"Interview" subtitles

art by @mui_mmmm
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("Georgia on my Mind"  sung by woman singer)

(applause fx)

(Nightclub sounds)

(footsteps fx, beaded dress sound fx; Listener is walking to backstage dressing room)

(door opens, closes fx)

Alastor ( with regular voice from outside door): Excuse me.

(Listener walks to door and opens it)

Ah, hello! I'm the correspondent from WWL, and I'm here for the 9 pm interview. Here's my card: Alastor Bellivue, at your service.

Aw, you know about me then!

No need to act nervous. While I am the most famous speaking voice in the Gulf Coast, you have the singing pipes.

You're a quickly-rising star in the jazz scene, with invariably sold-out performances, nightly, I might add! Why, no one has garnered such fame so quickly here since Sweet Emma (Barrett).

It definitely helps that you're a dish (attractive woman) with a nice set of gams (legs).

Oh yes, the interview! Gracious, I-I have a bad habit of rambling at times. (door closes fx, Alastor walks into dressing room)

Believe me, I could wax lyrical about the world of entertainment for hours!

May I place this somewhere?

Oof, that's heavy!

Oh, this gadget? It's a telegraphone wire recorder. This way, we can capture the interview in your element, instead of the sterility of the radio station.

I prefer to capture the essence of candidness. The sounds, the sights,  live in the recording!

Have you heard interviews in controlled environments? They're so terribly bland, they're almost fit for funerals. Here, in an uncontrived setting, the machine will grab the sounds and transmit that energy.

Give me a moment to set this monster up.

(working with telegraphone fx) I must say, that was a fantastic performance you did just now. Very flashy.

And that is a beautiful ensemble you're wearing. Seed beads on silk is suck a daring combination. The sheer weight of the beads creates a hypnotizing oscillation on the cloth.

Would you mind doing a spin for me?

Oh, beautiful!

Oh no, you'll do fine, just relax!

 It certainly wasn't easy convincing  my boss to let me use the telegraphone tonight.

He wanted you in the studio, but I persuaded him that this would show WWL's commitment to bringing the real world and news to American households, unlike those amateurs at our rival station WSMB.

There! It's all ready! Now you sit here and speak into this mouthpiece, and I will sit right next to you.

No, no, this is not live. I'll simply play back the recording during my broadcast special, which will highlight you and your meteoric rise to fame.

Calm down, Dear, you're going to do swell.

Take a breath... and let it out.

And here...we...go.

(switches on telegraphone fx, speaking in Transatlantic accent)

Good Evening, and salutations dearest listeners! This is WWL's Alastor Bellivue, coming to you from the Tango Belt in Le Vieux Carré, or the French Quarter (New Orleans).

I am backstage at the Cypress Club, with none other than the "Nightingale of the Mississippi Delta" herself.

Darling, your voice has enraptured the city, and your shows are consistently sold out! I admit, I'm not just an interviewer, but a fan of yours. Tell me, what got you started in the world of entertainment?

Fascinating, you began in Vaudeville! Extraordinary thing that was!

To be in the presence of such a starlet is truly a humbling honor!

Your namesake of the Nightingale is fitting, as your warbles but even that ariose songbird to shame . Would you mind singing a few bars?

Ooh, that sends my heart aflutter!

Ladies and gentlemen, this dressing room in which we sit allows a glimpse into the world the multitude rarely sees. Glittery costumes hanging on one wall, shoes lined up underneath, posters of past entertainers who have graced this club with their talent, a vanity stacked with pots of makeup, and a mirror lit with a dozen bulbs. Oh, if this unassuming space could talk!

Tell me, cher, entertainer to entertainer, how do you fair in this sultry world of glitz and glamour?

Now I'm just repeating what's been said, so no need to kill the messenger,  but I'm sure you've heard that you have been garnering a reputation as of late of... let's say, "ill repute".

Some of those movements you perform onstage would make even the slinkiest of snakes blush.

And those undulations you do... my goodness, I think I now know why New Orleans' nights are so hot and... scorching.

You're no doubt putting your sex appeal to use onstage. Metaphorically, being a Lilith to all those Adams in the room.

Yes, I'm allowed to say such things, since this is an unregulated interview. No sugar-coating here!

Well, I applaud your bravado. It seems around the country women are liberating their sexuality. Quite a refreshing contrast to the self-effacing times of yesteryear.

I mean, you sit here before me... your exposed thighs revealing your garter straps and the welts (tops) of your stockings... and you've not the slightest hint of prudence.

