INTERVIEW WITH GIB RAIL, THE FIRST MAN IN THE WORLD TO BREAK UP WITH HIS OWN REFLECTION

Me: We’ve seen you do some pretty outrageous things over the years, but what you pulled off last week has got to be the most extreme. Why do it? Why break up with someone that's often so loved?

Gib Rail: Well, to be blunt, no one liked him.

Me: No one liked him? But shouldn’t love depend on whether you like him, not on how everyone else does?

Gib Rail: Well, that’s what I was thinking at first, but then, since no one liked him, and since everyone kept telling me how he should change, how his hair should change, how his voice should change, how he handled money should change, how his accent should change, how every fucking thing should change, then I guess I started to realise that he was, well, worthless.

Me: So what did you do?

Gib Rail: What?

Me: So what did you do?

Gib Rail: Come again, sorry?

Me: So, what, did, you, do?

Gib Rail: I killed him.

Me: You killed him?

Gib Rail: Yeah, I killed him.

Me: What?

Gib Rail: I killed him.

Me: You’re confessing right now, to the world, to the radio and online community, that you murdered your own lover? I was, uh (looks through interview papers, then at David, who shrugs), under the impression that you simply broke up with your reflection. You actually, uh, murdered him?

Gib Rail: Yes, I murdered him.

Me: (pauses for a minute) Um, how did you do it?

Gib Rail: I hit him a few times. I strangled him. He fought back, so I tried suffocating him with my Nike socks. Then I beat him in the face a few times with my new iPod Nano. It was too small, though. He kept screaming and crying like a wuss, so I frantically looked around for something, anything to shut him up, and I found a study guide to Romeo and Juliet, so I scrunched that up and stuffed it in his mouth. It didn’t do the job, so I found a gossip magazine, and I tore out a page about Britney Spears and her ex husband and jabbed it into his arsehole as deep as I could. I rushed around the room and found a few Christmas presents. I threw all sorts of boxed and wrapped presents at him. Fifty dollar bills rained down like confetti from everywhere. I hit him again and dragged him to the bathroom. I slammed his head against a wall because he kept fighting back. I found some hair spray and sprayed it all over his face. I found a razor blade and slashed at him, cutting him through his beard. For some reason, I could hear A Current Affair in the background, something about the Liberal Party and the latest diet craze.

Me: (mouth open) Um… so, your lover died?

Gib Rail: Well, to cut a long story short, yes, he eventually died. I killed him.

INTERMISSION

Me: I also hear you’ve got a new reflection now.

Gib Rail: Yes, and you know what? Everyone loves her. She’s a better looking reflection than so many out there, and I highly advise everyone on murdering their own reflections. Out with the old, and in with the new! Here, look at her photo.

Me: Wow, I wasn’t intending on doing this… but… your new reflection actually looks good. I’ve got an erection from just staring at it. That’s amazing. Well, Gib Rail, thank you for your time. I think I’m gonna go home and murder my own reflection now.

Gib Rail: (smiles) No, Dean, thank you.

Gib Rail is the author of Why We Were Born to Find Different Bodies. He will be touring Australia for a month, and then he will become a moth and fly away and continue the rest of his life with the soldiers in Iraq.