AJ: Really?
BH: I think so. I also think you’re still trying to establish rapport. That you’re working up to something. If you have a “hard question,” go ahead and ask it. I have places to be.
AJ: All right. I heard your brother died in the tunnels and that you two were very close. These same sources told me it wasn’t something you talked about on many occasions but that it came up at the Council of Pieces.
BH: Council of Pieces? I’ve never heard that term. It’s delightful.
AJ: I have a source telling me you invoked your brother before firing the cannon.
BH: I see. So you want me to admit to firing the cannon?
AJ: No, Mr. Hockney, everyone I’ve interviewed agreed that you did that. I’m more interested in your motivations.
BH: And revenge for my dead brother seems like a nice, tidy storyline to you, does it?
AJ: It’s something people could understand. That’s all we’re trying to do, understand.
BH: And selling books is a nice by-product.
[Silence]
BH: Not to be baited, then, are you? All right, yes, my brother died in the tunnels. Yes I was very bitter about it and remain so to this day. If the protocols in the park were the least bit thought through, my brother would be alive. But if he hadn’t died, would I have led the Pirates? I would like to think that yes, I would have. I’m a natural leader, and I had the best ideas. I have no idea whether I invoked my brother’s name at the … what was it … Council of Pieces? Damned if that doesn’t have a ring to it.
If you want to know how my brother’s death informed the situation, it led me to believe the situation was extraordinary. It made me believe, rightfully, that all law had been dissolved.
AJ: Says the man in jail.
BH: Says the man in jail with no possibility of parole. Interrupt me again and I’ll jump across this table and have at your fucking windpipe. I bet I can get it out of there before the guards stop me.
JOHN DAHLSTROM: Brock …
AJ: I apologize for interrupting, but I want to dwell on this idea of extraordinary circumstances. What led you to believe that rules didn’t apply, to put it indelicately?
BH: Management. Pure and simple.
AJ: Management?
BH: If management couldn’t provide people with the most basic of needs, or, indeed, if they kill someone who is questioning their leadership choices, all bets are off, are they not?
AJ: You’re referring to Sam Garliek and that Flynn girl?
BH: Among others. It was common knowledge that he killed her in the dark. You said that I was the “poster child” for what happened in the park. You’re wrong. Sam Garliek killing that girl was where control was officially lost. After that, what else was there to do but protect oneself? There were also other rumors and innuendo. He was the lead manager before the hurricane, but he certainly wasn’t alone.
AJ: What else did you hear, sir?
BH: Murder, intimidation, bullying, rape, sodomy, torture, you name it.
AJ: Really?
BH: I heard one story about a girl in the shelters going to Mr. Garliek’s little Command Center because she was having a nervous breakdown. The stress of the situation was more than her helicopter parents ever prepared her for. She was hyperventilating or some such thing, and when she went to management to beg for help, she was pulled into a dark room and gang raped by three of Mr. Garliek’s underlings. Because they could. Now tell me, Mr. Jakes, do you believe this story?
AJ: If you’re asking, sir, it sounds like the sort of thing my reporting would have uncovered by now.
BH: Maybe you’re not a very good reporter. I know Sam Garliek is a liar.
AJ: Regardless, since we’re in the thick of it, Mr. Hockney, can I ask about the incident with the injured man and the stanchion?
BH: Ask.
AJ: Everyone I’ve interviewed has described seeing or hearing about the moment where an employee fell from a rooftop and was very badly hurt. You then killed the man with a stanchion. It was described as a mercy killing. It is one of the core, solid events everyone has described or had described to them. Did it happen?
BH: Possibly.
AJ: Possibly?
BH: It sounds like something I would have done.
AJ: Come on, Mr. Hockney.
BH: Watch your tone, please.
AJ: You’re right. I’m sorry. But can you see how that answer is difficult to accept?
BH: You have proven yourself capable of manners, but that doesn’t mean I give even a fraction of a shit about your emotional state.
AJ: Then let me toss another one at you, please. I spoke with a woman named Jill Van Meveren who was a Deadpool …
BH: Really? Some of them made it out? Hmm.
AJ: Yes, they did. She said you and several other Pirates cut off the hands of another employee and afterward left a stanchion as a word of warning. Like it was the calling card of the Pirates.
BH: That’s what they thought?
AH: Yes
BH: They’re very perceptive.
[Silence]
JOHN DAHLSTROM: Brock, it’s OK to talk about this one.
BH: What if I’m not in the mood?
JD: Brock, please …
BH: On the advice of my attorney, here’s what I recall. When I came out of the emergency shelters I was, understandably, upset. I was upset at the leadership of the park. I was upset at the death of my brother by easily preventable means. I was upset at my circumstances. When I saw the poor gentleman on the ground, clearly suffering and clearly wounded beyond the skills of our most gifted medical practitioners, I took a heavy metal stanchion and hit his head with it until I saw what I thought to be brain matter. Then I stopped. There was an audience, and that audience should feel ashamed of themselves for not taking action when it was crystal clear there was action to be taken.
AJ: You’re saying someone else should have killed him?
BH: Mr. Jakes, what other option was there? The man was suffering. But they were afraid, weren’t they?
