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The Protagonist Speaks

Interviews with the characters of your favourite books

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Comedy

Liam Baxter (of The Devil’s Finger, by Sandra Bond)

Dear readers, tonight we bring you an alternative view point — that of the antagonist. He brings us a unique perspective on the world of stand-up comedy, and that of shapeshifting cryptids and catastrophes, and carpet warehouses that make for a witty supernatural thriller.

Tell us a little about where you grew up. What was it like there?

Born and brought up in the Thames Valley in southern England. I shan’t name the town, or I might turn this whole interview into a screed of hate for growing up in a small town when the big city is right on the horizon and you yearn for it but you’re too young.

Did you have any favourite toys as a child? Any cherished memories?

I had a ton of toys. In fairness, my folks were pretty decent; my dad had a good job at Heathrow Airport, my mum didn’t have to work, no brothers or sisters so I got all the attention. I’ve always liked attention. Whether that’s because my parents gave me so much, or whether my parents gave me so much because I craved it, I honestly don’t know. Anyway, I got into acting as a teen, and won a scholarship to drama school, which with my folks’ money was just enough to let me attend. Sadly, I soon found out that most actors and most people in entertainment are massive jerks, and often bent to boot.

Bent?

In every sense of the word. Don’t play the innocent! You know what I mean, mate.

I suppose I do. What do you do now?

You know that too, but I guess I’d better go into detail. I run TheStagedoorJohnny.com – the nonpareil website for British show biz gossip. When I finished drama school I knew I could never be a performer myself, but I’d made a good many contacts and I figured I could use them. And that’s what I’ve been doing all my adult life. Along with ancillary stuff like articles for the red-top tabloids, the odd hasty show biz biography, that kind of thing.

What can you tell us about your latest adventure?

I always have plenty of irons in the fire, but I guess you want to know what I’m prying into right now. Well, you know Jemima Charfield? The fat comedian, who was married to Chaz Singleton out of the Omega Mice? Yeah, her. She bust up with her manager pretty spectacularly not long ago. In public; Jemima’s as bad as Chaz for making public scenes. Her manager, Eddie, isn’t the kind to forgive, or give mercy fucks, but all of a sudden they’re best buddies again, and something stinks to high heaven. I want to know what’s going on, there. I’m convinced there’s a story for my site to be unearthed; a big story.

Continue reading “Liam Baxter (of The Devil’s Finger, by Sandra Bond)” →
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Morag Murray and Rod Campbell (of Oddjobs, by Heide Goody and Iain Grant)

Dear readers, tonight we print a psychiatric assessment of the two protagonists from a novel we loved. With their job entailing rescuing the world from other-dimensional horrors on a weekly basis, it’s no wonder they need regular psych evals.

Assessor: What’s your name?

Morag: You don’t know my name?

Assessor: You’ve been through a traumatic incident. We want to assess your mental state. Just give us some details — name, where you’re from — that sort of thing.

Morag: They do this to you, Rod?

Rod: Oh, aye. Every time I go toe to toe with an unspeakable horror from another dimension.

Morag: [huffs] Fine. Morag Murray. I’m from Inverness, Scotland. I moved down to Birmingham at the beginning of this week. A promotion of sorts.

Assessor: Of sorts?

Morag: There were some problems in the Edinburgh office. I pissed off the wrong god. You know how you can sometimes say the wrong thing at the wrong time?

Assessor: A social faux pas.

Morag: Exactly, except this one involved a shotgun and the face of a demi-god. Both barrels.

Assessor: But you now work in the Birmingham office?

Morag: Correct. Birmingham consular mission to the Venislarn. You’ve got a city full of demons and faceless terrors, all under the surface. We’re just here to keep them happy and tucked out of sight.

Assessor: How has your first week on the job been?

Morag: [considers the state of her clothes] Well, I’m covered head to toe in a thick layer of chocolate. I wasn’t expecting that when I started the week.

Rod: You fight with a god in a chocolate factory, there’s gonna be some chocolate, right?

Morag: I see you survived the night without a delicious chocolate coating.

Rod: One of the first things they taught us in the SAS: how to avoid getting covered in chocolate.

Assessor: Your first week…?

Morag: Let’s see. Is this some sort of test to see if a fight with Zildrohar Cqulu has given me concussion? Er… I pretty much hit the ground running this week. That’s one of my key strengths. I can adapt to new situations quickly.

Rod: You mean you rush in without thinking about things.

Morag: Hey. I’m impulsive. But that can be a good thing.

Rod: Oh, aye. If you hadn’t flung yourself in, we’d never have caught that Kervy Aldo character.

Morag: Kerrphwign-Azhal.

Rod: Right. Kermit Ascot.

Morag: Kerrphwign-Azhal.

Rod: As I said…

Assessor: Who is Kerfin Edsel?

Rod: Curtain Aswad.

Morag: Kerrphwign-Azhal. A god. A little one. A godling.

Rod: A giant vampiric starfish. We chased him halfway across the city. He eats virgins’ hearts and was feeling peckish.

Continue reading “Morag Murray and Rod Campbell (of Oddjobs, by Heide Goody and Iain Grant)” →
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Cora (of Grim, by Gavin McCallion)

Dear readers, tonight with me is a young woman, with a unique heritage.

With two dads and a year she was locked up in a basement and forced to practice her music, she has a very intriguing tale to tell.

Tell us a little about where you grew up. What was it like there?

Hey, I’m Cora, I’m nineteen and excellent. I’m from a little, angry, wet island called Wilson’s Well. It never stops raining and everything is grey. It’s a population of workmen, cafes and pubs. We’re all just getting by.

Living there is miserable for people who aren’t – well – umbrella salesfolk, I guess.

That seems harsh; the Well isn’t so bad. It’s just not great.

Did you have any favourite toys as a child? Any cherished memories?

Favourite toys? I don’t think so. I was a loud kid with some hyperactivity issues. I never settled down with toys. I was doomed to be a musician. Way before I can remember, I pulled a whole load of pots and pans out of a cupboard and hit them as hard as I could until my dad came to shut me up. He’s since told me how brutally hungover he was that day and that he ‘felt like chucking me out the window.’ I heard that story so much growing up it must’ve subconsciously forced me into drums. Parents fuck you up.

What can you tell us about your latest adventure?

Oh man. Right. You ready? I got black-out drunk one night – which was my brand at the time – and woke up in a basement with four other incredible musicians. With me? Cool. So, there was this ridiculous, eight-foot-tall cyborg who kept us there under orders from a lunatic in tartan trousers who needed the best musicians in Wilson’s Well to perform at his “Gala” where he planned to blow everything up. This guy is an A-grade prick, just FYI. His name is Judge Rabbit. Elsewhere, Judge Rabbit, who is responsible for electing the honest-to-God GRIM REAPER for our island, fucks up and brings my real dad – who I didn’t know about – back from the dead to do the job. He gets help from my step-dad, who I thought was my real dad, and they go on an adventure to rescue me. But they’re both incredibly useless men and the crap they go through to get anywhere near me is straight-up bananas.

So, yeah. That’s my most recent adventure. Continue reading “Cora (of Grim, by Gavin McCallion)” →

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