(If you haven’t read Part 1 of this interview, you can check it out here)
Hitler’s hookah is smaller than I’d expected: one would think that the Fuhrer would have relied upon some overwrought device of Volkshalle-ian proportions, but what I’m presented with is almost…dainty. Even though there are no swastikas on the bowl, I still feel kind of bad hitting the thing, even if it does rip like a champ. I offer the hose to Kazuhira Johnson, who politely declines, citing the fact that he “isn’t a fucking anti-Semite.”
Feeling appropriately chastened, I proceed to the next smoking implement in my host’s vast collection: a peace pipe once presented to Andrew Jackson (who apparently didn’t get the message). Kaz offers it to me with an air of ceremony and an inscrutable expression on his face.
I politely insist that he take the first hit; Johnson obliges me and takes a long pull before collapsing, apparently unconscious, onto a conveniently-located settee. I approach with some caution, anxious to avoid getting fingerprints on what is increasingly starting to look like a crime scene.
The Scrub Report: Kaz? Are you OK?
Kaz “Buster” Johnson: Who are you, and how did you get in my house?
TSR: Well, I’m not the fucking locksmith.
[At this point, Johnson produces an ornate dueling pistol from beneath the settee and brandishes it at the author.]
KJ: Ever seen a man get shot in the stomach with a flintlock?
TSR: [nervously]I – I guess in The Patriot?
KJ: I mean in real life.
TSR: I don’t believe I have, no. But if you’d like to continue the interview –
KJ: Interview?
TSR: Yes, sir, I’m with The Scrub Report. We were in the middle of an interview when you asked if I wanted to see Hitler’s hookah –
KJ: Aw, fuck. And then did I hit Andrew Jackson’s peace pipe?
TSR: Yes, sir, you did.
KJ: Shit. I gotta stop doing that. [He scratches his head with the barrel of the pistol.] Guess that’s why I’m on the swooning couch.
TSR: I guess so. Would you like to go back to the other room? Most of my recording equipment is in there…
KJ: In a minute. My head’s a little fucky right now.
TSR: Sure thing.
KJ: You ever do DMT?
TSR: Is that what’s in Andrew Jackson’s peace pipe?
KJ: Oh, no. [chuckles] I was just wondering.
[Johnson twirls the pistol around one finger like he’s Doc Holliday. The gun promptly goes off, blasting a fist-sized hole through a bucket of Ho Chi Minh’s cigarette butts.]
KJ: …dammit.
TSR: That was pretty loud.
KJ: What?
TSR: [shouting] That was kinda loud.
KJ: Yeah, my bad.
TSR: So, back to the, uh…spirit chamber? Like I said, most of my equipment’s in there.
KJ: Sure, let’s do it. [yawns] This gun killed Alexander Hamilton, you know.
TSR: Neat.
A minute or so later, we’re settled back in the spirit chamber and back to business. Johnson has, for some reason, brought along his Hamilton-slaying firearm, and continues to do tricks with it while we converse. I take comfort in the fact that, as far as I know, he hasn’t reloaded it.
KJ: What outfit did you say you were with, again?
TSR: I’m with The Scrub Report.
KJ: [sighs] Well, it’s not fuckin’ Vogue, but you take what you can get, I suppose.
TSR: Sure, I know what you mean.
KJ: What, like you’d rather be interviewing somebody else?
TSR: I wouldn’t say that, exactly.
KJ: Hey, man, I get it. I know I’m an odd bird. Hard to work with and all that. That’s why my career in ventriloquism never took off.
TSR: I didn’t know you spent time, uh, ventriloquizing.
KJ: That’s actually the correct word. ‘Ventriloquizing.’ I’m impressed.
TSR: Me, too, honestly.
KJ: But yeah, back in the day, I took some time off college and hit the road. Just me, my van, and a ventriloquist dummy named Manfred.
TSR: And this was in the 1980’s?
KJ: Early ‘80’s, yeah. Reagan years, baby. Everything was tax cuts, blow, and the subversion of foreign democracies, as far as the eye could see. Scarface was just a documentary about a guy in the upper-middle class.
TSR: That’s…fascinating.
KJ: You missed out, kid. Anyway, Manfred and I started off on the west coast – figured we’d work our way south from Seattle ‘til we hit L.A. ‘Course, we didn’t make it all that way…not by a long shot.
