When Parallelogram stumbled upon an interview with KingCharlesII, the editor of The Herald of the Underworld, and Kuku, a well-known and distasteful street personality, in the newspaper's latest edition, he was both shocked and confused. He had always admired KingCharlesII and his work, but he did not completely trust him. And as for Kuku, Parallelogram could not stand the thought of him being given any kind of platform or attention.

Despite his misgivings, Parallelogram found himself drawn to the interview. He was curious to see what KingCharlesII and Kuku had to say, and he hoped that he might be able to glean some insight or understanding from their words.

As he read the interview, Parallelogram was struck by the contrasting perspectives and personalities of the two men. KingCharlesII was cool and collected, his responses measured and thought-provoking. Kuku, on the other hand, was brash and aggressive, his words dripping with venom and resentment.

Despite his dislike for Kuku, Parallelogram found that he could not look away from the interview. It was like a car crash, he thought to himself, something that was both terrible and fascinating at the same time.

In the end, Parallelogram decided to keep the interview for posterity. He carefully tore the article out of the newspaper and pinned it to the wall of his apartment, where he would later attach pins and red string to it, linking various events together in a peculiar pattern. He knew that it was a strange and unusual gesture, but he felt that the interview was something special, something that he wanted to keep close by for reference and contemplation.

"@Parallelogram - could we interview you for The Herald of the Underworld?"

When Parallelogram received the invitation to be interviewed by KingCharlesII, the editor of The Herald of the Underworld, he was both excited and nervous. He had always admired KingCharlesII's work and the way he was able to shed light on important issues and stories. At the same time, he was wary of the power and influence that KingCharlesII had, and he knew that he needed to be careful about what he said and how he presented himself.

As he weighed the pros and cons of being interviewed, Parallelogram found himself feeling torn. On the one hand, he knew that this was a rare and potentially valuable opportunity to share his thoughts and experiences with a wider audience given the large readership of the newspaper. On the other hand, he was nervous about being scrutinized and judged, and he was not sure if he was ready to put himself in the spotlight in this way.

In the end, Parallelogram decided to go ahead with the interview. He figured that he had nothing to lose, and he hoped that the experience would help him to grow and learn. He would try to focus on being honest and authentic, and he hoped that his message would be received in the way that he intended it.

"Ok, KingCharlesII, we can do that!" He says with a confidence he didn't entirely feel. 

@Parallelogram - thank you.  Sadly, it's likely that murdering scum will end this life of this journalist, so please contact LiquidFareham for the interview.

Whilst you're here, do you happen to know who killed LostBoy?

As KingCharlesII mentioned the interview, right there in the street, Parallelogram found himself becoming increasingly confused and uneasy. He was not sure what to make of KingCharlesII's strange and cryptic comments about being killed soon, and he found himself wondering what was really going on.

When KingCharlesII asked him about the LostBoy situation, Parallelogram felt a sense of panic and alarm wash over him. He had absolutely no desire to get involved in this situation, and he knew that he needed to find a way to safely extricate himself from the interview.

Taking a deep breath, Parallelogram tried to compose himself. He knew that he needed to be careful and strategic if he was going to get out of this situation unscathed.

"I'm sorry, KingCharlesII," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "But I really don't feel comfortable discussing the LostBoy situation. It's a sensitive and complex issue, and I don't feel qualified to speak about it. Can we please move on to a different topic?"

To Parallelogram's relief, KingCharlesII seemed to understand. He nodded and moved on to a different topic, and Parallelogram breathed a sigh of relief. Despite the tension and unease of the situation, he was proud of himself for standing his ground and negotiating his way out of an uncomfortable and potentially dangerous situation.

KingCharlesII this is absolutely unacceptable. The interview with Kuku was promised to 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℍ𝔸ℝ𝕆𝕃𝔻, to ME.
You thief, you rogue, you absolute scoundrel.

YOU STOLE MY BIG SCOOP

We both know how interviewees are a very scarce commodity in these trying times where the contempt for journalism is at an all time high and where we are threatened on the daily.

The number of times I have been refused an interview is getting absurdly high, I'm getting to the point where I'd even settle for interviewing Grool.

To have you steal my interviewees on top of that is a harsh blow to 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℍ𝔸ℝ𝕆𝕃𝔻.

THIS CANNOT CONTINUE

I was going to offer you and The Herald the chance to form a Union of Journalists to protect our rights, safety and interests but alas, no more.

Instead I am hereby offering you a one-time chance of righting this wrong via a settlement payment of $42,000,000.

If this demand is not met, then instead I will declare a non-violent Journalistic Holy War on 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℍ𝔼ℝ𝔸𝕃𝔻 in the name of 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℍ𝔸ℝ𝕆𝕃𝔻.