AJ: What do you think they were afraid of?
BH: If I had to guess, I would say they were scared of “getting into trouble.” You’d be surprised how long it took some to realize no one was going to swoop in and impose order. I remember explaining that to one gentleman in particular who argued that someone might record it and put it online. The look on his face when he realized no one was watching was a sight to behold. Freeing these men and women of their fear was just as much an act of mercy as putting that poor dying man out of his misery.
AJ: I don’t think anyone disputes the killing as an act of mercy. But why the public forum? Why the overt violence? Was this man’s death something you wanted the other employees to see?
BH: Like, to intimidate them?
AJ: I suppose.
BH: If that was the effect, it was unintended. I was, quite frankly, in a fog. Not to dwell on it, but my brother had just died because no one could keep the lights on and no one knew to keep an inhaler handy. Action, especially action that was so clear-cut, felt like the right thing at the time. Sincerely, Mr. Jakes, I have no more for you on the topic than that.
AJ: There is one more question on the killing, if you’ll permit me. I’ve looked extensively into what public records I could find of your past. There is no history of violence. You were in two fights, both in middle school, and both were low-level affairs.
BH: Yes.
AJ: What I’m wondering, Mr. Hockney, is how you go from no violence to killing in such a short period of time?
BH: That’s a good question. John, don’t you think that’s a good question? Mr. Jakes, it goes back to circumstances. You asked me how my brother’s death affected me. To repeat myself, it told me the circumstances were extraordinary. We were in a situation that was going to push us, to test us, to challenge us in ways we had believed we would never be tested. We were at war, sir. War against management who had shown themselves ready to kill and war for survival. T
here is only so much food and water.
AJ: There was more than enough food and water to go around.
BH: Only so much goodwill, then. Do you think my little incident with the stanchion led others to fear for their lives?
AJ: I know that to be the case.
BH: Well, I cannot be held accountable for how people interpret events. Fair enough?
AJ: Yes, thank you. I’d like to move on to the formation of the Pirates, if I may. One of the employees I interviewed said she witnessed you kill the man with the stanchion, and that motivated her and her friends to organize.
BH: Why didn’t she stop me?
AJ: Pardon?
BH: I’m making an assumption here, but I would imagine this woman described the incident in brutal terms and said something like, “Someone should have stopped him,” right? My question is, if she was so afraid and so traumatized by my act of mercy, why didn’t she stop me? Either before or after, it doesn’t matter.
AJ: I can’t speak for her, Mr. Hockney, but most people would likely not stop someone who had just bludgeoned a man to death.
BH: Maybe that should change. Maybe a bit more accountability is in order.
AJ: But you can see how this might have escalated people’s fears about being in the park.
BH: Again, Mr. Jakes, I am not responsible for how events are interpreted.
AJ: All right. You worked in the Pirate Cove. Was it natural for you to gravitate back there after leaving the emergency shelter?
BH: Very much so. There didn’t seem to be much else to do, to be honest. Plus you feel more comfortable in familiar environments.
AJ: And others that you worked with, they were there as well?
BH: More than just them. After the incident with the stanchion, my recollection is that I had ten to fifteen people following me to the Cove. And we started talking.
AJ: About what?
BH: A variety of things. We introduced ourselves, obviously. Some were Pirate Cove workers and some were not, so there were tours. We talked about our time in the emergency shelter and about management’s shortcomings. Some of our new friends went and brought others they thought would like the environment. Before you knew it, we had a merry little band.
AJ: Were they initially looking to you for leadership?
BH: That’s a curious question, Mr. Jakes. Why must there be leadership, especially since the leadership in place already failed us?
AJ: But you were unquestionably their leader.
BH: I never presented myself as such. I had ideas that others seemed to enjoy. At some point, it became obvious that a loose set of rules were going to have to be established, and the group looked to me to do that. The rules … I want to talk for a moment about our rules. It was vital that the rules be simple, clear, and most importantly absolute. Clear boundaries, clear penalties. Now, this might seem a little, what’s the word, hokey to anyone who wasn’t in our situation, but what we needed was a code of honor. That’s what I worked on, a code of honor. If I might brag for a moment, we had full buy-in. To a piece, all the men and women from my area decided this code made sense to follow.
AJ: Right, the code. Let’s see what I can remember … A Pirate is a brother, and a brother is worth spilling blood for, a Pirate does what he knows is right, a Pirate fights for the cause, and … what was the one about stealing?
BH: You’re missing a few, but you have the gist. A Pirate gets what he wants, but not from another Pirate. That was the most obtuse of the rules, but we made sure it was understood. You don’t steal from other Pirates, period. We had a court set up where people brought their grievances. Once word got around that we had zero tolerance for stealing, it sank in pretty fast.
AJ: Is that how that Deadpool ended up losing his hands early on?
BH: I’ve been instructed not to talk about that one.
AJ: I see. And is the code how the Deadpools ended up being attacked almost constantly? Or how bodies ended up hanging from lampposts in the Pirate Cove?
BH: Those are two separate questions and it sounds as if you’re a bit indignant there, Adam.
