By Matt Freeman
I would fight Neil Gaiman in a bar. For nothing, after two pints. Just for being successful. Just for being Neil Gaiman.
I would pretend to watch the Doggies, but I’d actually be studying him sip his oatmeal stout. We’d chat about folklore before I launched my attack, shrieking like a fiend so dark and indecently-formed that its name is secret, even from him.
I’d take him by surprise, seizing a clump of his rich, floppy hair, and use it to drive his head into the bar. There’d be the satisfying crunch of shattered genius, and Gaiman would leave a smear of blood on the bar.
Freshly-squeezed Gaiman.
I’d step back and assume the Bukowski stance – eyes narrowed, fists up, belly forward.
Gaiman would lift his head and our eyes would meet in the spotty mirror above the bar. His gaze would at first be bewildered, then narrow into focus. He’s already deconstructing me like one of his fairytales.
He’d spin on his stool and stand. Our eyes would not leave each other as we reach for our notebooks. Occasionally, I’d glance up to make sure he is not readying a counter-attack. I’d jot down some impressions. I’d observe that, in the dim light, Gaiman-blood is the exact colour and consistency of HP sauce.
Gaiman’s scribblings are secret, and exceptionally Netflixable. He’d cup his hand over the page like an earnest schoolboy in a test.
We’d sheath our notebooks and he’d stretch to full lankiness, flipping his stout-drenched locks out of his face in a gesture that is part Robert Smith, part Lord Byron.
Fuck him, this self-effacing demi-god who redefined comics for a decade, who can summon book-deals with a single introspection. Who still descends from the realm of mythos to encourage young writers via Twitter. He may know how to explore Freudian themes and deconstruct gothic narratives while maintaining commercial appeal, but I know fucking pub-fu.
I would fight Neil Gaiman in a bar. For nothing, after two pints. Just for being successful. Just for being Neil Gaiman.
Matt Freeman’s work has appeared in Aurealis and been commended by the Katherine Susannah Prichard Foundation and the Fellowship of Australian Writers. He is currently completing an Associate Degree of Professional Writing and Editing at RMIT University and writing a collection of
horror stories.
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