Clayton began reading the Brothers Grimm, Hans Christian Anderson, Madeline L’Engle, and others, at an early age. It ignited a love of the odd, the darkly funny, and the magical in him that never left. Over the past few years, he’s published several short stories with various magazines, and three novels with small presses. When he’s not telling stories, he works as a systems administrator for a game retailer. In his off time, he games, he cooks, and he attempts to play guitar. He currently lives in North Dakota with his wife, two dogs, and a cat that insists it’s the other way around.
If you had to choose between eating a talking gorilla and the Pope, which would it be?
As much as I’d like to earn money showing my talking gorilla around, I just don’t feel like picking up cannibalism as my new diet. Besides, I kind of like the current Pope, he is an odd one.
What would you do with the hat after?
After what? And what kind of hat are we talking about? A summer hat? A regular hat? A top hat? And if it’s a top hat, does it have a bunny living in it? Do I have to give the bunny a place to live once I take away its home? You need to give me more specific info!
Do you think birds are just terrified of heights, and that’s what all the shrieking’s about?
I never thought about it, but I actually like that explanation. If we follow that train of thought… we have birds in the backyard which starts to sing in the middle of the fucking night. I guess they are afraid of darkness?
If you met Edgar Allen Poe in a dark alley and he started shouting at you to punch him in the face so he can finally feel something, would you?
If that ever happened first I would try not to pee myself, and then run away. Then go find a good therapist to cure me of nightmares.
If Breaking Benjamin suddenly pivoted to polka, is that a sign of the end times?
Hell yes. If that ever happens please kill me. I don’t want to be here when the world ends. Thanks.
Johnny has three pineapples. Stephen has seven. Mark has four. If a train leaves Kamchatka at 8am carrying three assassins of the Pineapple Cabal, how long until they reach the fruit thieves?
If I leave Budapest know, how long until I can get to you and strangle you for asking me these questions?
You ever wonder what blue tastes like?
Now I do. Do you happen to have a few bites of blue around?
This one time, I fell two stories out of tree onto a board with a nail in it. It really hurt. Not a question, just reliving past trauma.
Aww. Here, let me pat your head in consolation.
For anyone who’s lived through the 90s, do you think we’re being punished now for the Macarena, as some sort of karmic roshambo?
Hahahahaha. I’m quite sure Despacito was a punishment for something. Maybe for the Macarena or for Blue by Eiffel 65.
You ever practice semantic satiation?
(I totally didn’t have to look this up)
(I still don’t understand completely what is this about)
I think I can answer: nope.
If you had to pick between having dinner with Jonathan Franzen and being eaten by wild dogs, what sauce would you coat yourself with?
Wait, what if I chose the dinner with Jonathan Franzen? Do I still have to coat myself in sauce? I’m quite sure people would look at me funny if I walked in a restaurant dripping honey-mustard sauce. Besides, I don’t have a dress to match to it. And why would I be eaten by wild dogs? I don’t fancy dying that way. I’m too skinny to fill their stomach.
To-may-TOE or anarchy?
I’d go with to-may-TOE. The only acceptable social structure would be a dictatorship, where I’m the dictator of course.
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