Work Text:
‘You’re ready Mr…?’
‘Furfur. Everyone calls me Furfur.’ He’s anxiously looking at the camera in front of him. If he had known he’d be on national television, he would have thought twice before mailing the letter. This hadn’t been part of the plan.
‘Mr Furfur.’ Mr Brown nods and points at the camera. ‘Camera.’
In the background the soft voice of the cameraman resounds, ‘Rolling.’
With an amazing smile, stolen from a toothpaste commercial, Mr Brown turns towards the man with the, in his opinion, strange choice of clothes. He likes it. Characters like him always make the program more interesting. They bring some colour to the scene. In this particular case, different shades of black. When Mr Brown met the man an hour ago, his first impression was: Gothic. Which wasn’t quite right. Demonic was a more appropriate word. Earlier today Mr Brown had interviewed other friends. All of them in their best clothes and make up. Furfur is special. Furfur is good television. Furfur is the last to be interviewed and Mr Brown will find himself lucky he can go home and get some well deserved rest after him.
‘As Anthony’s best friend, please tell our viewers something about him. What’s he like?’ Mr Brown asks.
‘Anthony?’ Furfur frowns, then his face lights up. ’Oh, you mean Crowley. He’s got some hard nuts to crack.’
It’s Mr Browns turn to frown. ‘Excuse me?’
‘Hard nut. Hard shell, soft inside.’ Furfur explains with a big smile and a wave at the camera. ‘You know the type, don’t you? Is this my good side? Should we change position? I want you to catch my good side.’
‘This is fine.’ Mr Brown says between gritted teeth. ‘What’s he like? Is he a serious guy? Relaxed? Fun?’
‘He’s loads of fun once you’re able to crack him.’ An unsure smile at the camera. Furfur isn’t too sure about whether this is or is not his best side.
‘Please, forget the camera and look at me.’ What was it he had said before? This man was going to be good television? ‘You’re saying he’s funny? Like telling jokes?’
Furfur gives him a side eye, ‘What? Crowley telling jokes?' The very thought of it is utterly amusing. ‘Nah, he don’t do jokes, but we had loads of fun together when we were young. Once he told me to jump on his back and ride him like a monkey in a waist coat. Loads of fun together.’