Anonymous asked: You said you liked Grimm's Fairytales, so which is your favorite?
I enjoy “Hansel and Gretel” the most. I always loved that the children rose to murder in order to protect each other. It really shows how far people are willing to go to save the ones they love.
-RB
taytayisme asked: Hi Mr. Brook this is an honor to be able to talk to you. I love your work both on and off the stage.
It’s always nice when someone is familiar with both. So few people recognize the hard work I put into the worlds I create off stage. There are some fans but very few recognize the real extent I go to.
Anonymous asked: Dear Rich, please will you tell me a story. xx
You asked so nicely, how can I refuse?
Once upon a time there was a magical story teller. He was by far the greatest in the land. People would walk many miles and gather in huge groups to listen to his stories because he had a special way of making those stories come true.
Then one day he told a story so big and so brilliant it gobbled him up! Only crumbs were left behind, and the world forgot about him.
But the story wasn’t over. The storyteller simply wanted a more loyal audience. He had his fun on the big stage and decided he’d enter a recluse phase, of sorts. So he let the world think he was dead and all the while his magic stories crept into the corners of the earth, sinking deeper and deeper into governments until the storyteller was tickled with power.
It was all very amusing.
And then, one day something incredible happened. The storyteller found the long lost otter he had killed off in a previous tale. ”Impossible!” he thought. So he went to investigate. He knew the otter had a best friend, a hedgehog who lived in London, not too far from the storyteller. So the storyteller decided to pay him a visit.
It was the hedgehog’s wedding day and all of his friends were there. Even the otter looked on jealously from the bushes. Until of course the party realized the little groom was a no-show. He was all tied up writing a new story of adventure with the storyteller. One that promised a very explosive ending.
I’d tell you more but I’m afraid that’s all I have at the moment. I’ve acquired a rather difficult pet recently and must tend to him.
-RB
Oh dear, there are so many of you now and yet none are willing to speak to me. Do the rumors intimidate you? The rumors that I am dead. The rumors that I am Moriarty. The rumors that I’m not.
Let me make this abundantly clear: I am always here for those of you who interesting enough to grab my attention. Though you should be warned, I get bored quite easily. And I’m not nearly as kind when I’m bored.
-JM or -RB whichever you believe in
Anonymous asked: moriarty was real! i believe in sherlock holmes!
Sherlock had very little to do with it. If you believe in him then you’re believing my acting.
-RB
fredrickkolyszko asked: two questions: first, how did you survive getting shot in the mouth? second: what are you professor of?
Where on earth did you hear that I got shot in the mouth? That’s a horrid business that I’m sure would appear in the papers. I would certainly like to think I’m important enough to be talked about in papers, especially if I’m important enough to be shot at.
As to your second question I’ve dabbled in many areas. It was a difficult task, getting me through school, because there were so many subjects that I excelled in I could never be bothered to pick one and stick with it. I started off my post graduate school at a medical school but lost interest soon after finishing with my cadaver. So I thought I’d study law but that too proved boring. I ended up returning to uni focused on chemical engineering, which gave me my masters. I suppose this is all a very long explanation for a really simple answer. I am an Art History professor.
It’s all so boring now… I just wanted to have a little fun.
I’ve been told my last response was a bit dark for a children’s show website. I’ve also been told to apologize but I see little point in it. I’ve never been good at taking orders. Besides I think this site, like the world, has fallen to decay. Let’s be honest, you’re not children. You people who come here are the same sort of people who look up the last meals of the inmates on death row. You heard that I was hired to play Moriarty and you fell for the character because there’s a part of you that craves the twisted chaos of a brilliant mind. You’re hands groping in the dark to find traces of glory, and as pathetic as that is it’s not half so pathetic as being king of a dead enterprise left with nothing but memories of the fallen and a sad excuse for a pet that mopes around after pissing on his master’s plans.
So to anyone following with their children expecting stories of wonder: I apologize. I’ve found the world to be more akin to the Grimm fairytales only with less magic.
To Seb: Don’t think so little of me. It’s not all lost.
To everyone else: The professor’s in and open for questions.
-JM
Anonymous asked: Once upon a time, there was a very clever man. This man was the cleverest in all the land, and nobody could even come close to measuring up to his cleverness. One day, there came a thing from another place. This thing was much more clever than the man, because it wasn't a man; it was something far far greater. It saw the clever man, and it saw the others in the land, and it did not see one difference between them. To the thing they were all specks of dust. The question is then, did the man care?
The man might but man is boring.
I want to know about the Thing. What makes it tick? How do you break it down to our level? I want to poke it until it pops and then make sense of the scattered fluids. I want to pick apart its every flaw and pry into its most sensitive cracks. See what sticks. See how long it gets to remain the most clever creature in the room.
Anonymous asked: If you were immortal, and the only thing you could do to stop being bored was becoming an ignorant and very easily amused idiot, would you do it?
Oh you poor little thing. Of course I wouldn’t; I would find a way to end my immortality. ”Only” is a word of poor imagination and little thought.
