Tom Johnson walks confidently into the office of Bill Richardson, CEO of Diatzu Motors. Tom is looking to be hired as a high level executive in the business.
“Hi Tom, I’m Bill Richardson. I’ll be conducting your interview today.” Bill says, extending his hand to Tom.
“Thanks Bill. Can I call you Bill?”
“Uh yes, that is my name.”
“Can I call you Will? Like Willy Will? Like Willy Mo Pena? Billy Bear?”
Tom considers this for a full minute of silence and then says “Call me Bill.”
“You want me to call you Bill?”
“I’m sorry, I forgot the comma. I meant ‘Call me, Bill.’”
“Call you? On the telephone?”
Bill shrugs and picks up the phone at his desk, dialing Mr. Johnson’s cell phone number. Tom’s phone rings and he quickly flips it open, turning his back to Bill and hunching over as if being secretive.
“Yes?” Tom whispers while furtively glancing over his shoulder.
“Yes what? It’s me!” Bill says with a frustrated tone.
“Me who? I have no time to talk, I’m having an interview with King Blah Blah of the Car People.”
“Tom, I don’t have time for these games. Can we start your interview now?”
Tom makes a loud fart noise into the phone and then flips it shut dramatically. He straightens up and turns to Bill as he puts his phone in his pocket.
“Sorry about that, had to take that call. So what, you want me to sell cars to people? Like ‘Buy this car, it drives on wheels.’ ‘You want a red car? Absolutely Mr. Havasham!’ ‘I can definitely give you a car with seats, Mrs. BluBleeBlee!’ ‘Right this way, Mr. bopbopbop, blah bloo blee GPS.’ No sweat. So do I have the job? In all honesty, a monkey could do this job. A retarded monkey.”
“This is extraordinarily silly. I have no time for this. Your interview is over.”
“Is it? Or is it just beginning?” Tom asks with a devilish glint in his eye.
“No, it is over.”
“Can I call you Bill?”
“I told you that is my NAME!”
“Ha! That comma again! I meant…”
Bill leaps from his seat and grabs Tom by the elbow, forcibly taking him to the door of his office and pushing him into the receptionist’s area. The door slams in Tom’s face.
“Well, I think that went well,” Tom says with his face pressed into Mr. Richardson’s office door. Two security guards appear on either side of Tom as he straightens his tie. “Looks like you’ll be working for me soon, gentlemen. Just call me Mr. Manager!”
Tom is escorted to street level by the security guards and left on the sidewalk. Tom looks around and whistles sharply. Just then, LuLu Tom’s retarded monkey pet comes running around the corner and climbs up onto his shoulder.
“LuLu, I think we got the job!” Tom says as he laughs loudly frightening some passers by. In response, LuLu takes a huge crap on his shoulder.