HOWEVER

Regardless on my opinions on how the right-to-interview was obtained, I am forced to concede that it was pretty good, 4 out of 5.

Grool hears his name said with some disdain coming from outside a building nearby, quite the depilated thing.

You will need to lower the bar even further than a simple wise guy like myself

Grool could quite make the sign in the building, some letters are missing and the grim and dirty almost entirely covered it. He steps up to the doorframe and looks around what seemed to be an interview room and to his surprise when it's full of mirrors.

I believe I have seen enough

Gives a nod to LiquidFareham as a show of respect for the button he wears, and walks down the street in search of a new eatery for a luncheon. 
 

Harold looked up from the latest edition and glanced at Squirrel, "I believe its called a newspaper. Broadsheet. Tabloid. Rag." the old wizened man said before giving him a cheeky wink. "Personally I'm delighted not only that we're getting a steady stream of information, but if you take it with a healthy few grams of doubt it is rather entertaining as well." Harold said. 

"And I'll admit I was right chuffed when I learned one of the papers had been named after me." The aged man held up a hand, "Won't hear a word about it, I am older than the hills your mother calls breasts, and thus I am correct that it is named after me." 

Squirrel, I see your pain. I hear your pain.  Speak your truth, son 

Who's this cheapskate, anonymous, semi-literate buffoon?  The joke is on this moron, as the interviewer and the interviewee conclusively put to bed any notion that they were one and the same.  Ask LiquidFareham, or Spoon, or Grool.  Any one of them could be Kuku.

Why would a narcissist interview himself? Whats next, a reaction vidoe of him watching him interview himself? Grow up!

I wish the Leader of the Streets, JB, would hear my anguish, my pain, and see that it is the Streets that suffer when journalists are murdered.

KingCharlesII, I don’t care. I’m not the leader of the streets and I don’t particularly care that you keep getting murdered because of your own mouth. Leave me out of your issues.

Well, who is the Leader of the Streets?  And EVERYONE should care about journalists being murdered.

They will come for the writers next, you mark my words.

"Any one of them could be Kuku."  

Grool hears a whisper in the wind, and he faintly can just make out the words spoken by the so-called fictional writer(s).
Finds it hard to follow the logic of these words. Grool opens his mouth to speak, but words fail to come out of his mouth, he is dumbfounded.
A bright ray of sunshine hits his face from the reflection of the many mirrors inside the building in front of him, which just jolts him awake and causes Grool to just blur out his thoughts.

You would know who he is, it's your interview after all! Am I missing something? 

Grool asks no one, in particular, as he walks away he thinks to himself -- Seems some lessons are hard to learn... must be in the genes. Was always an advocate of nurture vs nature, but some blood is just bad through and through. --

Well, who is the Leader of the Streets?  And EVERYONE should care about journalists being murdered.

They will come for the writers next, you mark my words.

Though officially I am in a newspaper holy war with him, I am forced to admit KingCharlesII's words ring true (except that part before about me potentially being kuku).

First they murder the journalists
Then they slay competitive writers
Then they annihilate the casual storytellers
Then they annihilate the complacent commenters

Maybe, just maybe, this is why so few leaders decide to come to the streets anymore. It has become a safety hazard to do so.

I AM VERY SCARED

And so, we see, another journalistic

Casualty

Why?

We ask

Do they kill reporters

And stunt their journalistic capacity?

When Parallelogram heard LiquidFareham's view that there was a threat to annihilate casual storytellers, he was immediately filled with fear and anxiety. He had always been a casual storyteller himself, and the thought of being targeted by someone as ruthless and powerful as the “they” LiquidFareham himself was terrified of, was enough to send shivers down his spine.

Parallelogram knew that LiquidFareham was a prominent journalist, thought by some to be Kuku, but he had never been convinced. Still, the thought that Kuku, or someone like him, could be embroiled in this threat was enough to make Parallelogram even more scared.

As he listened to LiquidFareham's words, Parallelogram found himself feeling more and more uneasy. He knew that he was no match for someone like “they”, or even LiquidFareham, and he had no idea how he would be able to protect himself or the people he cared about.

Despite his best efforts, Parallelogram found that he could not shake the feeling of fear that had settled in the pit of his stomach. He felt vulnerable and exposed, and he knew that he would have to be careful if he wanted to stay safe.

As he tried to calm his racing thoughts and to come up with a plan, Parallelogram knew that he had a tough road ahead of him. But even as he faced the unknown, he was determined to stand up for what he believed in and to do whatever it took to protect himself and the people he cared about.