“This is your host, Trixie Talkalot, and welcome to all my wonderful listeners to Talk with Trixie. Tonight we are live with a very special treat; I would like to introduce my guest for this evening's show, Snarth, the galaxy's most notorious seeker of pleasures and the galaxy's most eligible bachelor. Thank you for being on my show, Snarth. I must say I was quite surprised that you accepted my invitation: you are a hard being to get in touch with. In fact, I think I am in a long-term relationship with your personal assistant mech, I have spoken to her so much.”
“It isss my pleasssure to be here, Trixie, Do you mind if I sssmoke? I find thisss herb native to the planet called Earth to be mossst relaxing. You really mussst try it, itsss pleasure isss exquisssite,” Snarth hissed as he took a packet of neatly rolled smokers from his jacket pocket.
“Please, Snarth, get comfortable, and then we can talk about all of the nasty rumors surrounding you. And yes, I will try your herb, as you are renowned for only collecting the finest things in the galaxy,” said Trixie as she accepted the offered smoker.
“If we are going to talk about the rumorsss, I will need a refressshing drink. I will sssummon my mech ssservant to bring a brew from the sssame planet, Earth. It isss called Belgian ale. Would you like sssome? It isss from a little abbey in a place called Belgium where the monksss have been brewing their own ssspecial ale for over 500 rotationsss of Earth's ssstar. I like it ssso much I buy their entire sssupply every year,” hissed Snarth as he used the communicator on his wrist, exhaling a perfect smoke circle.
“This herb has a most interesting effect, Snarth; I can see why you like it. You call this Belgian ale?" asked Trixie as she tilted the bottle, taking her first sip of the golden liquid. "It has a wonderful taste. But sampling your pleasures is not why I asked you to be on the show,” said Trixie, making Snarth's facial tentacles ripple in his version of a grimace of displeasure at having his sharing of pleasures interrupted. “I want to get to know the real Snarth, and the truth about the rumor that you and your team of friends woke the One queen and started another galactic war,” Trixie said, cutting straight to the issue.
Snarth paused, blowing another smoke ring and finishing his first bottle of Belgian ale, then motioning to the mech servant for another. “You certainly don’t wassste any time getting to the hard questionsss, do you, Trixie? I cannot sssay a great deal about that sssituation without the galactic sssecurity ssservice’s censssor’s mechsss getting involved. However, I will sssay thisss: it wasss completely unintentional that my team and I woke the One queen. We alssso killed the queen, with ssseveral membersss of my team being ssseverely injured in the fight. I had no way to know ssshe had already laid another queen egg. We were only after what we thought were galactic banking crystalsss. That is all I can sssay about this without getting into the affairsss of the galactic council. I am quite sssure you want to be able to broadcast thisss interview,” hissed Snarth, a huge tentacle wiggling grin on his face, knowing that if Trixie asked any more questions about the One attack she would never be allowed to use this segment of her show. With what he thought was the worst question out of the way, Snarth signaled for another ale, lit a second smoker, and settled down into the body forming lounger, waiting for the next question.
“That is quite a revelation, Snarth. Now tell me about your team, as you call it," asked Trixie.
“My team is the best team of warriors in the galaxy,” Snarth boasted.
“They cannot be better than a stealth master, Snarth. They are known to be the best assassins in the entire galaxy, except perhaps for the Gorn,” retorted Trixie in disbelief at Snarth's outrageous claim.
“Every member of my team isss fully trained by the finest stealth master who ever lived, my friend OOOssscaaarr and hisss daughter Purrrrrraaaatttteee. There are also two of the finest canine fight masters ever on my team, Rowl and Kareen."
“Wow, that’s quite a line up, Snarth! Anyone else we should know about?” asked Trixie, obviously impressed.
“Yesss," Snarth hissed, "there are also two humans from the planet Earth, Thomas Scott and the Irishman. The human Tom is considered by the felines to be Ja Ha Don."
“Now I know you are telling me stories, Snarth. The Ja Ha Don are just a feline legend,” laughed Trixie.
Snarth blew another perfect smoke ring and stubbed out his smoker. “Oh, really," he hissed. "Tell me, Trixie, what kind of sssecurity do you have at this ssstudio?”
“Only the finest, of course," bragged Trixie. "Not even a stealth master could get in here without being detected, the studio spares no expense. Some of our guests have prices on their heads.”
“Are you absssolutely sssure about that?” hissed Snarth, egging Trixie on.
“I am so sure that I stake my professional reputation on it," scoffed Trixie.
“I was hoping you would say that," hissed Snarth, with another of his huge grins. "Ladies and gentlemen, if you please, show Trixie just how safe she is.” On his command, the team de-cloaked, Purraattee’s feline blade at Trixie’s throat.
Snarth stood, walked over to Trixie and bent down to look her in the face. “I told you the truth about what happened on the forbidden planet. If you ever misssquote me again or fabricate ssstories about me or my team, we will visit you again. Consssider yourssself lucky: you got a warning, this time. Next time, I will not ssstay Purraattee’s feline blade. Isss that perfectly clear, Trixie? Thisss interview is over,” he hissed, as they all re-cloaked, disappearing from sight.