AJ: I’m not going for an indignant tone, but I have to ask about the more fantastical things that I’ve heard.
BH: All right. Lay them on the table.
AJ: I heard the Pirates beat intruders to death. I heard the Pirates would take people, that they took everything and everyone from the Fairy Prairie for their own ends. I heard a story about fights to the death for the entertainment of the Pirates. I heard a good-natured duo initially tried to flee the park and may have been murdered after they returned in desperate need of help. I heard phrases like, “The Pirates got them.”
BH: Well, surely, Mr. Jakes, there would have been evidence of such barbarism when the National Guard showed up.
AJ: I respect your point, sir, but while you may have a body-cam video of the end of this thing, I have interview after interview after interview of people telling me all manner of gruesomeness attributed to you and the Pirates. Murder after murder, with the bodies often put on display in some way.
BH: And do you believe them?
AJ: Honestly? Yes. I believe things got out of hand and the Pirates did whatever they wanted to whoever they wanted.
BH: [Laughing] Oh, the things you don’t know.
JOHN DAHLSTROM: Brock, stop now.
BH: If you had been there, Mr. Jakes. If you had only seen.
JD: Brock, as your attorney, please stop talking. Mr. Jakes …
BH: Ever been curious about what human flesh tastes like?
JD: BROCK!
[At this point, we still had ten minutes left of interview time scheduled. I was asked to leave the room until they could confer. I was asked back with five minutes left.]
JOHN DAHLSTROM: We have time for two more questions, Mr. Jakes.
AJ: All right. You have admitted to firing the cannon at the Council of Pieces …
BH: Still a great name.
AJ: If intimidation wasn’t your goal as previously stated, what was your goal?
BH: To kill people.
[Silence]
AJ: Anything else?
BH: No. I wanted casualties. Got them, too.
AJ: Why?
BH: Are you sure that’s what you want your last question to be? I’m being generous with you, Mr. Jakes, because “anything else?” is technically a question. But what the hell, I’m in a good mood. I wanted to test a theory I’ve had since childhood. It goes like this: If people are stupid and weak enough, you can point a cannon at their face, and they will refuse to believe it’s there. I now have substantial evidence on the matter.
AJ: All right, Mr. Hockney. Last question. In the media, you have been portrayed as a monster. Jury members in your trial took twenty-two minutes to convict you. Obviously you are the single person who has borne the most blame, legally and in the court of public opinion, for what happened inside FantasticLand. Do you feel that’s fair?
BH: It doesn’t matter if it’s fair or not, does it?
AJ: Does it?
BH: You wouldn’t have lasted long, sir. I see you as a Deadpool. That sound about right? Clinging with your friends as we pick you off one by one, pretending you’re up to the challenge but knowing in your heart that we would be there soon and we were going to take what we wanted and there’s nothing you could do to stop us? You asked me if it’s fair that I’m portrayed as a monster. I go back to something I asked you fifteen minutes ago. Who stopped me? I’m not overly tall, nor am I overly strong. Two men could take me, yet no two men stood up. Would you have stood up to me, Adam? Or would you have stood by as I walked by with a bloody stanchion? I know where my money’s at.
I’ll leave you with this since I’m about to give my attorney a well-earned coronary. Sometimes you have to fight, sir. There are times in life where unpleasant things are happening, and if you don’t fight you might as well be meat. Those who kill can smell those who are ripe for slaughter, and if you don’t stand up, if you don’t
punch and kick and rip and tear, what good are you? You wouldn’t have lasted long, Mr. Jakes. If you don’t know what I just told you, if you don’t feel it in your bones, then that’s all you are. Bones. If you’ll excuse me.
Brock Hockney has not given another interview. His lawyer says he is unavailable.
INTERVIEW 23: RITCHIE FRESNO
Owner of FantasticLand.
Let’s get this out of the way now. I’m not my father.
You don’t want to know how many times over the years I’ve been exposed to the “Legend of Johnny Fresno.” Teachers, principals, roommates, potential employers, fuckin’ romantic partners, man. All of ’em. They come at you with this “your dad was America’s Dreamer” sort of bullshit and then they look at you like, “What you got?” Turns out what I got was a shark-like business sense and a pack-and-a-half-a-day American Spirit habit. That’s what I got.
You want an example? Sure, man. I tell this story all the time, but it bears repeating. I’m at this party in college; there’s drinking, there’s weed, there’s loud music, and I’m approached by this hot little chica, gorgeous big brown eyes and this sweet rack, and she is instantly overly friendly toward me. Like, I’m not even trying, man, and she’s like, “Let’s go upstairs,” and I’m like, “Hells to the yeah let’s go upstairs.” So we’re making out and clothes are coming off, and by the time I get her pants off I realize she’s wearing FantasticLand panties. They were bright yellow with the Exclamation Point on them, and when she sees that I see her panties, she throws me on the bed, gets on top of me, and yells, “Fuck me, Johnny Fresno!” It totally creeped me out, and I got out of there. She was, like, a groupie for my dad. That’s kind of a great metaphor for my life. The lineage gets me into the party, but then, brother, things tend to go sideways.
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