”
“Back to the Q&A?
Alright then, and yeah, I got all that.”
“Good, then, do
you plead ‘innocent’ and ask for a court showing, or ‘guilty’ with the aforementioned
consequences?”
“Lemme see, I
was charged with breaking windows, kicking a guy in the ribs—ah--severely
injuring him, sorry. But what are my previous
offenses, I can’t remember much more than a few parking tickets and a few
misunderstandings with a mime in the park…you see, when he was in that
invisible box—”
“You were
charged with drunken behavior in a bar ten years ago, where you injured several
customers, all of whom charged you with assault, which does not support your
denial of the attack on Mr. Intendo.”
“Oh yeah,
that--and oh yeah him, too--When do I get to see my victim? I’d like to speak
to him…”
“As I mentioned
before, he is currently recovering in the hospital, where he is still accusing
you in particular of his assault and the destruction of his belongings.”
“So, all in all
I’m gonna be garroted if I don’t go to court for something I didn’t do.”
“Is that a
statement or a question, Mr. Tung?”
“It’s a statement
of fact and a question concerning the stability of our justice system, which seems
a tad shaky from my point of view.”
“Very well;
under the law, due to your pleading of ‘not guilty’—”
“Didn’t exactly plead…”
“—you will be
assigned a court case and number, and when your number is called you will
repeat your case against the assaulted Mr. Intendo, who we will allow two weeks
to recover sufficiently to appear in court, where the final ruling will be
decided by an impartial jury. Do you agree to this action?”
“Well, my hands
are tied, aren’t they? They’re actually handcuffed, but never mind. Yes, I
think those terms will do just fine. Do I get to choose my lawyer?”
“The judicial
authority will assign you a defending lawyer.”
“Ixnay on that,
then…”
“Our business is
at an end, Mr. Tung, you will appear in court in two weeks time or possibly
later, which will be the…15th of February. Thank you for your
cooperation.”
“You’re very welcome,
but I never got your name, I’d like to have something to think on in my cell.
What is it?”
Standing up, the
interrogator turned halfway towards the room’s door, then turned back,
deciding.
“My name is
Watson, Mr. Tung, James Watson Jr.”
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