* Welcome to The Big Jewel, your guide to all things zombified. This week Scott Oglesby goes way beyond "The Walking Dead" all the way to the writing dead.

The Winning Candidate’s Job Interview For Lead Character In My New Zombie Apocalypse Novel

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What separates you from the nearly infinite field of characters that I can imagine into existence to star in my new zombie apocalypse novel?

At the risk of sounding cliché, I am your star. Everything about me, from my mullet to my lazy eye, points to me being perfect for this part. I abhor non-violence, inaction and lapses in dialogue. In my troubled past, I often found myself ostracized or even incarcerated due to my intolerant nature and violent outbursts, but now, in this post apocalyptic world, I practically have Zombie Killer tattooed across my neck. If you’d like, I will, literally, have Zombie Killer tattooed across my neck. It’s up to you. I don’t have to have a neck tattoo, but I think it would enhance my general image. My point is that I’m memorable. Also, I’m deep. I have just enough self-doubt and internal conflict to give myself depth and to give your readers someone that they can connect with, at least on a subconscious level. Every woman wants to be with me and every man wants to be me. Every zombie wants to eat me as well but that comes with the territory.

Describe your physical characteristics.

I’m 6’2″, blond haired and blue eyed. Although I don’t have the symmetrically featured face of a heartthrob actor, I’m quite the stud. Chicks dig my quiet confidence and hardly notice my bad eye. I’ve been described as dangerously stupid but I more than make up for that with my snarky one-liners. Five years in state prison did wonders for my physique. I trained as a kickboxer in Thailand from birth until age 15 when I was kicked out of the country for being too dangerous. I may or may not have a tattoo on my neck. I’m thinking yes, personally. I’m also willing to cut my blond locks or even shave my head if you need me to undergo a psychological transformation with a physical manifestation.

Describe your psychology.

I don’t think too much about that. You need your star to be a man of action, not some introverted, self-reflective pansy. I have that nagging doubt and internal conflict that I mentioned earlier. I’m full of contradictions. That’s why people will love to hate me and hate to love me. I accidentally killed my mother during childbirth by kicking her uterus with my steel-toed baby boot. That incident left me emotionally scarred, spiritually wounded and that much more of a hard case. Killing zombies in new and exceptionally creative ways is the only thing that keeps me going. That and my search for the cure. Is there a cure in this novel? I also keep Albino Burmese Pythons. Sometimes I feed them “small zombies.” We don’t like to call them children in this genre, for obvious reasons.

What are some of your long-term goals?

My most important long-term goal is to land a major role as lead character in a zombie apocalypse novel. This has been a dream of mine since I poofed into existence this morning, complete with a malleable past. Perhaps, while I was in the Special Forces I developed a pathological need to deal in death? In that case, finding a job that allowed me to kill will have been a long-term goal. I know that I plan to kill as many of the repulsive flesh eaters as possible before I save the world and consummate my relationship with Female Lead Character. If I can throw off some witty dialogue and develop as a fictional entity along the way, well that’s all gravy.

What are your strengths?

Number one would be my adaptability on paper. One paragraph I can be a heroic warrior destroying everything in my path and the next I can be woefully lamenting the loss of my Albino Burmese Python (after it stupidly ingested a chainsaw, which got turned on later, when it tried to cuddle) with expressive sobs. I could get its name tattooed on my forearm in Chinese script — that’ll enhance my image as well. There’s also my willingness to suffer catastrophic injury if it’ll secure the role. You need me to lose an arm? Done. Do you need my face to be mangled in a bizarre wood chipper accident? Fine. I’m even willing to lose my eye provided you take the lazy one.

What are your biggest weaknesses?

I’m loyal to a fault. I’ve even offered to have my neck tattooed for you. I can be arrogant and hot headed. You see the way I throw a fit in chapter 5 when Supporting Character #3 leaves half of our ammo back at the camp and we have 2 dozen biters hot on our trail. Also, as you prove in chapter 9, I have intimacy issues with Female Lead Character. And there’s the criminal record. I’m willing to have other problems as well. Maybe a history of substance abuse? (It would explain the incarceration. And the neck tattoo.) Maybe I’ll suffer a relapse after the ridiculously violent death of my beloved snake? Or you could just give me a snake related hernia? It’s all up to you.

Where do you see yourself in five years?

If it were up to me? Okay, I’m sitting on a porch by a lake somewhere deep in the woods. Female Lead Character is sitting next to me. She’s pregnant again. Our little boy puts down his rifle and walks over, pets my Albino Burmese Python and asks about my neck tattoo.

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* Welcome to The Big Jewel, where we are proud to admit that Mad Men is one of our favorite TV shows and Ozzy Osborne is one of our favorite...er...whatever he is. But it took the talents of first-time contributor Scott Oglesby to bring them together.

