text: “Hello there, sir. Would you mind telling me what you are doing at this here Quick-Market?” “Buying groceries, sir. My wife wants to make a tomato soup and she ran out of bread. She wanted me to get her a loaf. Sourdough, I think, for a toastie-“ “Good to know, sir. And would you mind giving your name?” “James Watson, sir, and my wife’s is Anna-“ “I don’t actually care about her name right now. I’m here to interview you.” “You’re from a news station?” “Yes, hence why I’m standing in front of a camera and am holding a microphone.” “Oh. I just thought you were one of those hippies.” “Mr. Watson, sir, hippies went out of style five decades ago.” “Well I’m sorry. There’s too many of these newfangled trends; I just want my tomato-“ “Anyway, Mr. Watson, sir, if you’re fine with beginning...” “Yes, we can start.” Camera ON. “Hello and welcome to the Herald Town News; my name is Philip Bell, and I am here introducing eyewitness Mr. James Watson. Mr. Watson, sir, why are you here at the QuickShop?” “To buy a loaf of bread--I thought you didn’t care about my wife-“ Camera OFF. “Mr. Watson, sir, please just answer the question.” Camera ON. “Well, my wife wants to make a pot of soup and toasties but she’s all out of bread, so I came here to get a loaf of sourdough.” “And tell me, did you notice anything suspicious while you were shopping.” “Yes, yes, I think I heard a girl screaming.” “Do you know who this girl is?” “No, no, I don’t, but I think-” Camera OFF. “She’s a toddler. A toddler was screaming.” “But I’m pretty sure I saw a cashier screaming. It sounded like a cashier.” “Cashiers don’t have a particular sound, and even if they do, I want you to say it was a toddler.” Camera ON. “A toddler was screaming. She’s about two-and-a-half feet tall, I think, so maybe four years old? She could just be small for her age-“ “Thank you, Mr. Watson, sir. And do you happen to know why she was screaming?” “If you mean the cashier then yes, I think it was something with her boss.” Camera OFF. “What is it I told you about the cashier?” “To not talk about her, I know, but she’s all I remember seeing. There was no toddler.” “There was, I’m telling you. A toddler was screaming because her mother refused to buy a cookie. Say that, okay?” Camera ON. “This little girl wanted a cookie--chocolate-chip, if I recall correctly, or maybe oatmeal--and her mother said no, or else she would spoil her dinner. But the poor girl had her heart set on that cookie and started to cry.” “Would your children behave this way?” “I don’t have children.” “Mr. Watson, sir, do you know any children?” “Yes, I do. My wife is a teacher-“ “And would these children behave like that young girl?” “Would they work in a grocery store? No; as my wife says, they’re all brilliant and can aspire to much more-“ Camera OFF. “Mr. Watson, sir, repeat to me what I told you about the cashier.” “Ignore her. She doesn’t exist.” “Precisely. Now, would you mind continuing?” “Okay.” Camera ON. “As I said, Mr. Watson, sir, would your wife’s students behave this way?” “I do think so. Every now and then, children get cranky: it’s what they do.” “Would you have behaved this way?” “I don’t think so, because I know I wouldn’t have gotten any dinner at all.” “And here enlies the problem, Herald Town. Children these days do not receive the proper punishments, resulting in improper behavior. Mr. James Watson over here did not have a behavioral problem in his youth due to his parents’ firm discipline.” “It wasn’t my parent’s--it was my aunt.” Camera OFF. “Who was it that withheld your dinner, Mr. Watson, sir?” “My aunt. My parents both got polio, back when it was bad. Before the vaccine.” “So your aunt raised you, I take it?” “Yes. My aunt, and sometimes my uncle, but he was at work. Trying to treat polio, actually, so I knew that the more of his time I took, the less help my parents would receive. That was flawed logic, though, because my parents didn’t-“ “Mr. Watson, sir, I’d love to hear your personal history, but not right now. We have a news story to cover. Don’t you think more parents should treat their children like your aunt did to you?” “No, not really. I was terrified for a few years that we were poor, and when I went to college, I purely stuffed myself, and then I had to go on a weight-loss plan, and now I’m still stressed when my wife runs out of food. That’s why I’m here, buying bread-“ “Wonderful. Well, unfortunately for you, that does not fit with the thread of the story at all, so you’re going to need to say that what your aunt did to you was good after all. Understand?” “Yes, yes, I think I do.” Camera ON. “Mr. Watson, sir, didn’t your aunt’s disciplinary tactics shape you into who you are today?” “They certainly did. Now I am a completely well-adjusted adult with absolutely no lingering anxiety. In fact, I’d go so far as to call myself exceptionally honest and moral -“ Camera OFF. “You’re laying it on too thick, Mr. Watson.” Camera ON. “Thanks to my aunt, I never threw a tantrum as a child. Not once. Not like that little girl.” “So I would be correct in my connection that parents these days are too lenient?” “If you mean the parents of that cashier’s boss, then yes, parents are too lenient. What kind of a boss would make his employee scream?” Camera OFF. “Mr. Watson, sir, how well did you do in school?” “Excuse me?” “You are obviously lacking in basic comprehension. What part of-“ “I know, I know, don’t talk about the cashier! But I heard her scream and I saw her boss right there with her, and I think it would callous of me to not be suspicious as to why he was making her scream-“ “I literally could not care less.” Camera ON. “Well, um...well, I guess parents are a bit too lenient with their kids.” “ Way too lenient.” “Yes...way too lenient. They need to be better parents.” “’Better parents’ is right. How, Mr. Watson, sir, do you think parents can improve?” “Well...they can improve by disciplining their kids, and to discipline their kids without being lenient...I’d say they out to be stricter. Parents need to be firm, have confidence, and resist being knocked over by anybody else.”