MB Interview: Antigone and Cassandra (Part 2: Translated Version) (Patreon)

Note: The following interview has been translated into English by Schrodinger Alavidze. Please read Part 1, the untranslated version, first at:

 https://www.patreon.com/posts/55589763

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Dual spotlights shine upon a stage’s four chairs, between which is a low table. On one side of the table sits Nicholas Wiseman, dressed informally in loose khakis and a fleece zipper-down jacket.

The seat next to him is taken by an abnormally large cat, whose well-groomed coat of long, white hair does little to soften the ferocity of his snaggle-toothed snarl, the glare of his missing eye, nor the way that his half bitten-off ear menacingly twitches whenever Nick glances over.

In the two remaining chairs, Antigone and Cassandra sit, their gazes glued to the bowl of tiny bone-shaped dog treats upon the table.

Nick addresses the camera.

Nick: Today we have a special interview, featuring the goodest girls to ever grace our stage. Might I introduce Antigone and Cassandra, K. Zarneki’s beloved shih tzus!

He dips his hand into the bowl of treats, and presents two treats to Antigone and Cassandra. Antigone takes hers delicately, but Cassandra nips the end of one of his fingers.

Nick: Ouch! It’s okay, girl, I’m sure it was an accident. And may I also present my temporary cohost for this evening, Schrodinger.

Nick pulls out a fish-shaped treat from his pocket. At Schrodinger’s hiss, he opts to cautiously toss it onto the cat’s seat instead of giving it to him by hand (a wise choice).

Nick, rolling his eyes: According to our showrunner, I need a “translator.”

Schrodinger: You don’t speak a single dialect of dog Dog. Whereas I am fluent in a wide variety, ranging from Shih Tzu to Schnauzer.

The cat preens.

Schrodinger: I traveled the world in my misspent youth, and became very cultured.

Antigone: That’s amazing! You’re amazing, Schrodinger!

Cassandra: Whatever. I doubt he’s ever been to the dog park.

Nick grins blankly, unable to understand any of their conversation.

Nick: For my first question, and I have to ask, who are the goodest girls?

Antigone: Oh! Oh! I know this one!

Cassandra: We are, obviously. We’re the goodest girls.

Nick, still not able to understand their words but nonetheless comprehending their reply: That’s right! It’s you! You’re the goodest girls! Yes, yes, you are!

He scritches Antigone and Cassandra under their chins, much to the dogs’ delight. Schrodinger stands and resettles himself so that he now faces away from Nick.

Schrodinger, chiding the dogs: You’re embarrassing yourself. Have a little dignity.

Cassandra: Mind your own business, Garfield.

Schrodinger lets out an affronted gasp.

Nick: Annie and Cass, you two beat out some pretty stiff competition to earn this interview slot! How do you feel about one-upping Reese Rudzite and that fake waiter in the polls?

Antigone: Who?

Cassandra: What’s a poll?

Schrodinger, mockingly: Reese Rudzite is the villain that your dearest owner is trying to apprehend. Don’t you pay attention to your owner’s conversations?

Antigone: If Best One is trying to take this Reese down, then we hate him!

Cassandra: Yeah! Best One is the best.

Schrodinger: You call your owner ‘Best One’? How demeaning.

Antigone: Best One was always best, even when Cass bit Best One the day we met. Best One didn’t even get angry.

Cassandra: Instead, Best One brought us to . . .

She stops, suddenly choked up.

Cassandra: To the clean place with soft beds.

Antigone: Home.

Cassandra, to Schrodinger: What do you call your owner?

Schrodinger: Warmth Giver.

Antigone: All humans are warm.

Schrodinger: Her warmth is the best warmth.

Nick, unable to understand anything said by the pets, proceeds to make up and go off his own version of their conversation.

Nick: What’s that, Cass? You want to bite off Reese in the— oh my. We’re on public access television, you can’t say words like that on air. But I admit, I’ve considered similar options myself.

Schrodinger, condescendingly lifting one paw to point at Nick: And he is Big Foot. The stupidest, clumsiest human, who is always stepping on my beautiful tail when I try to sniff what he makes in the kitchen. And he never shares the food.

The dogs give Schrodinger a look of sympathy.

Cassandra: That is terrible of him.

Antigone: But he does give treats! He’s Treat Giver! I love Treat Giver!

Nick, eyeing Schrodinger warily: So, girls, how do you feel about cats?

Antigone: Schrodinger is our friend! He brought me a mouse!

Cassandra: I’m withholding judgement until he brings back a ball.

Schrodinger: A ball does not prove my prowess as a hunter. Either appreciate what spoils I see fit to distribute, or I’ll stop bringing them.

Antigone: But they smell so good!

Nick, in total ignorance: Yeah, I’m not a fan of cats either. Do you have any dog friends?

Antigone: Ruffian! He’s tall and big and plays with us at the dog park!

Cassandra: Treat Giver isn’t really listening to our answers, is he?

Schrodinger gives Cassandra a evaluative stare.

Schrodinger: You’re clever for a canine.

Nick: Aw, so no close dog friends yet? How would you feel if your owner brought home another pup? Or a cat, for that matter?

Antigone: Ruffian can come live with us! But, oh, what if he eats my food? Do cats eat dog food?

Schrodinger: In my time as an itinerate vagabond, some of my best meals came from unexpected places. There was this one boutique dumpster that . . .

The cat sighs dreamily.

Schrodinger: Yes, well, Warmth Giver provides me with tuna. My days of adventurous cuisine tasting are perhaps best left to nostalgic memory.

Antigone: If Schrodinger promises not to eat my food, he can come live with us. And maybe another cat as well.

Cassandra, to Schrodinger: Would you chase after my ball?

