Conversation · The Hanged Man

Maybe I was getting my rocks off?

First, do you have to speak like that? What dialect is that, anyway?

It's a mish-mash, Coppobollo. You think I'm Messinian, don't you? For you, this is how people from Messina speak like.

I'm not even sure what Messina is.

Well, I'm not from Messina, am I? My hair is too light a shade of brown. Trust your inner racist.

What are you, racist now too?

You think I am. You think I was a racist because this lump looks like military and has tattoos. That's called profiling.

Forget it.

I know what this means -- more questions.

So -- you were feeling sexual arousal when they were hanging you?

Do I look like an erotic auto-asphyxiation type to you?

No.

Captain Coppodromo, I fear we are drifting away, fixating on sexuality again... let's go with a simpler question.

He didn't choke himself. You know it.

What is erotic auto-asphyxiation?

Yes.

I always trust my inner racist. He shows me the score.

Yeah, well, he seems to think I'm also a racist since I have tattoos and a military body build. It's called profiling.

Are you? From Messina?

No. My hair is too light a shade of brown. My eyebrows too. Trust your inner racist.

Enough.

You can come back and look into this face any time you want. Ask me your little questions, freshen your memory. Create associations, remind yourself of your mortality, Coppolopo.

How do you like it in the fridge?

I like it a lot brother. This really is your finest hour! You're a genius -- a regular Coppolangelo!

What is happening?

What do you mean?

Never mind, I wanted to...

Ask me more questions? You fucking love questions.

I'm talking to you.

It's the power of your... (Black, frothy liquid starts bubbling on his lips...)

IMAGINATION.

Yeah, man, don't be crazy. Inanimate objects and dead people can't really talk to you, your wild imagination is doing this -- ask some more of those questions you love so much!

He loves those.

Go ahead, ask me more questions. You fucking love questions.

Why do I love questions so much?

Because you're a copparooni. Look at all of them go! Do you want more questions?

No, I'm good.

Your loss, coppodoppo. Would've been so primo...

Give me a comical amount of questions.

Comin' right up, copporooni Roonie. This is getting up-beat now!

Yeah, give me questions.

Here you go, you loonie!

Why do I feel like I've forgotten something terrible?

Because you have.

Is my name Roonie?

Fuck no, you're no Roonie.

I do strike myself as a Roonie.

No, you don't. Between you and me, your name is probably Harry.

That's right. Stupid, boring Harry. Harry the Motherfucker.

Of course not. The name is Raphaël Ambrosius Costeau.

Listen to yourself... You're not a Raphaël anything. You're probably just Harry or something. That's right... Harry.

No, it can't be Harry. I refuse.

Good for you.

Could I really be Harry?

You can be anything you wanna be, brother Coppo.

I feel like I've been getting a lot of Harry lately...

You might be on to something there.

Roonie is not who I am. I'm Harry.

No, you're not a Harry either. You're a motherfucker. That's who you are, Roonie the Motherfucker.

Right, I'm the Tequila Sunset.