As a rule, I never divulge any details about my life. I just don’t get into it; I keep my lips tightly zipped on the subject. I don’t want anyone getting to know too much about me, you see. I don’t want anyone knowing anything about me really, but the trouble with that is that if you don’t tell people something then they start to get suspicious – they start to smell a rat and that isn’t good. They start to notice you then and that’s never good. So I tell them a bit, I tell them a little bit. I have a few things that I just kind of ‘throw out there’ – I throw a few intriguing morsels out there just to put folk off the scent. That’s very important, you see – that is in fact the most important thing. You have to make sure to throw people off the scent. Always throw them off the scent.
I’m here, but I’m also there; I am there but I’m also here. That’s how bi-location works you see – that’s the cool thing about it. That’s the cool thing about bi-location. I’m me, but I’m also you – that’s another cool thing. Super-cool. Tell them nothing, that’s what I say. Tell the bastards nothing. They’re greedy for personal information so they can turn around and use it against you. Always so greedy. I had a plan to solve the problem, but then I realised that my plan was the problem! ‘Never divulge the details’, I tell myself earnestly. ‘Never divulge the special private details.’ ‘They want to weasel all your special private and personal information out of you,’ I told myself, ‘but as soon as you do this you’re finished. They’ll use all of that information against you – you see if they don’t…’
‘Ideal women will choose to love you,’ the advert said solemnly. Ideal women will choose to. ‘Don’t let toxins build up in your body,’ the advert continued brightly, barely skipping a beat. ‘If you do that then that will surely be the end of you.’ I like listening to the advert – he’s company for me and the truth is that I’m awfully tired of being on my own the whole time. The advert follows me around, chatting to me as it goes and winking from time to time in a friendly fashion. It gives me useful advice and warns me about dangerous things, just like a real friend would do. It tells me about groundbreaking innovations and inventions that I absolutely have to know about.
‘Don’t tell them all your private and personal stuff’, the cheerful little advert warns me, ‘if you do that then straight away evil forces will take control of you and you will lose your vitally important and very precious soul-spark. You’ll become one of the Living Dead then and you’ll have to join the vast hordes of the Dead Ones as they roam pointlessly and endlessly up and down the streets.’ ‘Make sure to keep all your secrets secret,’ he continued, ‘otherwise all sorts of foul and unclean entities will come to roost inside you in the place where your soul should be and your life will be blighted with their terrible foulness. You will become a spiritual outcast then…’ All these things and more the advert told me. He was my only friend, I realised. He was my only friend in the whole wide world.
