wouldn't leave a Walgreens. Is that right? -checks notes- That can't be right. SLB: No, that's accurate. C: Huh. And you had a DUI arrest. That's not typically a move of geniuses. SLB: No, no. Not too proud about that one. C: And then there's this thing where you were walking around town with a brown paper bag over your head.

You can tell it's him from that faint feeling of dread and unhappiness you get looking at the picture.

SLB: OK, sure. C: What was up with that? Like an arts and crafts thing? Are you still in school? I don't really know how actor school works. You've basically got a second grade education, right? SLB: Hey back off, man. No, it's just that when you get the paparazzi around you all the time, it makes you go a little haywire. That's all. C: That's fair I guess. In high school, I once got into a shouting match with the yearbook guy from Jostens. Same thing I guess. SLB: Sure. Sure. C: I'm all like, "But they're our school colors!" and he's all like, "You can't wear crepe paper and saran wrap in this photo." SLB: Right. C: He's all like, "You can't wear crepe paper and saran wrap EVER." Can you believe that? Like he speaks for all of eternity. SLB: I think I should go. This interview isn't really what I thought it was. C: No wait! You're right, but this is actually a perfect segue. You'll shit when you hear this. Because the point of my interview is that you often don't seem to get how interviews work. SLB: -sits down- That is a pretty good segue. C: Thanks! I'll clarify: You're going into these interviews, where people lob softball questions at you, and you start talking about how the director is a creep, or how much the movie sucks. That's kind of nuts. SLB: I've got an interview disability. I just say what I'm thinking. Don't pull any punches. C: And that's an admirable trait

in some people. That's exactly the kind of quality we like in people who think the same things as we do. But you, quite demonstrably, don't think the same things other people do. SLB: You don't think Michael Bay might be a bit sexist? That doesn't ring true to you? C: Well ... SLB: Or that Indiana Jones 4 kind of sucked? C: I've actually tried to pretend it doesn't exist. SLB: Look, do you really want to know the truth? C: Is this the truth about this little thing, or the truth behind the universe? Because if the whole of humanity and its orifices are being groomed as a toy meant for some Elder Sex-God, I don't really think I want to know that. SLB: No. Wow. No. Just the truth about this little thing. C: Great. Hit me with it. SLB: Who watches these entertainment shows? Like Access Hollywood. Who watches Access Hollywood? C: I don't know what you're ... SLB: People who watch Access Hollywood. C: What? Oh of course. The least important people on Earth. SLB: Exactly. Anyone who pays any measure of attention to anyone in the movie industry is a fool. This is a sucking gunshot wound of an industry, populated by the most vapid beings imaginable, telling the same fucking stories again and again to each other. Nothing we say matters. Nothing we say or do is of any importance at all. Suddenly, a bright light filled the room, blinding me. SLB: What? too far? The light dimmed. I opened my eyes to see a blue column of light, encompassing Shia LaBeouf. He rapidly ascended, passing through the ceiling as if it wasn't there. Seconds passed. Then an alien slowly descended where Shia had exited. My new guest had the classic lines of a typical Hollywood alien, oversized head, long gray face, big black eyes. He was also holding a clipboard, and looked stressed out. Alien: Sorry about that. C: What. A: Sorry about cutting in like that. That whole thing was starting to go off the rails. C: Who are you? Where'd Shia go? A: He's being debriefed right now. C: Debriefed? For what? A: The man you know as Shia LaBeouf is not of your species. We sent him here to conduct research on your film industry. C: I see. A: No, mouth-talker, you probably don't. We need this information because due to a horrendous data-calamity, our home planet lost almost all of its historical records. We need to borrow your expertise in the dramatic arts to recreate our history from the remaining fragments. C: I hope you're comfortable with a heritage filled with wacky black sidekicks and training montages. A: No shit. -shakes head ruefully- Anyways, Shia was supposed to just work behind the scenes, getting bottled water for people's pets, providing ear massages, that sort of thing. But there was some kind of mix-up and he became a star. We think he seduced Spielberg somehow. Rode a flying BMX around his yard or something. C: Uhhhh. A: Anyways, once he became famous, he came down with a case of Earth madness, and has since been threatening to blow the whole project. C: So he was an alien the whole time? And that explains the creepy unlikableness. A: We modified his face and body to appear as normal as possible. As good a job as we could anyways. The technology isn't perfect. A lot of natural humans find it unsettling. C: It was like talking to a colostomy bag.

C: Oh man. -shivers- What will you do with me now that I know? A: What would we do with you? Oh I get it. C: You get what? A: You're asking for an anal probe. No, we don't do that any more. That was kind of a '90s thing. C: Not what I was actually asking, but I am a little insulted that it's not even on the table. No, what I meant is, are you going to stop me from telling the world about Shia? A: We'll replace him with another volunteer shortly. So you know, tell as many people as you want, I guess? See how many people believe you. What is this place anyways? -looks on his clipboard- Cracked? Heh. Yeah, you go blow the lid off this, Edward R. Murrow. Anyways, I have to go. One of our other assets has an audition tomorrow, and needs me to run through her lines with her. C: Renee Zellweger? A: Ahhhhh-ahhhh-ahhh-ahh-ah. Not telling. -gun fingers, winks, floats up through the ceiling in a blue column. __________________________

For more Bucholz, check out Complaints to Domino's That They Didn't Put in Their Ad and The Most Powerful Man in the World: The Voice in Your GPS.

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