Yesterday I went for a job interview. It was a shitty call centre one. I was sitting in the reception all prepared to lie about my experience and intentions when I was called into a room with non other than The Death Owl and Mr Ponti. Except Mr Ponti wasn't really called Mr. Ponti, he was called Boris something or other.
They had big smug bastard grins written all over their faces when I sat down in front of them.
"So, if it isn't crack headed Tuesday Kid?" The Death Owl smirked. "Want a job do you?"
"That's right," I said trying to brush off the fact that I was sitting in front of two complete wankers that I'd hoped I'd never see again.
"We don't employ crack heads. Our business is serious. However..." the Death Owl said.
I sat waiting for him to finish.
"How is your dog?" said Mr Ponti.
"That's none of your busines," I replied.
"That's not very friendly," said the Death Owl. "Especially since you're wanting us to give you a job."
"Are you going to give me one?" I asked.
"I'll give you something else," said the Death Owl bringing out his majik wand.
He was about to zap me before I took off my shoe and threw it at him, snapping the wand into shite.
Mr. Ponti dived over the desk at me but I uppercutted him, knocking him clean out cold.
The Death Owl started dancing around the room.
"You're so dead," he said, "I'm a yellow belt in Karate now."
He pulled off some fancy Chuck Norris roundhouse but it missed me by miles. I pinned him up against the wall.
"I'll scream for help," he said.
"Do it," I shrugged. "They won't get here before I twist your balls."
He fainted right away. I spat a big drooly spittle all over his face.
Then I stole money from both their wallets. A result of sorts. Though not the one I was hoping for.