TSR: Hard to make a living as a ventriloquist.
KJ: Oh, not at all. We were bringing in the money like nobody’s business, me and Manfred. But the thing is…well, Manfred was too good.
TSR: Manfred – your dummy?
KJ: [laughs bitterly] Sometimes it felt like I was the dummy. Every time Manfred was in the room, my act was…wonderful. Wonderful. But the times he wasn’t there – when he was in the shop, or I wanted to try stand-up on my own – everything fell apart. It wasn’t that I wasn’t getting laughs when I should’ve been – I couldn’t even remember the material. Like, poof, it was just…out of my brain. Gone out to get milk, never to return.
TSR: Do you think you might have subconsciously relied on Manfred as some kind of totem? Like a good luck charm, almost.
KJ: A reasonable assumption, but…no. I thought so at first, too. But then, when we were alone, he started to talk. He had all these…odd little observations. Funny stuff. Sometimes I felt like he was trying out material on me.
TSR: That’s…exceptionally unnerving. What did you do?
KJ: What would you do?
TSR: I would have thrown Manfred into a furnace. Or a woodchipper.
KJ: Like Jimmy Hoffa.
TSR: I thought he was buried under Giants Stadium?
KJ: Place got demolished in 2010. No Hoffa.
TSR: Bummer. So, did you immolate Manfred? Or mince him to bits with lawn-care equipment?
KJ: [scoffs] Fuck no. I pawned him for $800. Used the money to pay for some books on coding and cover my rent for a couple months while I learned the basics.
TSR: And I suppose you got your first job in the gaming industry after that?
KJ: Yeah, but you know what the crazy thing is?
TSR: …that you had a ventriloquist dummy that actually talked?
KJ: Nah, nah. So I sold Manfred, right? Didn’t think about him again for years and years. Smash cut to 2003.
TSR: …OK.
KJ: I’m watching TV, right? Not really paying attention, just flipping through channels late at night. And I come across this talk show, and for a second I swear it’s Manfred up there doing the hosting. I figure it’s gotta be the ayahuasca, but sure enough, the next night it’s the same thing – and I’m fuckin’ certain it’s Manfred behind the desk. Same voice, same cadence, everything. You know the name of the show?
TSR: No, I do not.
KJ: Jimmy Kimmel Live.
TSR: So, you’re saying that beloved late-night television host Jimmy Kimmel is, in fact, a sentient ventriloquist dummy named Manfred.
KJ: Fuckin’-a right, man. Hiding in plain sight, like a Chupacabra.
TSR:
KJ:
TSR:
KJ: You alright, man?
TSR: Yeah, I’m fine, sorry – thought I was having an aneurysm for a second there. How would you say your experience with Manfred impacted your career in the games industry?
KJ: [shrugs] It didn’t, really.
TSR: Well, I guess more broadly, what kind of influences from your formative years shaped your philosophy when it comes to game design?
KJ: Well, my dad’s stories about fighting in Korea really impacted how I went about framing the levels and action in Crater Shock. You want to put the player knee-deep in mud, guts, and shell casings.
TSR: Oh, your father fought in the Korean War?
KJ: Nope. He went there for a bachelor party once, though.
TSR: I see.
KJ: Let me think…I suppose I came up with the idea for Deathmoor after I ate a half-ounce of mushrooms and fell asleep reading Wuthering Heights. Once I had the core idea – you know, haunted British manor, zombies, shotguns, yadda yadda – the rest was easier than eating pudding with your fingers.
TSR: Fascinating. You know, Deathmoor was a lot of people’s first foray into the horror genre, mine included. I know a lot of folks are waiting on word of a sequel…
KJ: Keep hoping, bitch. [snickers] I always wanted to say that.
TSR: So, no confirmation of a sequel, then. Your latest project –
KJ: Of course, the whole genesis of Man-o’-War was a boating trip I took with several other men in the summer of 2008. Those men are all dead.
TSR: I’m sorry?
KJ: Me, too. Look, man, I’d love to talk more, but my massage therapist is coming around pretty soon, and I gotta get lubed up. You know how it is.
TSR: Well, hey, thanks for having me. It was…interesting.
KJ: Sure thing. Come back again sometime.