One night, I fell asleep
with the TV on, as I was prone to do in those days.
I didn’t want to miss a bit of late night
television.
“Goodnight, Trevor,” I remembered Conan
O’Brien saying, when he signed off that night.
His guest had been Jennifer Anniston, and they spent
most of the interview talking about me. At that
point, the finer points of their interview began
flooding into my mind.
“I can’t wait, until I meet this guy!”
Jennifer shrieked, “I hear he even makes women’s
breasts grow. Hollywood will love this man! Trevor,
if you can hear this, I want to meet you so bad.
Hurry up! Please!”
“Hold on just a minute!” Conan exclaimed,
“Aren’t you already dating the sexiest
man in Hollywood? Won’t he be jealous?”
“Brad will have to understand,” Jennifer
replied, “This is no ordinary man.”
Next, I remembered an interview that I had seen
with Alyssa Milano, earlier that week. She had been
talking about how she never would have done nude
scenes in movies, if she had known the footage would
wind up on the Internet, someday. I had barely paid
attention to what she was saying at the time, but
at that point, I remembered the full interview with
amazing clarity.
“I only did those nude scenes to attract the
attention of one man,” she told the guy who
was interviewing her.
“And, who is this lucky man?” the interviewer
asked.
“Let’s just say he’s an old friend,”
Alyssa said, coyly.
“I don’t understand,” retorted
the interviewer, “If he’s an old friend,
why would you need to attract his attention through
one of your films?”
“Look,” Milano commanded him, “You’re
just a pawn in this game. It doesn’t matter
if you understand or not. Let’s get that straight.”
She, then, turned to the camera and said, “Do
you see how easy this is, Trevor?”
“Okay, well, how did you meet this old friend?”
the interviewer asked a bit baffled.
“I’ve never actually met him,”
Alyssa explained, “He wrote me the most beautiful
letter, when we were children. I was going through
a lot back then, and his letter really turned my
life around. Now, he’s the one in need of
help, and I’m trying to deliver.”
“Why haven’t you tried to contact this
man in person?” the interviewer asked.
“There were barriers,” Alyssa said,
“This is a very special man. I haven’t
been allowed to communicate with him, directly,
until this interview.”
“Tell me something more about this man,”
the interviewer tried coaxing something more out
of Alyssa, “What kind of man is he?”
“He’s the kind that would say, ‘Yes,
I can cure scoliosis,’” Alyssa said,
plainly.
“What?” the interviewer barked, “I
don’t understand.”
“I don’t expect you to,” Alyssa
said, “This is a great man. He’ll clean
up Hollywood. He’s already killed some that
needed to go.”
“Are you telling me that you’re trying
to aid a murderer?” the interviewer asked
in disbelief.
“Call him what you want. Your petty labels
don't apply to this man,” Alyssa said, “I'm
hoping that he'll do some good with Clinton and
his wife, too. It’s their time to go.”
“Are you suggesting that this man will kill
former President Bill Clinton and his wife, the
Democratic Senator from New York?” the interviewer
asked in complete astonishment.
“Perhaps, they will kill themselves, once
they see this man’s light,” Alyssa said.
I thought that all of that had happened before my
very eyes, but it didn’t register with me,
at the time, because of the womb. Next, I had a
memory of being over at Larry’s apartment
in Denton. It was when I was still in the womb,
so I hadn’t even heard, much less, digested
Milano’s interview.
“Did you happen to catch that interview with
Alyssa Milano that was on the other day?”
Chuck asked me, while I was sitting on his couch,
watching TV.
“Don’t forget about me,” he whispered,
“I’ll be right here.”
“Yeah,” I said, “I saw some of
it, but I didn’t really pay attention.”
“She was talking about some guy who she wants
to have sex with and possibly marry. Who do you
think that guy could be?” Chuck asked me,
“Pssst…remember good old Chuck!”
“I don’t know,” I said, “But
he sure is lucky.”
“What if you were that guy, Trevor?”
Chuck asked, “Hey, don’t forget about
me!”
“No use trying to help him now,” Larry
said, “You’re too late.”
“Yeah, I know,” Chuck said, “He’s
going to tell me that I’m a trip, and that’s
all I’ll get.” I couldn't help but double
over in laughter, when I had that memory.
I, telepathically, told Chuck,
"Man, you're a trip."
"Yep," he said, "It figures."
"This is impossible,”
I thought to myself.
“Yes, it is,”
Conan O’Brien said as he entered into my mind.
He was sitting behind the desk on the set of his
show.
“Hi, Trevor!”
Jennifer Anniston cried out from the guest seat.
She had never left the studio.
“Pick me! Pick me!”
she screamed to me.
I quickly told her, “Hi.”
I was too disoriented to think.
“How is this possible?”
I asked.
“I assure you that
this can all be explained by technology,”
Conan said.
“How?” I asked.
I wondered, then, if I had a satellite receiver
planted in my brain, and they were beaming images
to me from NBC Studios.
