TOM - You forgot athletic.
ME - Right, sorry. Tom Cruise, the mega-super star, box office king who is revered for his good looks, charm, and athletic prowess. How's that?
TOM - You should say it with more enthusiasm.
ME - This is for a blog, no one is going to detect enthusiasm in my voice.
TOM - Then write it in all caps.
ME - Fine. TOM CRUISE, THE MEGA-SUPER STAR, BOX OFFICE KING WHO IS REVERED FOR HIS GOOD LOOKS, CHARM, AND ATHELITIC PROWESS. Better?
TOM - Yes.
ME - Good, lets proceed. Reports have recently surfaced from my auntie Linda's house that bigwigs in the church of Scientology have designated you the "chose one," destined to save the human race from whatever crazy bullshit L. Ron Hubbard made up while high on opium. They even go so far as to claim that you're a messiah of sorts, citing your refusal to drink alcohol and ability to outrun an ostrich, as proof.
TOM - Yes, I've heard these rumor myself,....um, sorry, what's your name?
ME - I'd rather not give you any details about myself, I don't want David Miscavige showing up at my house and harassing me and my poodle.
TOM - Oh, I can relate to that. How about I just call you Pablo Diego José Francisco de Paula Juan Nepomuceno María de los Remedios Cipriano de la Santísima Trinidad Ruiz y Picasso. He's my favorite painter.
ME - Lets just go with 'Picasso,' it'll save me time when transcribing this.
TOM - Sounds good, Picasso. Now, where was I?
ME - You were telling me why the church of Scientology thinks you're god.
TOM - Oh, right. Well, I wouldn't necessary call myself god, although if anyone is, it would be me. I prefer the term "Space Deity of the Galactic Confederacy," it flows off the tongue so much easier.
ME - Do you mind if I call you Xenu Christ?
TOM - I like that very much, but no, please don't. Anyway, over the many years of my affiliation with the church I've become a transformational leader, a religious figure with true moral authority. You may be surprised to hear this, but I've developed special powers that allow me to help those suffering from all kind of ailments. I have personally cured drug addicts, women suffering from postpartum depression, men suffering from the women suffering from postpartum depression, women suffering from the men suffering form the women suffering from postpartum depression, and many other disorders.
Now, weather or not this amazing gift of mine qualifies me to be the messiah of Scientology is not for me to say, however with all the millions of dollars I've dumped into the church over the years, that's the least they can do.
ME - And what sort of things are involved with being a Scientology god.
TOM - Well, being the chosen one comes with many responsibilities, not the least of which is helping to spread the word about Scientology. Most people are completely unaware that billions of extraterrestrials were sent to Earth by Xenu, who gathered them by volcanoes and destroyed them with atomic bombs. The souls of those aliens attached themselves to specific humans, known as Thetans, who, on a day of reckoning, will be saved from their lives of spiritual suffering.
ME - Oh I see, part of being the messiah involves being bonkers.
TOM - Look, you can call me all the names you want, but David Miscavige wouldn't have given me the Freedom Medal of Valor in 2004, if I wasn't the chosen one.
ME - What's that?
TOM - It's a shiny gold medallion which is bigger then an Olympic medal, so you know it's important.
ME - Why were you given that?
TOM - In 1944 I joined a group of high-ranking Nazi officials bent on ending the war in Europe by assassinating Adolf Hitler. I understood my role as a colonel in Hitler's army, but I also understood that the Nazis were doing terrible, terrible things. I tried several times to carry out my mission, but failed on each occasion. I was eventually captured and executed by firing squad for my botched attempts on the Fuhrer's life.
ME - Wait a minuet, wasn't that the plot to Valkyrie?
TOM - No.
ME - Yes it was.
TOM - No it wasn't.
ME - There's something wrong with you, you probably need to see a psychiatrist.
TOM - What! A psychiatrist, don't be a fool. Psychiatry is a barbaric and corrupt profession with a long history of improper and abusive care. The entire mental health industry is full of quacks and frauds who over prescribe drugs in an attempt to brainwash the masses into forgetting they are divine beings who have been marred by negative experiences acquired over several lifetimes. If psychiatry were a potato it would be shriveled and sprouted.
ME - I have no idea what that's supposed to mean, and please get down off the couch
TOM - No, I'm very upset.
ME - Do you need to go to a safe space?
TOM - No, I just need a moment....Okay, Tom, just breath deep, everything is gonna be alright, in through the mouth, out through the nose, in through the mouth, out through the nose. Re-center yourself, Tom, don't let him make you angry, he's just a dirty peon you can run over with your car after the interview, no one will care. In through the mouth, out through the nose.
ME - You know I can hear you, right?
TOM - Not if I don't want you too.
ME - Well, you must want me too because I can.
TOM - Whatever.
ME - Okay, maybe we'll just move on. So, being god implies an ethical and moral compass greater then that of ordinary people, yet you've had three failed marriages. Nicole you left when she was pregnant with your child, and Katie was forced to escape like a fart in my sleep, to save her and your daughter from the cult of Scientology, an organization known for its criminal activities and funded by you and your millions. You benefited from a slave labour group known as Sea Org., which provides you with custom cars and a customized plane hanger, all on the backs of people earning 50 dollars a week or less. You publicly endorse an organisation that is involved in forced abortion, ripping families apart, coercing people into giving over their life savings, child labour, even murder. An organisation which in legal spheres is mentioned in one sentence with the Mafia.
So, having said all of that I guess my question is....what's your favorite breakfast cereal?
TOM - I used to like Lucky Charms, but as I get older I find all that sugar makes me gassy. Now I just drink a glass of fresh blood for breakfast.
ME - Blood? Is that a Scientology thing?
TOM - No, it's a Tom thing.
ME - So what about all that other stuff I mentioned? If it's all true, wouldn't that make you more like Cruella de Vil then Jesus of Christ?
TOM - Well, first of all its not all true, we're way to cheap to pay our slaves 50 bucks a week. As for the rest, that's definitely true, just last week I killed a man with a frozen banana for insulting me during an interview.
ME - Oh, shit! In that case how about I just ask you one more question and we wrap this up. It's almost six o'clock anyway, which means I need to go help grandma off the toilet.
TOM - Fine.
ME - Mr. Cruise, can you provide some sort of proof that you are indeed a god, or do we just have to take your word for it, like Jim Jones or Charles Manson?
TOM - Oh, certainly I can prove it, you're gonna love this. I want you to watch my left hand closely. Do you see my thumb?
ME - Yes.
TOM - Now watch as I place my right hand partially over the left one and begin to slide it back and forth, keep your eye on the thumb. Look, look at that, it seems to be detaching from the hand and moving away, yet there's no blood. Boom! Now it's back in place. One more time, watch. See the thumb? Look, it's all normal, nothing up my sleeve, now watch. TA-DA, it's coming off and sliding across my hand! Holy cow, how does he do it.
ME - Well, you've convinced me.
TOM - I knew I would.
ME - Well, thank you very much for your time Mr. Cruise this was very enlightening. And I'm going to assume you were just kidding about running me over in the parking lot. Right?
TOM - Yes, you go ahead and assume that.
ME - Um...was that a yes or a no?
TOM - You'll see.
ME - Shit.