Ozzy Osborne’s Diary Of A Mad Man

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Sunday May 2
It’s a new week and 1967 is shaping up to be a brilliant year. I’m hoping this will be a huge week for me at the firm. It’s time to show these blokes that I’m hungry, that I’m willing to go further than anybody else in the advertising community.

I took the new girl, Sharon, out last night. I suspect her family has a bit of scratch; the bird seems a little spoiled. She’s bloody gorgeous but is still a little cool towards me so far. I do fancy her quite a bit though. The thrill of the hunt!

Monday May 3
We’re still struggling with the Hamleys’ account. The team, led by Iommi, is leaning towards “The finest toys in the world” slogan with just as pedestrian of a campaign. I absolutely hate it, doesn’t feel right. Toys are exciting and dangerous and we need to incorporate that edge into our advertising. I prefer “Hamleys’ Hystericals” or “Hamleys’ toys: the anti red wagon” or even “The age of Apollyon is upon us, indulge yourself with some toys.” I fear a boardroom showdown if we can’t come to some kind of a consensus.

I’m sick of the way that Iommi, Ward and Butler stick together. They think they’re so “with it” just because they have that silly little band. It’s a bloody herd mentality. I need to get them to accept my individuality.

Tuesday May 4
Ran into a school mate at lunch today. Good old David Wallace. He’s now a partner with Saatchi and Saatchi and was practically begging me to interview for creative director over there. Seems they lost the last one to a bad bit of tail. Bloody gonorrhea! Wound up going nutters. I’m sure that they wouldn’t mind my accounts coming along for the ride, if I jumped ship.

I know one thing; if Iommi keeps being such a nob to me in front of the office, I’ll make that call. It’s nice to have options. Oh Lord of Darkness I hate him sometimes.

I finished my second book of poetry, War Pigs: A Study of Human Nature today. Not like anybody will read it, but it was a rewarding project.

Wednesday May 5
I finished reading Do What Thou Wilt during the tube ride this morning. Aleister Crowley was an interesting bloke. Curious to learn more about him. I started playing around with a poem about his life. I have to admit that since I moved to London, I’m beginning to see the dark side of human nature. It seems to me that we’re all just one bad LSD trip away from utter chaos and savagery.

On the plus side I landed the Tesco account! This should help speed up my request for an increased expense account. Being able to wine and dine potential clients at the London Savoy should help my sales figures considerably.

Thursday May 6
I took Sharon to the pub last night to watch my colleagues make fools of themselves on jam night. I hate to admit it but they weren’t half bad. Sharon seemed to dig the bad boy musician act they put on. Her eyes went all gaga. I have to find a way to get her to look at me like that. (Maybe if I bought her a fancy little dog?) We had a bit of a smoke, and while it seemed to loosen Sharon up, it just made me paranoid. I’ll stick to the booze from now on — that doesn’t seem to do me any harm.

I spent this afternoon roaming Hamleys and allowing my mind to absorb the vibe. Bought a few gag gifts for laughs. On the tube ride back I saw a tramp stab a drunk with a broken tennis racket. Gave me an idea for a poem: “Crazy Train.” Something metaphorical about going off the rails of life.

Big pitch meeting tomorrow with the Hamleys’ people. The bad news is that they’re sending Brighton and Engle, a notoriously tough duo. The worse news is that we still can’t find any common ground on this thing. Might be a rough one.

Friday May 7
I killed it today! Absolutely killed it! Picture the scene; Iommi, and his pet sycophant, Ward, are trying to sell their boring, vanilla slogan to Brighton, who is not buying, when, out of nowhere, I chew a Hamleys’ blood capsule, pull a plastic but realistic looking vampire bat out of my suit pocket and proceed to bite off its head then spit the head and a healthy pool of blood onto the polished, mahogany boardroom table. I even began gagging to really sell it. Blew their doors off. The Hamleys’ boys, Iommi, Ward, our art people, the stenographer, everyone, was simply aghast. You could’ve heard a pin drop. As they were struggling to regain their composure, I adeptly sprang into a quick spiel about how “THIS was MY Hamleys.” Three seconds later and Brighton and Engle were laughing maniacally over it. They kindly but firmly shot Iommi down and asked what Ozzy had in mind. I easily sold them on Hamleys’ Hystericals.

There is a new star exploding into supernova status in the advertising stratosphere and its name is Osborne!

Saturday May 8
Iommi invited Sharon and me out for a drink last night and we all got along famously. It was quite an eventful night. I ended up drunkenly reading/singing my poetry and they were both impressed with the content and floored (Sharon’s word!) by my voice as well. Who knew I could sing? He actually wants me to go with him to Birmingham to play a paid gig next weekend.

Sharon was appropriately turned on and spent the night.

Now I’m a mad man, a poet, a musician and a lover. I am iron man!

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