We caught up with Rudy and his partner/creator Lee Wilson, during one of their club hopping marathons, at “The Henhouse” a dive not far from the railroad tracks.  Rudy appeared to have had his feathers ruffled during a cockfight earlier that evening.  He assured us he was all right.  His opponent however was later featured as the Midnight Special at Ling Kows Cantonese Palace.  We settled into a corner booth and after a few drinks finally got to the interview.

FFMI: So how did you guys first get together?

LW: Gosh, that’s quite a long story. I suppose you could say he [Rudy] approached me..

RR: Whoa! What are you trying to do to me here? We’re not together. The only thing this one’s [Lee] squeezing, is a pencil. Our relationship is strictly Plutonium. Damn. Give a rooster a break.

FFMI: Lee, you’ve enjoyed a very distinguished career as a high demand storyboard artist on both sides of the Atlantic.  You’ve boarded a number of films including The Long Kiss Goodnight, The Fifth Element and Deep Blue Sea, and you were a visualizing force on Twisted Metal and Halo 1 & 2.  Don’t you feel working with a rooster is a bit degrading and beneath you?

RR: [To Lee] I’ll field this one if it’s alright with you old chap. [To FFMI] Perhaps you could take your fancy little digital recorder whatsit with its distracting flashing grey light; wrap all of your ten digits around its brushed chrome shell, and shove it up your…

LW: …I think what you’re asking is how our individual working styles can possibly mesh. I have a lot of respect for Rudy; he’s a plucky character with a lot to say. If I can supply the soapbox and have Rudy’s voice be heard, my job is done. Also, roosters tend to have the most to say around dawn; that’s certainly not the case with Rudy. He doesn’t usually rise until noon and utters his first word of the day around 2:30pm. So, there really was no other choice.

FFMI:  Rudy, despite your crudeness, you’ve got a reputation for being quite popular with the ladies.  What’s your secret?

RR: Simple. I live by two strict rules. One – I never use foal language. Two – I don’t make love to anything with more than four legs. And, three – I’ll never go ‘fully plucked’ for a magazine, no matter how much they offer me. You could pay me $200, and I wouldn’t do it. Throw in a couple of those sweet free-range honeys that lay the mucky eggs? Not a chance. Anyway, those are me rules. That was ‘free-range.’ Got it?

FFMI: Any plans for the summer?

RR: I’ll probably travel to a third world country where you’re worshiped for your supply of ball point pens and chewing gum, and hand out TV dinners and socks to the needy.

LW: I’m sorry. That’s not true. [To Rudy] Perhaps we should switch to coke now. Rudy has a bi-weekly commitment with Mrs. Kim’s Blissful Conclusions Massage Parlor downtown. He won’t be leaving the country anytime soon.

FFMI:  I hear you might be coming out with a music video.

RR:  You’d like that wouldn’t you; you bunch of perverts. See Rudy in a red latex body suit, doing some kind of chicken dance. I dance to the beat of my own drumstick, fella.

LW:  The spoken word is more Rudy’s style. I suppose people enjoy watching those poetry slams. I know Rudy can slam; I’m just not sure about the poetry part.

RR:  I can think of something that rhymes with ‘this by grass’! 

FFMI:  Is he always like this after a few drinks? He’s being a real jerk.

RR:  Jerk Chicken. Very funny. We’ll see how funny it is when you wake up with a crowd around you.

LW:  I’m so sorry. This is Rudy’s version of Coq au vin. Although I don’t think the French use Thunderbird. I should get him out of here.

RR: [Belches]

LW:  Perhaps if you can get him some cute hen back up dancers, he may come around.

RR:  I like ‘em husky, free-range and plucked in all the right places.

FFMI: Yeah, we don’t have to take this crap.

RR:  Thanks for reminding me. It’s time to drop some chicks off at the pond. Meet me out front in twenty minutes, Wilson. [To FFMI] As for you lot, it has taken considerable effort to convince and consolidate the tab of the last three bars this evening. So man up and pay the lady. And remember, a tight ass should be a pleasant surprise at a swingers party; not for when the check shows up. I promised her a big tip. Now, unless you want egg cups where your eyes should be, I suggest you scoot around and let a rooster pass.

FFMI:  [To Lee] I wasn’t sure the first time, but your stupid bird definitely just threatened me.

LW:  Please forgive him. He’s all crow and no peck.

FFMI:  [Reacts to a cigar being stubbed out on the back of the hand] Aargh! That’s my hand!

RR:  I could have sworn it was the ashtray. What a stupid bird.

LW:  I really need to get him out of here. We’ll talk soon. [Herds Rudy across the bar and out the door].

FFMI:  Yeah. See ya. [To waitress] Excuse me miss. Would you have something for a cigar burn?

WAITRESS: There’s no smoking in the bar. It’s the law.

FFMI:  I wasn’t.