Recently I had the chance to sit down with one of my favorite actors:  the bad ass himself Samuel L. Jackson.  Of all the interviews  I’ve done this was the one I was most excited about.  Unfortunately the experience didn’t turn out quite as I wanted.

MI:  Mr. Jackson I thank you for meeting with me.  I’ve been following your career for years.

SLJ:  Say what motherfucker?

MI:  Um.  I’ve been following you – 

SLJ:  Following me?  What for? To lynch me motherfucker?

MI:  Okay, onto the first question.  You were recently quoted as saying – 

SLJ:  Look, all brothers don’t know how to shoot guns you racist motherfucker!

MI:  What?  Okay let’s backtrack.  What do –

SLJ:  We’re going to help ourselves.  And who do we not want to help us?  White people!

MI:  You’re just quoting lines from Die Hard with a Vengeance. 

SLJ:  Oh now that’s low.  Even for a white motherfucker like you.

MI:  If you don’t mind can you watch your language.

SLJ:  You don’t understand you cracker motherfucker.  I have to say motherfucker.  I have a copyright on the word.  Every time I say motherfucker I get paid.  You understand motherfucker?

MI:  Moving along.  Let’s talk about your daughter.  She is a producer for a sports channel – 

SLJ:  The motherfucker!

MI:  Right. Okay.  Let’s get back to the original question I was going to ask  you.  You recently said that it’s pretty obvious that the tea party is racist.

SLJ:  That’s right motherfucker.  You  know what else is racist?

MI: No. What?

SLJ:  Vowels.  Vowels are racist motherfucker.

MI:  But you’re using vowels now talking to me.

SLJ:  That’s because I hate myself motherfucker.

MI:  I’m going to go now.

SLJ:  Hey, hey, hey, hey.  I ain’t your partner.  I ain’t your neighbor, your brother or your friend. I’m your total stranger.

MI:  It was a pleasure meeting you.

SLJ:  Pay  me motherfucker!

MI:  What?

SLJ:  I said pay me.  Do you know how many times I’ve said motherfucker in this interview?  You owe me $10,000.  Motherfucker.  $15,000.

And here the interview ended.  I distracted Mr. Jackson by asking him a riddle about going to St. Ives and meeting a man with seven wives.   As he was trying to solve the riddle I ran away.

If any of my readers should happen to see Mr. Jackson please pay him.  The motherfucker scares me.

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