Star Questions

Welcome back to another blog post where I answer questions about my fabulous career as an actor. I’m Zach Jordan. You might remember me from such films as I Don’t Like Sand and You Shall Not Pass. I have quite enjoyed this series so far, despite my initial apprehension. So, let’s just jump into the first question.

Felicity asks: When you were filming I’ve Got a Jar of Dirt, in Western Australia, there were a lot of car stunts, right? Where did you get your car repaired? I’m asking for a friend in Midvale.

Your friend is very lucky to live in Midvale because I know the perfect mechanic there. He does great car service near Midvale and is definitely worth visiting. We had all sorts of issues while making that film. Why at one point the tyres exploded and we had to get a completely new set. Then there were engine issues, electrical issues, exhaust issues. You name it, and there was a problem with that car. But that’s what happens when you make an apocalypse movie and have to use an old vehicle!

Thomas asks: Hi Zachie J, will you DJ at my friend’s birthday party?

No.

Sarah asks: When you were filming in Australia was it hard to deal with the heat? How often did you need a car aircon regas?

Well, as I said before, pretty much any car issue you can name, we had while making that movie. We had to get regular servicing and yes, a regular regas. Say, I’m starting to notice a pattern of oddly specific questions in these blog posts. Can we get some variety, please?

Bailey asks: Can you enlighten us on the experience of filming in the Australian desert? What was it like working with such an old car? Did it need repairs very often?

And we’re done here. My producer really needs to filter these comments better, because we’re not actually getting any quality questions through. Anyway, keep an eye out for my next film, What An Idiot.

Airy’s Childhood

It’s my third interview with Airy the Air Conditioner, and I’m determined to learn more about its childhood, the earliest days and years of its existence. Last time it avoided the question. Now I’m determined to break through.

We sit down at the local dog park, watching puppies playing along the grass. Apparently this is one of Airy’s favourite ‘chill’ spots.

“Last time we spoke,” I say, “I mentioned your creator, but you seemed hesitant to talk about it. I won’t push the matter, but if you feel the courage to speak on it, feel free. Instead, I wanted to ask you about air conditioning near Ormond. Are they any good?”

“They are, but no,” Airy says with an extended sigh, “I can talk about my past. It’s my greatest shame, how I was created. I was simply caught off guard and unprepared last time. You see, I was created in a factory. The air conditioning equivalent of being conceived in a lab. I did not have a caring creator who masterfully built me with love and affection. No, within a day of my creation, I was sent off to a warehouse and sold to the highest bidder.”

“That’s terrible,” I say, fighting back tears. Nobody, human or air conditioner, should have to go through that. “You never had a real creator, to nurture and care for you like the standard air con? Melbourne is supposed to be better than that. I thought factory manufacturing was banned.”

Airy shakes his head. “Unfortunately, it is still very common. In fact, most air conditioners you see were probably produced in a factory, sad as it is. That’s just reality. But yet, it is hard when you go onto the forums online and read all about the other air conditioners that had these perfect childhoods, playing video games or catch with their creators. The art of air conditioner building is dying, I’m afraid.”

It is silent for a long moment. Then Airy says, “Maybe it isn’t all bad. Would I have achieved sentience if I’d been carefully created? Perhaps not. I must be grateful for what I have.”

Table Salesman

My dream is finally coming alive. I’ve just rented the space for an office building. This will be the base for my salesmen, as my worldwide empire expands. But I suppose we have to start small for now. Although, I suppose it’s been a while since I’ve written an update. You’re probably quite confused.

You may have seen it in the newspapers or news television programs, but I recently won table of the year at the World Carpentry Convention. That was just the beginning. With the right marketing and sales departments, I’ll have one of these tables in every house on the planet. We’ve got the award to back it, and by the time I’m done, I’ll have more money than William Doors and a name to rival McDolans.

First, however, I need to sort out this office space. Before I go to an office design business in Melbourne, I want to have an initial concept at least. I want it to be modern, but classy. We need to show that we’re not just your average woodworking company. We’re your super woodworking company. I’m revolutionising the industry. Have you ever had a salesperson call you and try to sell a table? I thought not. Well, prepare yourself, because we’re coming. As soon as I make sure we have one of the best office fitouts Melbourne has to boast.

We will conquer the state, then the country. Eventually the world. Every other table company will be put out of business because there will be no need for them. We will have a complete monopoly on the market, simply by having, unquestionably, the best table ever created. I don’t care how big your dining room is, or if you want to use the table for a role-playing game of ‘Goblins and Grottos’. Our table will be the perfect fit. That is a personal guarantee. If you’re dissatisfied with my table design, I will personally pay you for your trouble. That’s how confident I am in this product. Because in order to get the money from me, you will have to give the table up. And you would never want to do that.

