Interview with Gar
Where DEP's all-purpose slave talks about sharing litterboxes, his pickle-eating technique, and probably some other stuff.

El Borracho brings out a microphone and shoves it in Gar's face. "Now then, Mr. Gar."
Gar peers cross-eyed at the mic.
El Borracho: Er... why are you called Gar, anyway? Is it some sort of obscure fish fetish?
Gar: Actually I'm named after a bit character in a long forgotten adventure game featuring anthropomorphic animals....Gar was originally a throw-away character I was using to get used to furcadia..he kinda stuck.
El Borracho: I see. Now then, most of our readers probably haven't ever heard of you. What exactly do you do at DEP, besides fetching coffee and donuts?
The Muskrat: ¡Ay caramba!
Gar: I do other things? Well, I hear I'm good at backrubs and apparently give the best hugs in the office. :-)
The Muskrat is frightened by Gar's portrait.

 

(You see Gar.)
The Persona Of All In Me That Is Furry. [ Never be afraid to try something new. Remember, amateurs built the ark. Professionals built the Titanic.] [Even if you are on the right track, you'll get run over if you just sit there.] [An optimist thinks that this is the best possible world. A pessimist fears that this is true.] [You don't stop laughing because you grow old, you grow old because you stopped laughing.] :-) o.O
Gar: Better?

 

(You see Gar.)
The Persona Of All In Me That Is Furry. [ Never be afraid to try something new. Remember, amateurs built the ark. Professionals built the Titanic.] [Even if you are on the right track, you'll get run over if you just sit there.] [An optimist thinks that this is the best possible world. A pessimist fears that this is true.] [You don't stop laughing because you grow old, you grow old because you stopped laughing.] :-) o.O
The Muskrat dies from a heart attack.
El Borracho: I see. And how much do they pay you for that, Gar?
Gar: I get chocolate macadamia-nut cookies, as many as I want, and once a week they let me see the sun, if I'm good and haven't forgotten to change the litterboxes.
The Muskrat: Does each DEP member have their own litterbox?
Gar: They do if I remember to change them, but sometimes I let things slip and we have to share for a bit.
The Muskrat: Kinky.
El Borracho: That sounds very disturbing.
The Muskrat: I mean, yes, disturbing.
Gar: It's not as bad at one might think.
El Borracho: You both disgust me. Moving on, though... did you make this? http://www.digomarket.com/skin/lah.gif
Gar: No, but I helped make this yesterday: http://www.furcadia.com/thanksgiving/images/sweet-large.jpg
Gar: See, no litterboxes.
El Borracho: I see that you celebrate Thanksgiving with pickles. Do you like pickles?
The Muskrat applauds heartily!
Gar: I do, several times a month in fact.
El Borracho: I'll bet you do.
Gar: That's what I just said.
The Muskrat: I, also, will bet you do, because you did indeed just say it.
The Muskrat is very agreeable.
El Borracho: How do you like to eat your pickles?
Gar: With my teeth, usually.
El Borracho: Ouch. I don't like that at all.
Gar: I was the one who likes pickles, we never asked if you liked them.
The Muskrat: El Borracho, do you like pickles?
Gar: Ok, now you may answer, speak up.
El Borracho: It.. I... maybe... sometimes...
Gar: I'll bet you do.
The Muskrat: Well!
El Borracho: THIS INTERVIEW IS OVER!
The Muskrat: Now it comes out!
Gar: Already?
El Borracho storms off in a huff.

 

This is where the interview ends, but, as usual, it didn't really end there.

Gar: Do I get paid now?
El Borracho: I... I can't figure out how to get out of this place.
The Muskrat: There is your payment.
Gar: I'll tell you for a pickle
El Borracho: But... we just met...
Gar: True, I never dill on a first date.
Gar: I guess you'll just have to stay here until our next date.
El Borracho cries softly to himself.
Gar: Is the interview still over?
El Borracho: I guess so. We're not very professional, are we?
Gar: Are the credits rolling yet? ..did they spell my name wrong again?
The Muskrat: Barrel.
The Muskrat vomits into the barrel.
The Muskrat: That was fun!
Gar: How uncouth.
The Muskrat: You guys should try this!
El Borracho: I thought I told you to stop eating grass, The Muskrat.
The Muskrat: Yeah, well I told you to stop eating... the... stupid!
The Muskrat falls over
El Borracho: I have one more question, Gar?
El Borracho: That's a question, somehow.
Gar: That's a relief, I only have one more answer.
El Borracho: If I were to submit a portrait with nipples all over its face -- but not the chest -- would you approve it?
Gar props The Muskrat up with sticks of velveeta.
The Muskrat: Fnurgh.
The Muskrat stands on display... delicious, delicious display.
Gar: Nope, no nipples allowed, we even censor them on baby bottles, assuming anyone ever cared to submit a portrait of a baby bottle.
El Borracho: I hate babies.
Gar: I'm sure they don't think very much of you either.
The Muskrat: I love babies! ^_^
The Muskrat: They're delicious! ^_^
The Muskrat: Also, something terrible has happened to my eyes! ^_^
Gar: Your eyes look fine to me, they're all dotted.
El Borracho: So who's that in the picture, Gar?
The Muskrat: Oh, maybe I'm imagining it! ^_^
El Borracho: Is it Cluracan? I know how you guys love him.
Gar: That's another question, do you want me to run at an answer deficit for this interview? ..I could get in trouble.
The Muskrat: Don't worry, I'll let you borrow some of my answers.
El Borracho: Oh, no, the interview is over. I'm just asking, off the record.
Gar: Thanks, very kind of you.
El Borracho keeps holding the microphone in front of Gar.
Gar: Records? so it's a music question?
El Borracho: Speaking of music, how much would you say you love Clay Aiken?
The Muskrat: Elbow, I think I've figured it out... it must be a giant kiwi in that picture.
The Muskrat: Is Cluracan a giant kiwi?
El Borracho: Hmm.. maybe.... you never know what kind of freaky animals they have at Dragonland Ranch.
Gar: First music, now salad dressing, i'm getting confused.
El Borracho: Then our work here is done.
El Borracho: Come, Patsy.
Gar: But you still can't get out?
El Borracho: Oh.... right...
The Muskrat clicks coconut halves together.