Q. 

Failure? I’M a failure? I won the French Open when I was seventeen years old. Have you ever won the French Open?

Q.

Shut up and answer my question. Seriously. Have you participated in a tennis tournament at Roland Garros, at the end of which tournament you were handed a giant metal cup which you then raised above your head to the raucous cheers of countless thousands and to the heartfelt joy of even more millions around the globe?

Q.

No, I didn’t think so. Failure? FAILURE? What are you, like 40? What have you ever done?

Q.

Yeah, I’m sure. What kind of endorsements do you have? Huh? What, did effing shift-8 give you an endorsement to use its product so you have to say “sh*t” instead of “shit”? Is that what happened? Listen. I haven’t paid for clothing since 1988, savvy? I haven’t had to tie my own shoes since I was in the second grade. FAILURE? I was the number 2 ranked tennis player in the whole goddamn world. Oh, I’m sorry, I mean the whole godd*mn wo*ld, or however the hell you say it. What are you, the 168^thranked Knicks blogger? I’ve got an idea. Let’s you and me meet in an alley and see who’s a failure. That sound good, tough guy?

Q.

Yeah, well I ain’t drinking any Budweiser Select, you d-bag. Call me when you get inaugurated to the Blogger Hall of Dumbassery. I’ll give your induction speech.

Q.

Whatever. I’m going to go hang out in my mansion with hot chicks. Have fun taking the bus home, you wonderchunk of success. Out.

***** 

The rhetorical format for these interviews is taken from David Foster Wallace's extraordinary book of the same name, which includes a series of interviews in which the questions are not seen. Seriously, the book is astonishingly good, as one might expect what with it being written by the greatest living writer of the English language and all. And no, I'm not just saying that to avoid a cease and desist letter (I'm pretty sure this is fair parody); I'm saying that to encourage him to write another novel, for pity's sake. It's been ten years. Come on. We're waiting, our breath bated. Please. I'll beg if I have to.

So if you came here looking for the DFW book: buy it. If you came here looking for real interviews with physically ugly individuals, no dice. Alors. Good luck.