Reporter: “Excuse me, but I’m looking for Brian of Bonnywood.”

Jean: “Oh. Well, you won’t find him here.”

Reporter: “But my sources tell me that Brian is staying at this villa while he’s in Spain. Did I make a wrong turn somewhere?”

Jean: “Honey, we all make wrong turns all the time. That’s why alcohol was invented, so we can get over it and move on. Unless you’re a Republican, in which case you spend the rest of your life blaming others for your own wrong turns.”

Reporter: “That sounds like one of my family reunions. Anyway, do you know which villa is Brian’s? It’s got to be around here somewhere. I can smell the desperate need for attention.”

Jean: “Oh, this is the right villa. He’s just not here right now.”

Reporter: “Interesting. One would think you could have provided a little more clarity with your first response.”

Jean: “I could have. But then this dialogue would have been shorter, and we all know that Brian likes to stretch things out far more than he should. I’m assuming you haven’t read his first book. That thing is longer than most countries have existed.”

Reporter: “Nope, haven’t read it. Life’s too short. And in this short life, I really need to get a message to Brian from his followers. Do you know when he might return?”

Jean: “Well, at the moment, he and his cohorts are in Granada, touring the Alhambra. I have no idea when they’ll get back, because one of those heathens is bound to do something insipid and there might be some complications. Perhaps you could leave the message with me? I’ll write it down later after I’m done lounging around aimlessly by this swimming pool.”

Reporter: “His followers are concerned that he hasn’t been responding to their comments on his posts. It seems a bit rude.”

Jean: “Oh, I can help you with that. This villa is on the outskirts of a tiny village in the middle of nowhere. The wi-fi signal here is weaker than the morality of Vladimir Putin. It takes three hours to get a blog post uploaded to the airwaves, never mind fiddle with the comments. He’ll get around to it, all in good time.”

Reporter: “I suppose that will have to do. By the way, you look very familiar. Do I know you?”

Jean: “Probably not, unless you happen to be a peroxide distributor.”

Reporter: “That sounds like a very inside joke.”

Jean: “It is, a gift to Brian’s followers who relish the arcane trivia that usually doesn’t make sense unless you read the tags on the post.”

Reporter: “Yeah, well, I usually don’t even read the posts, never mind the tags. I just click ‘like’ and carry on. That’s how most people vote in America. Anyway, thank you for your time. I’ll be going now.”

Jean: “Before you head back to the emptiness of your life, could you ring that bell sitting on the little table over there?”

Reporter: “And what will that do?”

Jean: “It will alert Ducky Bob that I need another beverage. He’s working off a certain gambling debt and must provide nectar at my beckoning.”

Reporter: “You can’t ring it yourself?”

Jean: “Of course not. I’m on vacation. Just like Brian. Cheers!”