The man was sitting in the dining hall eating his lunch. Lunch was a tuna sandwich, an apple, and a carton of milk. He looked up and saw Brian standing there, holding his tray.

‘Mind if I join you, muchacho?’ - Brian asked.

Brian didn’t wait for a reply, he simply pulled a chair out and sat down. He opened the carton of milk and drank from it. Brian stared at the man the whole time. He took the carton of milk away from his mouth and his black bushy beard was filled with milk.

‘So I’ve been hearing some stories, man’ - said Brian, leaning back in his chair.

The man stared at Brian.

‘I been hearing some strange old tales, my man.’

‘What have you heard?’

Brian chuckled - ‘I thought me and you were friends, man. I thought we were compadres, amigo.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

Brian smiled at him - ‘Of course you fucking don’t, man. So fucking innocent and so fucking popular, man!’

‘What is this about, Brian?’

‘Let me tell you a little story, man. Let me tell you a few things that you don’t know. Every few months, a group of Ambrose’s students come up here and they study me. They ask me questions and they study me, man. I am a fucking celebrity man. These students come up here and study me and ask me questions, and then they head back to their universities and colleges and they write about me. They write fucking dissertations about me and theses about me. I’ve been here for ten fucking years man - and I must have graduated fucking hundreds of these fucking psychiatrists, man. I tell them about the fucking aliens and the fucking flying saucers, and the fucking anal probes, man. They can never get enough of the fucking anal probes. And they hook me up to fucking machines and ask me questions about my fucking childhood, and then they go away and write about me. And now I hear about you…’

He stared at Brian - ‘What about me?’

Brian chuckled to himself - ‘Don’t take me for an idiot, man. I can see what you’re doing.’

‘What am I doing?’

Brian leaned forward - ‘I’m a serial killer and I’m being hunted by an alien who wants to put me in a museum as a fucking serial killer exhibit. Does this ring a fucking bell, man?’

‘It’s not true - I made that up. Dr. Ambrose told me it’s a fantasy.’

Brian leaned back and smiled at him, chuckling to himself - ‘It’s good, man. It is a great fucking backstory. It’s unique and it’s fresh and it's got drama and it’s sexy - and I fucking like it! And that’s the problem, amigo. You think these fucking students coming up here are going to be interested in a played out alien abduction narrative - even with the anal probes - compared to the “I’m a serial killer being hunted down by a fucking alien” narrative, man?’

‘I don’t understand….what do you want me to do?’

‘Well - the damage is done now my friend. Everyone is talking about how fucking cool your backstory is - and my own alien fucking adventure is yesterday’s fucking news. It’s only a matter of time - given the quality of your backstory - before you get asked to join a study. And when these fucking students get a whiff of you, they’ll be all over you like fat kids are with fucking chocolate.’

‘But...I don’t want to join a study!’

Brian stared at him, picked up his apple and took a bite - ‘Are you fucking crazy, man?’

The man stared at Brian.

‘If you join a study and get referenced in a research piece, then when you get out of here you can join the circuit and make it fucking rain, man!’

‘The circuit?’

‘Yes, man - the fucking circuit. Speaking on the alien abduction circuit and fucking alien documentaries. YouTube channels are desperate for new material - the world is your fucking oyster, man - once you join a fucking study. But you need to be referenced in an academic study to really be considered legit!’

‘And you’re going to do this?’

‘I have a few irons in the fire…’ - said Brian, leaning back and taking another bite of the apple.

They sat in silence for a moment - Brian studied him.

‘Man, I wish I had a quality backstory like yours though - it’s such a sweet, sweet backstory. The alien abduction segment is so saturated - so much competition. But….you play the cards you’re dealt.’

Brian finished his apple, and they sat in silence.

‘Just do me a favor, man. Don’t try and muscle in on my action with the fucking students. One day - if you play your cards right and I decide to move aside and go into retirement, then it can be all yours. But for now, in here - I’m the king of the jungle, comprende?’

He nodded.

Brian stood up and took his tray, swaggering off across the dining hall. He continued eating his tuna sandwich.