Oh the Grief: In Conversation with Ovaltine Goose-Shredder

When I met with PAJ's resident expert Ovaltine Goose-Shredder he was lying facedown on his and his wife's bed, wearing the same clothes he wore to last weeks press conference. The situation was set in the same place it had been three years earlier, the first time I had tried to convince him it wasn't his fault his wife was dead. This time around was dramatically easier, since three years earlier Karen had died because Goose-Shredder blew up their house trying to see how accurate Vince Gilligan's meth recipe was. Now, after a reanimation of her dead body by Goose-Shredder and her subsequent trip to Antarctica, Karen is presumed to be either lost at sea or murdered at the hands of the biometric robocop horde, but either way most certainly dead. The following is a transcript of the conversation I had with Ovaltine Goose-Shredder late Thursday.

Ovaltine Goose-Shredder: [muffled by pillow] Betty. Betty! It happened again.

James Betty: I know.

OGS: [muffled] This pillow still smells like her.

JB: She was a walking corpse, nothing gets that smell out.

OGS: I've washed it so many times.

JB: Maybe try real detergent, instead of that stuff you make in your basement.

OGS: [sitting up] Don't badmouth Sparkle-Time Handy Wash! When the dollar tanks, who's going to make your laundry soap? Because it's not going to be me!

JB: I'm sorry, buddy.

OGS: [slams face back into pillow] I make great soap.

JB: No you don't.

OGS: [muffled] Who's side are you on?

JB: Truth and justice. I'm a journalist, remember?

OGS: [uncontrollable laughter]

JB: Hey....

OGS: [still laughing]

JB: That hurts...

OGS: [still laughing]

JB: Why do people I know laugh when I act like a real journalist?

OGS: Hey... do you remember that thing you thought of that wasn't so sad?

JB: Are you changing the subject away from my career so I'm not so sad?

OGS: ... Yes.

JB: How did that whole sentence not refer to anything specific and still manage to achieve it's goal so well?

OGS: It's called friendship, buddy.

JB: Is it?

OGS: Bring it in.

JB: What?

OGS: [moves in for a hug] Lets hug it out.

JB: Don't come at me like that. Not on your bed...

OGS: [hugging James Betty] Shhhhh, don't fight me.

JB: This is so awkward.

OGS: [still hugging] It's called friendship.

JB: No it's not. Not like this.

OGS: [releases hug] I can't believe my wife's maybe dead again.

JB: It's probably about time you started dropping the maybe from that sentence.

OGS: [slams face into pillow] Noooo!

JB: You need to accept that she's really gone this time, and you can't hang your hopes on re-animation again because she will never be found. I'm sorry. She won't.

OGS: [muffled] She can't be gone again! I let her go to Antarctica and if she's dead again it's all my fault again!

JB: What were you supposed to do, chain her to the dock? You know Karen, if she wanted to go to Antarctica she was going to go to Antarctica. You can't let this one be your fault. Let it be her decision.

OGS: [muffled] Hey Betty, don't take this the wrong way, but how about you fuck off for a while?

JB: That's not very nice, in fact it makes me prefer the awkward hug right now.

OGS: [sitting up, yelling] So fuck off or I'll find another awkward hug for you!

JB: [confused silence]

OGS: [enjoying the silence]

JB: At least you didn't blow her up this time.

OGS: Yeah, I actually feel way better about this one. Small miracles, right?

JB: Not many people know what it's like to accidentally kill their wife for the second time, you should probably write a paper about this.

OGS: [jumping out of bed] I must tell the masses! Find me a pen, I'm going to eat some soup.

JB: I think you just ripped off Hemingway.

So Goose-Shredder is up and about, and that's a good sign. His friends still can't convince him to hold a funeral for Karen, but feel that the baby-steps he's taken in the last few days are encouraging enough.

[Ed. Note: Hemingway did not say “Find me a pen, I'm going to eat some soup.”]