A Girl Named Pip Who Lives in My Heart: Bumblefuck Kid vs Wintermute

Bumblefuck Kid: I got a record by a band called Black Flag from my older brother who went to a hardcore show up in Albany once. There was an insert in there to purchase some SST records. I bought some records by bands called The Minutemen, Husker Du, Dinosaur, and the Meat Puppets. Then I went to my school computer (we have the internets here in Bumblefuck County) and I looked up other bands with my friend Bumblefuck Sue. We started an awesome duo influenced by this kickass band we heard on Garageband called Flat Duo Jets, and are in the process of recording our first record. It’s an indigent musical exploration of the Beirut sewers in the 1980’s by a young girl named Pip. Expect to be charmed, disillusioned, tickled pink and nauseated. Will Pip ever live up to her dreams of marrying a wealthy Frenchman, or will she succumb to the undeniable desires that lie in her bosom of becoming a sensitive lesbian folksinger? Find out for yourself, as soon as we finish it!

Wintermute: Did you spend a lot of time in Beirut in the 1980s? It was a lovely place to be an Overlord at that point. So many grubs. So many earthworms. I tingle at the memory!

Bumblefuck Kid: No, I’ve never been to Beirut. It’s kind of like how Barry Gibb was never in New York, but he still wrote a heart-rending ballad about a mining disaster there, that took place in 1941, five years before he was born. Actually, truth be told, I don’t know where Beirut is. But I know a lot about a little girl named Pip with whom I share a heart.

Wintermute: That’s fascinating, this not going someplace but writing about it. Have you ever actually been a girl named Pip? Because sharing a heart, that’s just got to be hard.

Bumblefuck Kid: It is, Mister Wintermute, it is! Sometimes I just start crying and I have no idea why. And then I get these conflicted urges to make love to wealthy Frenchman even though I know I should be marrying a beautiful woman. Truth is, wealthy Frenchmen make me sick. But, who knows, marrying one might get me more access to the beautiful women I so want to make love to. Until my wealthy French husband finds out and has me castrated, anyway.

Wintemute: Let’s imagine what it might be like, being with a Frenchman, shall we? Is he gentle with you? Does he have strong hands or facial hair? Pets? Will he allow you to pursue your musical career, or will your debut album also be your swan song? Also, how many beautiful women will we be able to access?

Bumblefuck Kid: No, I don’t want to imagine such things. You don’t seem to understand that I’m talking about a real girl named Pip that lives inside my heart. She communicates with me in a language I cannot understand, the language of love. And she is real. You might want to talk to me when I’m having one of my seizures.

Wintermute: Lives in your heart? I’m confused. Did you eat this little girl? And if so, then why haven’t you just pooped her out? Please explain.

Bumblefuck Kid: I didn’t swallow her. I don’t know how she got in there. I think a psychiatrist implanted her while I was under hypnosis. Either that or during my electroshock treatment to cure my homosexuality.

Wintermute: So Pip is a lesbian?

Bumblefuck Kid: She doesn’t know it yet, but yeah, she’s definitely a lesbian. I know because she’s really into Boyskout.

Wintermute: When you’re on the couch, you have to watch their busy hands, don’t you?

Bumblefuck Kid: Well, when I was hypnotised and undergoing shock therapy, I don’t really remember much. I just know that I’m less crazy now.

Wintermute: And, yet, you have a little vagina in your heart. I’m intrigued. Tell me how that informs your songwriting.

Bumblefuck Kid: Sometimes, especially on this album we’re working on, the vagina really comes through. Then I start to write about stupid topics like heartbreak and romantic love and murder. If it weren’t for Pip, I’d just be writing about war and getting drunk all the time.

Wintermute: I hear you. Now I understand how your aura is full of so many pastels. I like that a lot.

Bumblefuck Kid: Fuck that “aura” new age shit! I don’t do that pussy garbage!

Pip: That’s not true! I love pastels! I love to color pictures of lesbian hearts with them! I’m in the middle of a pastel rock opera right now. It centers on Princess Leia, torn between her marriage to Charlton Heston and her lesbian desires for members of Sleater-Kinney, Le Tigre, and Boyskout. The part of Princess Leia will be played by John Travolta. In drag. With a Freddie Mercury mustache.

Bumblefuck Kid: mumble . . . . drool . . . . mumble . . . twitch . . .

Wintermute: Isn’t Charlton Heston dead now? And if so, can I have his gun? Seriously, though, how did Princess Leia wind up with Moses?

Bumblefuck Kid: Uhhh . . . what are you talking about? And why are your busy hands in my lap?

Wintermute: Because I swallowed a wealthy Frenchman and can’t shit him out. Save me!