Cheese: You want a beer or somethin'?

Rowling: Thank you, but I'll pass. I'm not much of a drinker.

Cheese: Suit yourself. Can you grab me one, though? I'm parched.

Rowling: Excuse me?

Cheese: A beer. I could use one. They're on the bottom shelf of the fridge.

Rowling: ... ... ... Well, I... I guess.

J.K. walks to my refrigerator and hands me a beer.

Cheese: Thanks, honeynipples. You're a good woman. Hey, you kinda look like that chick from Twisted Sister.

He wants to rock.

Rowling: Who?

Cheese: You know, [sings] "I wanna rock! ROCK! Duh duh da duh, duh duh da duh, DAAH DAAH! I wanna ROCK! ROCK!"

Rowling: Oh, you mean the band-

Cheese: "ROCK! Duh duh da duh, duh duh da duh, DAAH DAAH! I want - to - ROCK! ROCK!"

Rowling: Yes, I understand who you're talking about. That's not a "chick." It's Dee Snider.

Cheese: "Chick," "woman," whatever. I don't know what you people call yourselves these days. In another month, you'll change it again anyway.

Rowling: No, I mean Dee Snider is a man.

Cheese: ... But the band is called Twisted Sister.

Rowling: I know, dear.

Cheese: Well, anyway, you look like her. Except you're a lot hotter. And your tits are bigger.

J.K. Rowling's boobs.

Rowling: Ok, let's not get crude and use language that-

My six-year-old son walks in.

Jason: Dad, can you fix my bike chain?

Cheese: You're gonna have to wait a few minutes, buddy. I'm interviewing... ... ...

Rowling: ...

Cheese: ...

Rowling: ... J.K. Rowling.

Cheese: I'm interviewing J.K. Rowling.

Jason: Why?

Cheese: Because uncle Wong asked me to. She's famous.

Jason: What does she do?

Cheese: ...

Rowling: ...

Cheese: ...

Rowling: The Harry Potter series?

Cheese: ...

Rowling: ...

Cheese: ...

Rowling: I write novels.

Cheese: She rides shovels.

Rowling: No, I write novels. Can you please turn that music down? It's a bit distracting.

Cheese: No can do, sweet-tits. You either rides with Digital Underground, or you gets off the bus.

Rowling: That doesn't even mean anything.

Cheese: [To son] I'll fix your bike in a bit. Go play.

Rowling: So if you don't even know who I am, why are you interviewing me? Don't you have to do research on your interviewees before you attempt something like this?

Cheese: Oh, yeah, sorry about that. Wong was going to interview you, but he got the shits real bad. Stunk up the whole studio. That's why we're here. He told me not to tell you that, though, because he's a fan or something. Probably wants to bang you. And he'd feel stupid if you knew he shit his pants.

Rowling: And you've never heard of the Harry Potter books? Or the movies?

Cheese: Reading is for assholes. One time, I knew this guy who read a book about STDs, and he got Chlamydia.

Rowling: That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard.

Cheese: I don't know if it's true or not because I never saw him pee, but he's never lied to me before.

Jason: Dad, will you fix my bike chain? Pleeease?

A bike chain and some math.

Cheese: *Sigh.* Do you know how to fix a bike chain?

Rowling: Me?

Cheese: Yes, you. If my son knew how to fix it, he wouldn't be asking me to. I thought the English were supposed to be smart.

Rowling: Oh, well, I don't know. I've never had to do it.

Cheese: Well, there's a first time for everything. Peel your fine ass off of that seat, and we'll crank this bitch out real quick.

Rowling: Do you not know how to fix it?

Cheese: Oh, no, I know how. It's just that those things are oily, and I don't want to get my hands dirty. If I fix that and then grab ahold of my beer bottle, it gets it all smudgy.

Rowling: I think I should probably be going soon.

Cheese: You're gonna just leave a little kid's bike broken like that after he begged you to fix it for him?

Rowling: He didn't ask me! He asked you!

Jason: Will you fix my bike chain, Miss Rowling?

Cheese: You heartless bitch.

Rowling: What?!

Cheese: How can you listen to that pleading voice and not immediately rush to his aid?

Rowling: He asked you first!

Cheese: I DON'T WANNA GET MY FUCKIN' BEER BOTTLE DIRTY!

Rowling: Ok, ok. There's no need to get violent. We'll just fix the bicycle, and I'll be on my way.

Cheese: Damn right you will. Can you grab me a beer on your way out?

As we approach the door, Wong comes walking up.

Cheese: Oh, hey! You feeling better?

Wong: [Glances at Rowling and then back at me] Yeah, I feel much better. I went home and changed pants- [Looks at Rowling again in horror, realizing what he almost said] -after you shit them.

Rowling: Did he just say-

Wong: Yeah, John ate some bad tacos at lunch, and he accidentally crapped my pants. I had to go change.

Rowling: That STD story you told me earlier? That is no longer the stupidest thing I've ever heard.

Wong: You told her the STD story?

Cheese: Well, I had to say something. She writes books, and that STD story is about a book. I figured it would give us something in common. You know... books.

Rowling: I'm getting out of here.

Cheese: You leave without fixing that bike, and I'll make sure you never work in this town again.

Rowling: This town has a population of 2500 people, and I promise you that not a single one of them have ever read anything in their entire redneck lives.

Cheese: I'm about to read your ass with my boot!

Wong: What?

Rowling: You aren't even wearing boots.

Cheese: Jason, go find daddy's boots. We're about to test the ass-density of the English!

Wong: John, you don't even own boots.

Cheese: [To Rowling] He shit his pants today.

Rowling: I know. You told me that already.

Wong: You. Son. Of. A. Bitch.

Cheese: Be careful, John Shitter! I wouldn't want you to get excited and hose down another pair of pants in front of your little fancy English slut!

Wong: John Shitter?

Cheese: Yeah, like John Ritter. You know, from Three's Company?

Wong: ...

Rowling: ...

Cheese: It's all I could come up with on short notice.

Wong: That's it, you're a dead man.

I don't know exactly when J.K. Rowling escaped, but I'm assuming it was somewhere between the time Wong was wrapping my arm up around my shoulder blades, and kicking me in the balls with my own foot. Either way, she didn't even attempt to fix Jason's bike chain, and she never did thank me for complimenting her on her giant breasts. I'm not interviewing any more English people. They're stupid.

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