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Interviews From Across The Stars: Reba Haws Interviews Black Jack Hannigan

Announcer: Well, it looks like our intrepid interviewer has come out of retirement. After spinning around the world with Inspector Flaatphut and Tiffany Grace Lewurt, our Miss Reba Haws is back, this time setting up her own station with the help of some unnamed investors. She assures us that her previous experiences, not to mention her adventures with Inspector Flaatphut, have left her far more prepared for the sorts of interviews that she tends to get.


So join us now in her new hyper-max military-grade secure studio for an entirely new set of interviews. Today, we start with someone from the Earth of Cyberdawn. Robert “Black Jack” Hannigan, a no-nonsense cop who is on the run from what he calls “terrors of the night”.



Reba Haws: … So security is in place? Auto-cannons, the whole bit? …It’s not paranoia if it happens to me on a regular– Oh, how long has that ‘On The Air’ sign been on?


(Miss Haws quickly fixes her hair, puts her slightly-illegal 45-caliber on the table between her and her new guest, then begins with a smile.)


RH: Welcome back to Interviews From Across The Stars– We’re newly reorganized, with some entirely new backers, and extra security measures. For instance, this row of buttons next to me? If someone in this studio does something I don’t like, they get a nice electric charge up their spine.


Black Jack: Sounds like my kind of lady.


RH: And that would be my first new guest. Robert ‘Black Jack’ Hannigan.

BJ: Just call me Black Jack. Say, how secure is this place anyway? Have you checked the insides of your computers? That’s how they spy on you, you know.


RH: Let’s begin there. According to you, there are people infiltrating the world.


BJ: The People, with a capital ‘P’. They’re every horrible creature you’ve ever heard of, all of them in on it. Trying to take over our world.


(Black Jack is constantly glancing around over his shoulder, eyeing our sound-booth guy through the glass, then his gaze settles on Miss Haws’ gun.)


BJ: That won’t be enough, you know. It’s a good start, but you need something with a lot more kick to it. Some of the things I’ve seen could eat that little toy.


RH (looking blandly back at him): You’d be surprised at some of the things that I’ve seen. There’s an auto-cannon guarding this studio, about 5 amps of current flowing through the door into this room just in case any thing wants to interrupt us, this table between us is made from the wood of some old saint’s coffin and has a protective pentagram carved into its underside, and I have some Green Berets as my security team. I’ve seen stuff too.


(Black Jack leans in closer, a snarl on his lips)


BJ: Winged demon cats that can eat a 45 slug at a three-foot range.


RH (meeting his gaze): An insane maniacal lycanthrope that loves pain.


BJ: Oh, is that the way it’s going to be, is it? Well then…wizards are real.


RH: You want to see the ones in my rolodex?


BJ: And elementals.


RH: One of those wizards turned me into a News Elf and drove me insane for a while.


BJ: You think you’ve been insane? But that’s the only way to keep out of their control. Werewolves, elementals, vampires, faeries, voodoo priestesses, I’ve seen it all.


RH: I’ve had psychic sex with one of my guests and been turned into a nymph by another. Next?


BJ: Okay, I didn’t want to pull out the big guns, but… (looks over his shoulder again) I’ve seen these creatures eatsomeone while they were still alive.


RH: I was someone’s pet dragon for a while… though I can see how seeing someone being eaten alive trumps that. Okay, you win.


(Black Jack sits back with a satisfied grin)


BJ: Like I said, the things that are out there would curl your hair. But you’re not too bad yourself. How’d you like to join my little group to uncover what’s behind the big conspiracy these creatures are cooking up?


(Black Jack leans in with a mad look. Reba calmly picks up her gun, cocks and aims it straight at him.)


RH: Sorry, but I’ve had enough trouble with these interviews. I’m not messing around anymore. Nothing personal, you understand, but the second I see you growing a body part you shouldn’t have, I’m blowing your head off.


(Black Jack nods appreciatively)


BJ: Very good. You certainly have the right attitude. Just remember, don’t trust anything. They’re everywhere, could be anyone. The only chance we have is if Rebecca can develop the tech we need to take them on. Assuming there’s enough time left, that is. If they ever get that Eye open, we’re cooked.


(Reba places her gun carefully back down on the table, though her gaze is not leaving a direct line with Black Jack.)


RH: That would be Doctor Rebecca Winter, if I’m not mistaken. Why don’t we go there. What sorts of weapons is she trying to develop?


BJ: I can’t say; the walls might have ears.


RH: Actually, lips at one point.


BJ: Besides, you might not–


(Miss Haws looks bored as she next replies)


RH: Oversized hand-cannons, perhaps? Maybe with or without magic runes? I’m telling you, I’ve seen everything on this show.


(At this point a loud explosion sounds from outside, along with a deep rumbling. Black Jack jumps up to stand on his chair, now with a large caliber-pistol in each hand.)


BJ: They’re here! They’ve found out where I am. Or, maybe you told them?


(Miss Haws calmly presses one of the buttons on her desk, the result being a distant scream from down the corridor.)


RH: That was for the guy at the reception desk. He knows he’s not supposed to let anyone in that doesn’t look human. Kill on sight orders. Now, for my next question–


BJ: No time! They’re probably tracking down my friends as we speak. If you’re smart, you’ll find a sewer someplace to hide out in.


(Black Jack leaps off the chair charging for the door, shoots out the lock, then kicks it open before screaming out into the hallway beyond.


BJ: Hyram! Anya! Get the War Wagon warmed up, we’re going out of here hot!


(Black Jack charges out, leaving a broken door behind him and the sounds of growing combat echoing from down the hall. Seconds later the sound of Black Jack’s own thunder-pistols joins in with the fray. Miss Haws remains nonplused.)


RH: Well, that interview ended relatively tamely.


(Miss Haws presses another button and calmly speaks into the intercom.)


RH: Activate the land mines in section three. I don’t care what’s out there, I’ve been to the looney bin one too many times to mess around. Oh, and tell Alice up in Programming that she’s fired. Never mind, I’ll tell her.


(Whereupon Miss Haws presses another button and the sound of a woman screaming comes from somewhere past the outside hallway.)


RH: Well, this has been another Interview From Across The Stars, featuring the first of several stars from the world of Cyberdawn. Until later, if you’re going to get anything done, do it yourself.


(Miss Haws picks up her pistol; shrugs into a bullet proof vest hanging on the coat rack behind her, then marches fearlessly out into the hallway shooting off her pistol ahead of her.)


RH: Okay you walking nightmares, I’ve been through things a lot worse than you!


(As Miss Haws goes charging out into the fight, we are left wondering just where in her recent travels she picked up that commando training. Apparently she is not the timid soul she started out as.)


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