CaptainWacky
I want to smell dark matter
Charles Venfield was drunk. He older brother had advised it. You'll get through the job interview easy if you're drunk, he had said. You'll seem more natural! Charles laughed at the memory. Some of the other applicants looked at him. He waved to them. He looked over at the pretty secretary sitting behind her desk and tried to catch her eye. She wasn't looking up. He stamped his feet down hard on the floor, startling her. He smiled at her this time. She looked confused.
The door opened and the applicant who had been in came out. Charles should be next, he reckoned.
"Did you do well, sweet-tits?" he asked.
"Umm...maybe," said the confused young woman.
"Good, good!" said Charles, slapping her on the back.
"Ouch!" she said.
"Charles Venfield? The boss will see you now," said the secretary.
"He hit me!" said the previous applicant, as Charles whistled cheerily and entered the office.
"Hello, Mister Venfield, is it?" asked the boss, extending a hand.
"Yes, sir Alan!" said Charles. "Hahaha, just a bit of humour, mate! You know, the Apprentice, aye? TV show and all that, you know man! Haha!" He shook the boss's hand.
"Err...yes," said the boss. Charles sat down.
"Shite chair!" he said. "Hurts my back! I'd want a more comfy one if I get they job, you know what I mean?"
"Yes...this won't be the actual chair you'd be sitting on," said the boss, looking concerned.
"Cool, man, cool!" said Charles. "Here man, that secretary you've got...she's mighty fine you know what I mean, sir!"
"She's my daughter," said the boss.
"You're wife must be a fucking stunner then, man!" said Charles.
"What do you think you'd bring to the job," said the boss, trying to ignore this.
"What would I bring? Probably some hash for all my co-workers to smoke at break time, man! My brother's a dealer so I can get loads and I don't mind sharing! Good stuff too, man, get you well mashed!"
"Err...I don't think you're quite right for this position," said the boss.
"Aye, that's cause the chair's cutting into my back!" said Charles, standing up. "How about if I stand, is that an okay position for you, sir Alan?"
"No, I mean, the job," said the boss. "You're just not right for it, I'm sorry. You may leave."
"You didnae even give me a proper interview, man!" said Charles. And he picked up the uncomfortable chair.
"What are you doing!?" asked the boss, desperation in his voice, pressing his intercom. "Samantha, please call the police!"
"Oh it's like that is it, call the police just because I'm a wee bit rough around the ages and all that!" said Charles. "Well fucking eat chair ya stuff-shirt!" And he swung the chair. The boss ducked down behind his desk. But Charles didn't let go.
"Get out, GET OUT!" shouted the boss from under the desk.
"There's no need to be like this, man!" said Charles. "I wasn't even going to throw it, I was just giving you a wee scare like!"
"GET OUT!"
"You big pussy!" said Charles, throwing the chair backwards in anger. He heard a scream. A girl's scream. He turned around slowly. The boss stood up from behind the desk.
"Samantha!? NO!" said the boss. His daughter was standing in the doorway, holding her face, crying in pain. The chair had hit her right in the nose.
"Aww, shit," said Charles. He looked out into the waiting room, where the other applicants were now standing up, looking in in shock. There was no way he could get by all of them. "Look man, this office is on ground level, isn't it?" he asked the boss.
"I'LL KILL YOU!"
"Aye, never mind!" said Charles, running to the window and jumping through it. Luckily, the window swung open as he hit it. Unluckily, he was actually on the third floor.
"That's the last time I listen to you!" said Charles, handcuffed to his hospital bed with the police watching, to his apologetic brother.
The door opened and the applicant who had been in came out. Charles should be next, he reckoned.
"Did you do well, sweet-tits?" he asked.
"Umm...maybe," said the confused young woman.
"Good, good!" said Charles, slapping her on the back.
"Ouch!" she said.
"Charles Venfield? The boss will see you now," said the secretary.
"He hit me!" said the previous applicant, as Charles whistled cheerily and entered the office.
"Hello, Mister Venfield, is it?" asked the boss, extending a hand.
"Yes, sir Alan!" said Charles. "Hahaha, just a bit of humour, mate! You know, the Apprentice, aye? TV show and all that, you know man! Haha!" He shook the boss's hand.
"Err...yes," said the boss. Charles sat down.
"Shite chair!" he said. "Hurts my back! I'd want a more comfy one if I get they job, you know what I mean?"
"Yes...this won't be the actual chair you'd be sitting on," said the boss, looking concerned.
"Cool, man, cool!" said Charles. "Here man, that secretary you've got...she's mighty fine you know what I mean, sir!"
"She's my daughter," said the boss.
"You're wife must be a fucking stunner then, man!" said Charles.
"What do you think you'd bring to the job," said the boss, trying to ignore this.
"What would I bring? Probably some hash for all my co-workers to smoke at break time, man! My brother's a dealer so I can get loads and I don't mind sharing! Good stuff too, man, get you well mashed!"
"Err...I don't think you're quite right for this position," said the boss.
"Aye, that's cause the chair's cutting into my back!" said Charles, standing up. "How about if I stand, is that an okay position for you, sir Alan?"
"No, I mean, the job," said the boss. "You're just not right for it, I'm sorry. You may leave."
"You didnae even give me a proper interview, man!" said Charles. And he picked up the uncomfortable chair.
"What are you doing!?" asked the boss, desperation in his voice, pressing his intercom. "Samantha, please call the police!"
"Oh it's like that is it, call the police just because I'm a wee bit rough around the ages and all that!" said Charles. "Well fucking eat chair ya stuff-shirt!" And he swung the chair. The boss ducked down behind his desk. But Charles didn't let go.
"Get out, GET OUT!" shouted the boss from under the desk.
"There's no need to be like this, man!" said Charles. "I wasn't even going to throw it, I was just giving you a wee scare like!"
"GET OUT!"
"You big pussy!" said Charles, throwing the chair backwards in anger. He heard a scream. A girl's scream. He turned around slowly. The boss stood up from behind the desk.
"Samantha!? NO!" said the boss. His daughter was standing in the doorway, holding her face, crying in pain. The chair had hit her right in the nose.
"Aww, shit," said Charles. He looked out into the waiting room, where the other applicants were now standing up, looking in in shock. There was no way he could get by all of them. "Look man, this office is on ground level, isn't it?" he asked the boss.
"I'LL KILL YOU!"
"Aye, never mind!" said Charles, running to the window and jumping through it. Luckily, the window swung open as he hit it. Unluckily, he was actually on the third floor.
"That's the last time I listen to you!" said Charles, handcuffed to his hospital bed with the police watching, to his apologetic brother.