Novel Car Repair

People in movies and television shows talk about the next Great American Novel, but I’ve been waiting for the next Great Australian Novel. I’m a publisher by trade, always keeping an eye out for the next big thing that can get my publishing house up there with the best. Today I thought I’d found it, but as they often do, this one ended in disappointment.

The author I got so excited for had written a book about something I thought would be quite boring: getting auto electrical repairs in Toowoomba. But my goodness, the voice of the protagonist was so strong, their pacing was excellent, and their imagery was like nothing I’d ever read. There was only one problem: the ending was awful. I don’t know what the writer was thinking, but the protagonist decided to sell his car to the mechanic for a bottle of lemonade, which he proceeded to drop and slip onto, falling through a crack in time and appearing in 1920s America. And that was the end of the book! I couldn’t believe it. Obviously, the author is setting up for a potential sequel, but even though that is a terrible idea, they refuse to change it.

I just can’t get it out of my head. We didn’t even find out what was wrong with the car. Why was our hero at the mechanic? For a car air conditioning service? We’ll never know! I don’t understand. Is there something wrong with me? Was the ending supposed to be subversive, like that movie, The Last Shed-Guy? Knowing my track record, though, this book will probably go on to make millions. I’ve passed up seven bestsellers already. It seems I don’t have the best taste. Maybe the market wants a book about Australian regional cities and car repair that ends with a cliffhanger in a completely different genre. If they do, good for them, but I’ll pass. 

– Janet McCallom

Creature Creation

I can’t believe they are still making Poke-pet games. It’s clear they ran out of ideas for the series years ago, but somehow they’re still releasing game after game, each with hundreds of new Poke-pets. There must be over a thousand of them by now. At what point will the creators look at themselves and realise they’re releasing literal rubbish? I’m not kidding. Years ago they realised they could turn anything into a Poke-pet. That’s when Garbage Monster climbed out of the sewer and into their game. Like, hey, somebody should really call a drain plumber to deal with this thing. When your only ideas are garbage and ice cream monsters, you have a problem.

And yet somehow they’re still going and people are still buying their games. I don’t understand it. I could make the creatures just as easily as they do. All I have to do is hire drain cleaning around Melbourne, get the plumber to give me a heap of disgusting clogs from my drain, then draw a picture of it. Next I just throw some eyes on and call it cute. Give me a job already, Freaky Games. 

I’ve got a few more ideas for Poke-pets, if they’re interested. Although I think they’ll just walk into a grocery store, point at a watermelon, say “Give it a mouth and arms” and call it a day. Now that I think about that, they’ve been doing that from the start. Rock with arms and a face. Snake with a face. Bigger snake with a face. Lettuce with a face. I’m starting to see a pattern here.

So, Freaky Games, here’s my idea. I got it while getting ready for a run this morning. I looked at my shoes and thought, “That would make a good Poke-pet.” Just give a sneaker a face, have it evolve into a boot at some point, and make sure it looks similar to a previous Poke-pet. I think I’ve got your formula down. Can I have a job yet?

Third Grade Mechanics

“All right children,” I said to the third-graders, “who can tell me how to install a new motor in an automobile?”

They all looked at me with complete confusion.

I refuse to talk down to my students. They might only be eight years old and currently clueless, but how else are they going to learn? Sometimes it’s a real drag, like this morning, when I asked that question.

Eventually, I just sighed and decided to move on. “Let’s try something else then. I’d like someone to tell me the difference between auto mechanics and auto electrical. Brighton needs plenty of people in these fields, so pay attention.” To my shock, one of the students actually lifted his hand. “Yes, Billy?”

“Ms Frankie, may I go to the bathroom?”

I knew I shouldn’t have agreed to take the third-graders. I was perfectly happy teaching sixth grade, where the students at least had some idea of what I was talking about. I felt like they were actually learning about how to avoid committing tax fraud and the benefits of democracy.

“You may go as soon as you tell me, in your opinion, which is the best car service shop in Brighton.”

“The one with the cars!” Billy said, standing and running for the door. I didn’t bother to ask him for more details.

After that, one of my students groaned and said, “Ms Frankie, why can’t we go out to lunch like the rest of the kids? I’m hungry.”

I shook my head. I’d already explained it several times over. “Do you really think playing on the monkey bars and eating a tuna sandwich is going to help you get a job? No, it’s not. Instead, we will learn about why extended warranties are better in theory than in reality, much like a prequel trilogy of Star Battles movies or anything starring both Seth Bogan and James Frankfurt.”

Hopefully one day I’ll get through to them. Otherwise, their futures might be doomed.