Excited to meet your idol, you gather together the ingredients for a packed lunch, check the directions to his home, the Ecuadorian Embassy, and head into London.
This is going to be a great day!
"Why are there so many of you?" you ask a policeman.
"What?" replies the policeman, apparently disturbed by your question. "What do you mean?"
"Why are there so many police here at the Ecuadorian Embassy? Why do you need so many of you on the off-chance of arresting one man?"
The policeman is visibly relieved: "Oh, thank god. When you asked why there were so many of me, I worried for a minute that somebody might've cloned me!"
"That isn't what I meant," you reply.
"I understand," says the policeman. "I feel a bit foolish now."
"Welcome!" says the doorman. "I'm Gary, the doorman here at the Ecuadorian Embassy. Anything you need - so long as it relates to doors - Gary's your man (I'm Gary, remember). I guess you could say I'm the Ecuadorman! ROFL."
"Ok," you say.
"Opening doors, closing doors," continues the doorman, Gary. "I brush doors up and I brush 'em down. I cook doors in an oven. I paint doors. I can imagine a new door for you. I'll even do rood stuff (rood is door backwards!). I will do all these things for you... once! Twice! As many times as you like. Three times. Four."
The doorman, Gary, suddenly counts the fingers on his left hand: "One two three four five! That's how many fingers I have on this hand. Times two hands equals ten fingers total!"
"I see," you say.
"Enjoy your time here at the Ecuadorian Embassy!" says the doorman, Gary. "Mr Assange is a good friend of me. I've never bitten him, not even once. That's real good news."
"Hi - I'm Julian", sneers Julian Assange, with a needlessly patronising lilt. "But you can call me Jools."
"Okay," you reply. "I will."
"Thanks for coming to visit me here at the Ecuadorian Embassy! We're going to have a great day together. It'll be fun. Lot's of fun. Before we begin - can I just ask; are you male or female?"
Though taken aback by his question, you give Assange the information he asked for. He makes a note of it on his phone.
"Good," he says. "Very good."
"Er... freedom?" you venture.
"Wro-o-ong!" bellows Assange, stamping his foot three times, and spinning around. "The most important thing in the world is the state of not being imprisoned or enslaved."
"Isn't that the same thing as - " you go to ask, before Assange silences you with a sharp hiss, and a flick of his fingers.
"Julian is speaking!" says Julian Assange. "You must allow Julian to speak."
"Ok," you say, freely.
"Stop interrupting!" snaps Assange. "But the second I step outside I shall be arrested, and sent to Sweden."
You notice that he pronounces it "Zveden".
"This isn't as much fun as I'd hoped," you mutter.
"Have you been to Zveden?" asks Assange, before continuing without waiting for your reply. "It's quite cold there, and everyone is so blonde that the sun reflects off their heads and makes it difficult to see. It is a golden place. They all walk around eating raw fish. They just hold a fish in their hands - both hands - and take bites out of it during the day."
"I'm not sure that's true," you say.
"I am the one true founder of Wikileaks," counters Assange, "And only I shall be the judge of what is true and what isn't true. Everything you know is a lie."
"Like what?" you ask.
"I'm sure it is," you reply.
"Well, maybe it is blue, but I've been stuck here in the Ecuadorian Embassy so long I can't even remember."
"Couldn't you look out a window?"
"I suppose," sighs Assange. "I've never really thought about it."
"Hello, Jools Assange speaking," says Assange, speaking. "Ah! Edward!"
Assange winks at you, and covers the mouthpiece.
"It's Edward Snowden, the CIA whistleblower," he whispers, before turning back to the phone.
"What can I do for you, Edward...? You just fancied a chat? Well, I'm with someone right now... Yes, that's right. The Heat Magazine competition... No, I can't get you a free subscription... Yes, yes - I did ask if it was a man or a woman... Yes, I'll let you know. Goodbye, and take care."
And with that, Assange hangs up, abruptly.
"Now," he says, turning to you, "Why don't we go have some fun?"
"This is the flag of Ecuador," he explains, but forgets to stop pointing for upwards of 12 minutes. Eventually, he comes to his senses.
"Come on. There's somebody you totally need to meet."
Balloon Head speaks, but to you it just sounds like somebody letting air out of a balloon. Assange, however, seems to understand.
"Thank you, your grace," he says, bowing five times, while walking in a circle. "And, yes, I did ask if it was male or female."
"I want to show you some of my art," says Julian Assange. "I have so much time on my hands, here at the Ecuadorian Embassy, that I've become quite the artist. I think there is so much truth in art."
He rummages around in a cupboard, before finding what he was looking for.
"Here you go," he says. "This is a self-portrait I did."
"Oh," you reply, as he hands you a page torn from a child's colouring book.
"Considering what?" you ask.
But Assange says nothing. He just taps the side of his nose, walks backwards, and hides behind a curtain. You wait several minutes to see if he'll emerge.
Eventually: "You need to leave," whispers Assange. "I'm having a poo."
"It was ok," you reply.
"I knew it would be," chuckles the doorman, Gary. "Hey - have you ever played Bejeweled Blitz?"
"No," you say.
"I have," says the doorman, Gary. "I've got it on my phone."
He shuffles backwards and forth, apparently unsure what else to say. "Well, goodbye," he says, eventually.
"Goodbye," you say in response.
You assume he's waving you goodbye, and lift your hand to return the wave. But then you realise he was waving sarcastically at the policemen who are gathered outside.
His wave becomes a middle-finger salute, which he gestures angrily towards you.