Even your dress... translucent silk, decorated with thousands of tiny glass beads, might be considered hedonistic to some. The slightest breath sends the beads into a cascade of shimmers. It's sure to conjure impure thoughts in even the most pious man.

And the fringe slapping against your buttocks is... inflaming.

But my words are compliments, not flirting. You are bubbling with talent, and I, as an aesthete of the arts, salute your assets.

Darling... I am a professional with my guests. I am not a philanderer. Do you really believe me to be so shallow?

Why yes, I do have an erection. It leaves one wondering why you're looking at my crotch in the first place.

You have a question?

Oh, you want to interview me now? What do you want to know, Dear?

'What's it like being so celebrated in this city'? Oh, it offers a marginally prestigious lifestyle. Adoring fans, rubbing elbows with city officials, and white-tie shindigs that funnily enough, Prohibition can't seem to touch.

Someone not accustomed to such grandiosity might feel intimidated.

My dear... nothing intimidates me.

When I see an opportunity, I jump at it. Strike while the iron's hot, I say. Otherwise, that fortuity will slip right through your fingers.

Go on, ask your next question.

(Listener sliding her foot up his leg fx)

Oh, your foot is gliding up my leg....

(moans and gasps)

You've heard rumors? Like what?

Do I have the most powerful antenna in the Gulf?

Why don't you come sit on my  lap and find out?

You feel it? Feel its power? It's ready to send out a signal. Do you want to receive it?

Oh yes, just put your hips into it.

Let's see what you've got under here. (dress lifting fx) Oh, how bad you are. Do you always perform without your undergarments?

(wets sounds)

You like that, huh? Yeah... you like me finger fucking you? How about more?

Why don't you sing for me? Come on, cher, sing for me!

Hold on! (undoing belt and zipper fx) Here's something girthier. Why don't you try it on for size?

(Listener lifts up dress and sits on his antenna)

Get a good drip on my shoulders. Wrap your legs around my waist. Okay, okay, and up we go!

(kissing, grunting, gasping, wet sounds, beaded dress) Yes, this is quite atypical for an interview, but damn, I like it!

Look at yourself in the mirror. Go on, look! That's the face of a star, a star who will do anything to advance her career... even act like a common trollop!

You sing for strangers... sing for me! Sing for me like you're in a heavenly choir!

To Hell if someone hears you! Let them! Let that scream tear from your lungs and rend the air!

Are you my nasty little Jezebel? Say it... say you're a Jezebel who loves my cock stuffed in you!

You want me to pummel you faster? Why don't you grovel, like the starved floozy you are?

Yeah, yeah, moan just like that! Give into how good I feel inside you!

Oh, excellent, Darling. I didn't know you could make that sound.

But there's more where that came from.

You want me to bring you to climax again? Say how good I am. Say I'm the best you've ever had.

Say it! Say it! Say I'm the best you ever had, you... you... easy... tart!

(regular voice again) Good lord!

(kissing)

I got you, put your legs down. (Listener puts feet on ground again)

What? You got lipstick on my mouth? Let me see? Well, at least it's a nice shade. I think it suits me! Let me wipe it off.

And while I'm at it, I should wipe myself off.

Here, you might benefit from a tissue.

I do hope we didn't ruin your dress.

(zips up fly and buckling belt buckle)

Oh, shit, you're right, the telegraphone's still recording.

No, I don't think I can broadcast such smut. I'd definitely be out of a job. (Alastor walks over and rummages for new wire).

Oh good, I have another spool of wire to make a new recording. This gem we just made will regretfully never see the light of day.

Let me set this all up again. (installing new wire spool)

Yes, you are an exemplary guest, completely unfiltered. This might not interest you, but the governor is coming down from Baton Rouge this weekend for the mayor's annual charity ball.

How would you like to be on my arm that night? I can introduce you to all sorts of bigwigs.

Oh, simply grand! It'll definitely cause quite a stir to see the Golden Voice and the Nightingale hanging onto each other.

I do hope you're prepared for yet even more tabloid exploitation!

Okay! The wire's ready now. Let's try this again with a little less... authenticity.

(switch fx)

(Transatlantic accent) Good Evening and salutations, dearest listeners. This is WWL's Alastor Bellivue, coming from you in the Tango Belt, in Le Vieux Carré, or the French Quarter. With me we have the Nightingale of the Mississippi Delta herself, none other than Miss...