At PFN News, we are always interested in letting our readers know as much as possible about our correspondents. To that end, here is the transcript from the employment interview with Steve Dbrockavitch.
PFN: Hello Mr. Dbrockavitch. Are you a communist?
PFN: Good. Now, tell my why you only have one eye. Is it because you love Che Guevara?
Dbrockavitch: Well, I was running with scissors.
PFN: Oh, so you tripped and the hammer and scicle, I mean, scissors went through your eye?
Dbrockavitch: No, I was running with scissors, and I did trip, but the scissors missed my eyes and I landed softly in a stack of pillows on the sidewalk. Some kids across the street were having a BB gun war and a rogue BB flew at my head and …
PFN: Rogue huh? So the Dear Leader put your eye outwith a BB?
Dbrockavitch: No, if you’d shut up and let me finish you flame coon. No, I ducked and the BB hit a guy behind me that was trying to steal a woman’s purse. He fell to his knees in pain and the woman got her purse and held him captive with the scissors I had dropped earlier, and called the police. I continued on my way to my friend’s house to practice with the needle-juggling troupe. Well during practice that day, I had a lapse in my concentration and …
PFN: A needle went through your eye?
Dbrockavitch: For the love of all things, let me finish my story! No, during one section of our routine, I juggle with one hand and play a Star Wars medley on the recorder with the other. Now, for safety purposes, we always load our needles with a harmless substance before juggling. That is, a muscle-relaxer/flu virus/testosterone mixture. In a slight mental lapse, I did miss one of the needles but it reflected off my pocket protector and flew toward the sidewalk where it struck the purse snatcher from before, who was at this point, at full sprint, three steps ahead of pursuing officers. This left the would-be thief in an optimal state of submission. As the police loaded the runny-nosed invalid into the cruiser, he tried his best, with his useless facial muscles, to make a crude comment about one of the female officers. At this point I decided the best thing for me to do was go home and throw some bicycle spokes around with my brother, I had taken too many chances for the day. Well, on my way home a wild cat jumped down and ambushed me from a tree. With the accuracy of a laser guided missile, he made a beeline for my left eye and scratched furiously until my eye was in a state of ruin. I finally managed to remove him from my face before he proceeded to the next eye. I found out later that he landed on the roof of the police car carrying the purse thief and rode all the way to the station where he attacked the prisoner as they took him out of the car.
PFN: So that’s how you lost the eye? Or did you divide it into equal parts and share it with your commrades?
Dbrockavitch: No, I went to the hospital and they installed a donor eye from a giraffe. The next day, I met a harmless looking stranger who offered me a piece of candy which I readily accepted, thinking he should celebrate my new eye installation. Unfortunately, the candy had been coated with a combination muscle-relaxer/flu virus/testosterone solution. I fell to the ground, helpless and a gang of Russian mobsters who specialized in black-market animal trade, walked by and spotted my new giraffe eye. They snatched it from my face and sold it to an Indian mobster for 98.22 million rupees, or $1.29; honor among thieves I suppose.
PFN: Fascinating. One more question Mr. Dbrockavitch. How many times have you written in Chuck Norris’s name for president?
Dbrockavitch: I’ll answer that with another question. How many people have died from a roundhouse kick to the face?
PFN: We’ll have our people call you people right now and see when you can start.