Best Little Witch-House in Arkham. Mark McLaughlin
Four. Some say she was the one who encouraged them to study the occult. Certainly their music—and careers—took a turn down a darkened corridor after meeting her.
At one point, an assassin shot at Jones as he was leaving a television studio, and since nobody saw him for some time after that, rumors circulated that he had died. In truth, he had gone into seclusion after the ordeal because he’d required extensive plastic surgery to repair damages to his face. After the surgery, he always wore dark glasses during public appearances.
Then came that fateful concert at Monroe Hexagonal Stadium—a night the world will never forget. Fans were shocked by what transpired at that concert, and afterward, bodyguards quickly spirited The Vittles off-stage. The boys quickly left America for a self-imposed exile upon the Pacific island of Pokaluhu, where I recently visited them at their request. It was to be their first interview in ten years. I was not allowed to bring any cameras or video equipment—only a tape recorder.
It would be the understatement of the millennium to say that things did not go as I had expected.
The following is a transcript of the taped interview.
* * * *
MM: Pokaluhu is a beautiful resort island—a paradise of palm trees and exotic flowers. I spent last night and this morning in a wonderful hotel on the other side of the island. A driver brought me to the mansion of The Vittles this afternoon. An elderly blind woman answered the door—she said she was one of the cooks. She was very friendly and cheerful, and we had a nice chat. I asked her if it was difficult being a blind cook, and she just laughed and said, “Blind people have to cook for themselves. Why would it be any harder to cook for others?” Good point!
I am now seated at a little white table in an enormous garden, with fragrant orchids and blossoming vines in every direction. I am in the shade of a huge, flowering tree, dotted with purple and golden butterflies. In front of me is a white gazebo, surrounded by screens of white fabric.
The Vittles are within that gazebo, having their dinner. I can see only their silhouettes. Fortunately there are some torches behind them, so their shadows on the screen before me are pretty sharp. I can even make out the jutting curve of Mongo’s aquiline nose. It would appear they have four women at their table as well, and there’s a servant standing off to one side. I think there are some big dogs huddled under the table. Or perhaps that’s a trunk? The shape kind of reminds me of a treasure chest.
Boys, why are you hiding behind those screens? I can see your shadows from here—you’ve lost weight. Good for you!
Popo: Yes, we’ve slimmed down. We’ve been fighting the flab for years, and it’s finally gone. Thanks for noticing.
MM: I believe there are some women in there with you. Are they your wives? Girlfriends?
Popo: To my right is my wife, Laura. She’s not having any of the roast this evening.
Laura: I should say not. I keep saying meat is bad for them, but do they listen? I suppose they think they’re going to live forever. I simply can’t stand the thought of eating anything with a face.
Another Woman’s Voice: My, what a sweet little angel you are. ‘Oh, my name is Laura and I am so holy, I only eat tiny apples that have already fallen from the tree.’ Spare us the sermon! We’ve heard it a million times before.
MM: Who was that who just spoke?
Jones: My wife Hekuuna. She is from this island. The people of Pokaluhu have a more nature-based philosophy. They see the food chain as—
Laura: They’re cannibals. Just say it. Disgusting cannibals.
Hekuuna: Who are you to judge my people, bitch-dog woman?
Mongo: Mark didn’t fly out here just to listen to you two argue, you know.
MM: I do want to get back to that whole cannibalism topic at some point. But you still need to answer my first question. Why are you behind that screen? Did you catch some horrible island skin disease or something?
Hekuuna: ‘Island skin disease’? No one is ever sick on Pokaluhu! It is a much healthier place than America, where everyone is a bloated pig!
Gregor: You’ll have to forgive Hekuuna—she’s very excitable. Ain’t that right, Jonesy? Actually, we’re hidden from sight because we’re gods.
MM: Oh? Congratulations, I guess…
Gregor: What I mean is, the locals say we’re divine. They don’t look at us directly, and they don’t want you looking at us, either.
Hekuuna: Your pitiful gaze would defile us.
MM: No offense, but I used to give these guys enemas. I’ve pretty much seen it all. Besides, there’s somebody in with you right now. That guy standing to the side. How come he gets to look at you?
Laura: His name is Ko. He’s blind, the poor thing. All of our servants are blind.
Mongo: But it’s not like we go around poking people’s eyes out. We asked the local islands to send us their blind people. They were happy to oblige.
MM: Hmmm. Back when you were heavier, the whole world was watching you. Now that you’re finally slender, no one gets to see you. Pretty ironic. Laura, if I remember correctly, didn’t you used to be Popo’s dietary consultant?
Laura: He never listened to me. Yet I fell in love with him anyway. He still doesn’t listen. But I still love him.
Popo: Those fancy diets of yours didn’t do me any good. I was just big, plain and simple. We were all big boys growing up. Well-fed from day one.
MM: We’ve heard from Laura and Hekuuna—who are the other two women at your table?
Hekuuna: They are my sisters, Yilla and M’namma.
Yilla: Hello. I am Yilla.
M’namma: I am M’namma. Hello.
Gregor: M’namma is my wife.
Mongo: And Yilla’s my wife.
MM: I’m guessing Hekuuna’s sisters were big fans of The Vittles, so she made the introductions?
Hekuuna: That is wrong. My sisters were not familiar with any form of American entertainment. They were priestesses of Kugappa.
MM: Is that a local deity?
Hekuuna: Local? Stupid man! Kugappa is the great god of all the world.
Laura: But he’s only worshipped on this tiny hellhole of an island.
Hekuuna: But someday—
Mongo: Now, girls. A little decorum.
MM: Jones, how did you meet Hekuuna?
Jones: It’s a long story, so I’ll give you the condensed version. Hekuuna’s father, who passed away a few years back, used to be king of this island. Her mother was a tourist, originally from Chicago, who met and fell in love with the king. Hekuuna was the oldest of the three daughters, destined to take over the throne someday. Her mother sent her to college in America to receive a more cosmopolitan education.
Hekuuna: America is filled with pigs!
Jones: Yes, my dear—but lucky for me you have a fondness for pork. I met Hekuuna at a concert in New York City. She snuck backstage, and—well, she’s just very beautiful. And wise—the wisdom shines in her eyes. I fell in love with her the moment I saw her.
Laura: Evil shines in her eyes. I hate her.
MM: I’m not sure if I should bring this up, but—well, my readers would want to know, so here goes. Some people say that Hekuuna is ultimately responsible for the downfall and self-imposed exile of The Vittles.
Hekuuna: Yes, that is true. I made them what they are today.
Laura: Whore. Filthy pagan whore.
Mongo: I give up.
Laura: They came here because Hekuuna