The Job Interview (Apologies to Monty Python)

Scene: inside of an anonymous looking concrete building in Washington D.C. think utilitarian 60's architecture. Bob, dressed impeccably in his best grey flannel suit, walks down the hall under flickering fluorescent lights. He comes to a door marked "United States Dept. of Torture a Subdivision of Halliburton" and walks in. Seated behind a plain metal desk is a man in a black suit.


Bob: Good morning. I've come about the job.

Man in the Black Suit: Job, what job?

Bob: The one you advertised in the paper.

Man in the Black Suit: We didn't advertise a position.

Bob: Is this room 666?

Man in the Black Suit: Yes.

Bob: Right then. The ad said "Experienced torturers wanted. Several openings. Must be willing to relocate to Eastern Europe. Apply Room 666." So, I'm here to apply.

Man in the Black Suit: There must be some mistake. We don't hire torturers. Why, I never heard of such a ridiculous thing. (Looks around nervously)

Bob: What about the sign on the door then?

Man in the Black Suit: Sign? There's no sign on the door.

Bob: There most certainly is.

Man in the Black Suit: There most certainly is not.

Bob: Oh yes there is. Big as life. A right proper sign with letters and words and everything.

Man in the Black Suit: Look, who works in this office me or you?

Bob: You, I suppose, although I can't say I've seen you do any work.

Man in the Black Suit: Right then, if I am the one working here then I should know whether there is a sign on the door, and I say there isn't.

Bob walks over to the door, opens it and points at the sign.

Bob: Here now, what's this then?

Man in the Black Suit pulls a screwdriver from his desk drawer, walks over to the door and removes the sign. He puts the sign and the screwdriver in his drawer.

Man in the Black Suit: What's what? I don't see a thing.

Bob shakes his head.

Bob: So you're not looking to hire an experienced torturer then?

Man in the Black Suit: Of course not!

Bob starts to get up.

Man in the Black Suit: Hang on a minute. Did you say you were an experienced torturer?

Bob: Oh yes, quite experienced. Just ask my three ex-wives. Ha ha -- that was just a joke. No, I didn't really torture my ex-wives. Well, not all of them anyway. Just kidding! Now my neighbors, that's a different story. Right bunch of wankers deserved everything they got! Especially that wanky Dennis Moore. Now if ever there was a wanker deserved torturing it was that bastard!

Man in the Black Suit: Yes, yes, I'm sure. Tell me, what would you say are your strengths as a torturer?

Bob: Sorry, what did you say?

Man in the Black Suit: I said, what would you say are your strengths as a torturer?

Bob: Well I'm really quite good at dragging my fingernails across a blackboard. Oh yes, quite good at that.

Man in the Black Suit: Dragging your fingernails across a blackboard? You call that torture!?!

Bob: It is really quite effective, particularly if you follow it up with Barry Manilow karaoke.

Man in the Black Suit: No, no that won't do at all. The Geneva Convention specifically prohibits the use of any Barry Manilow songs.

Bob: Well I'm also quite good with bubble gum.

Man in the Black Suit: Bubble gum!?! How is that torture?

Bob: Have you ever tried to get it out of your hair? Let me tell you that is real torture!

Man in the Black Suit: This is ridiculous!

Bob: Not a pretty sight either I can tell you. Especially the grape flavor. That purple food coloring just ruins all of the highlights. Have to use a special shampoo to get that out, oh yes not an easy thing at all. And if you make the mistake of mixing the grape and the strawberry flavors? Well . . .

Man in the Black Suit (interrupting): Look, if this were an office that had anything to do with torture, which it isn't, and if we were hiring, which we aren't, I'm afraid you just would not be qualified for a position. Blackboards and bubble gum indeed!

Bob: Not qualified! I'll have you know I have spent the past 5 years as a telemarketer!

Man in the Black Suit: Well why didn't you say so in the first place old chap! Here, I know I have an application in here somewhere.

Man in the Black Suit rummages through desk.

Man in the Black Suit: Here we are. Just need you to sign this loyalty oath and the form attesting that you do not know anyone working at the New York Times, and then give me some proof of citizenship and you're on your way.

Bob: Citizenship! Well, that's an awful lot to ask.

Man in the Black Suit: Oh, you must be a citizen to work here I'm afraid.

Bob: Hang on -- I contributed money to the President's re-election campaign!

Man in the Black Suit: Well, just this once then I suppose. It's just a piece of paper after all.

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