Schrodinger: Play fetch? Darling, please. I have more important ways to spend my time, like sunbathing.

Cassandra: Then maybe living with a cat wouldn’t be so bad. Just remember that it’s my ball.

Nick: It would depend on the cat or dog, would it? That makes sense—you wouldn’t want just anyone for a roommate! Speaking of potential roommates, though . . . How do you two feel about Button?

Antigone: Button is nice! Has the best cuddling arms and nicest lap!

Antigone leaps onto the center table, spilling the bowl of treats.

Cassandra: Mine!

Immediately, Cassandra is off her chair as well, eating the spilled goodies until Nick hoists her up and back onto her seat. Nick hastily scoops up the fallen dog treats.

Antigone: Button is sad sometimes, but I’m the best at making them feel better! Best One told me to make them feel better, and I did! Because I’m the bestest girl!

Cassandra looks at her, Antigone’s words having distracted her from glaring at Nick.

Antigone: One of the bestest girls, that is. Cass is also the bestest girl!

Schrodinger: There can’t be two bestest girls.

Antigone, suddenly serious: There should always be room at the top. That common wisdom doesn’t claim so is a sad reflection of modern society’s unhealthy and ultimately unsustainable competitive culture.

Schrodinger blinks.

Cassandra: Don’t mistake excitable for dumb. She reads over Best One’s arm.

Antigone jumps back onto her seat.

Nick: You like Button as much as you like treats, huh?

Cassandra: Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

Nick: I have to ask, given your approval of my sibling: girls, why did you break up that kiss? You know the one.

Antigone and Cassandra excitedly bark at Button’s name.

Antigone: Best One and Button were hugging! I wanted to be in the hug!

Cassandra: They were just standing there. I wanted to play more Chuck-It, and they were ignoring me.

Nick: Hmm. Not the reason that I expected.

Schrodinger: Big Foot is talking out his tail-hole. He has no clue what you said. But I’m curious, were you two really okay with your owner cuddling with another human?

Antigone: Of course! As long as I get to join the cuddling!

Cassandra: I liked that Button played fetch with us. I wish they played more fetch, and spent less time cuddling.

Nick: I’m glad that you approve of Button, though. I never understood why you always terrorized them whenever they walked by—I could hear your barking from my house.

Cassandra: I thought they were going to come into the yard and steal my ball.

Antigone: I was barking because Cass was barking!

Nick, sagely: I see, I see. You were trying to protect Zarneki.

Schrodinger: I told you that he was talking out his tail-hole.

Nick: You must really love your owner to be so protective. How do you feel about the Mayor?

Cassandra: Best One’s father? He’s always angry, and never gives pets.

Antigone: He makes Best One said. We get lots of cuddles from Best One after he leaves.

Nick: I hear you. Politics, am I right? Any good stories that you’d like to share about Zarneki?

Cassandra: There was that day that Best One played fetch with us! And then . . . Best One played fetch with us the next day, too!

Antigone: Best One plays fetch with us every day.

Cassandra, morosely: Except when it’s raining.

Nick: That’s absolutely scandalous! I can’t believe that you disclosed that to a live studio audience. This kind of scoop is almost too juicy to air. Any other revelations about Zarneki that we should know?

The shih tzus stare expectantly at the bowl of dog treats. Nick sighs and gives them each a cookie.

Antigone: We did overhear a conversation between Best One and The Petter.

Schrodinger: The Petter? Who’s the petter?

Antigone: I think Best One calls them Tall Pharaoh.

Cassandra: Taliaferro. They’re Best One’s friend. Best One always smiles more when The Petter comes, but The Petter can be . . .

Antigone: The Petter pets us so much that sometimes Cass hides in Best One’s bedroom.

Schrodinger: But you heard them talking about important information? Did it involve . . .

Schrodinger lowers his voice.

Schrodinger: . . . The War?

Antigone: I don’t think so. The Petter was teasing Best One about numbers. ‘Two is comfy, three is loud.’

Cassandra: Two is company, three is a crowd.

Antigone: Yeah! I was falling asleep at the time—The Petter gives such good pets, and laps are best for naps. But Best One turned red like Cass’s favorite ball at the number talk.

Cassandra: What war?

Nick: Zarneki really made you wear those costumes for Halloween? Dang, and I thought I went all-out.

Antigone: Halloween? Last Halloween, Best One dressed us up as pumpkins.

Cassandra: It was my favorite costume. We looked like balls! Orange balls!

Schrodinger: So, you didn’t learn anything about . . .

The cat lowers his voice again.

Schrodinger: . . . The War?

Nick: Other than dog treats, do you have any favorite snacks?

At the word ‘snacks,’ both Antigone and Cassandra sit nicely in their seats. Nick gives them each another cookie.

The shih tzus pant happily after gobbling down the treats.

Antigone: Salami!

Cassandra: Best One always says “Not this time, girls. It’s too unhealthy.”

Antigone, smugly: But we always change Best One’s mind.

Schrodinger, sounding jealous: Warmth Giver never changes her mind.

Nick: Scrambled eggs? A solid choice.

Schrodinger: His brain is scrambled. Also, do you two seriously know nothing about The War?

Cassandra: Like Tug-a-War?

Schrodinger: I only agreed to be on this show because I got a tip that you shih tzus were informants.

Disgusted, Schrodinger hops off his chair and strides off behind the stage curtain.

Nick sighs with relief at the cat’s disappearance.

Nick: Since my cohost took off, it looks like we should wrap things up. One last question, which I was told needed to be asked by our producers.

He looks down at the cue card and shakes his head, bemused.

Nick: What are your plans for world domination?

Antigone: Oh! Maybe Schrodinger meant that war. The Future War.

Cassandra: Schrodinger is a spy for the enemy! Quick, after him!