In an empty office, Joli sits, leg-tapping, anxiety in his eyes. 

The door opens, and as always happens with Managerions, his front arms enter the room first, followed shortly by his head, which wears a large, welcoming smile on its bottom mouth.

Joli rises, eager to please, and extends his single arm for a handshake. The Managerion grabs it with one of his back arms, which has finally entered the room after his torso.

“Please, please, no need to stand. I’m not the bloody queen, am I?” The Managorian chuckled at its own joke. “I’m Bob, and I’m excited to conduct your interview today.”

Joli sits back down. “Very nice to meet you, Bob.”

“Right. Let’s get to it, then.” Bob arranges his body into the cavernous Managerion seat and places his appendages into the slots. His HUD appears, showing a photo of Joni and a resume.

“There we are. You are Joli Writs, correct?” 

Joli nods. Bob scans the resume. Joli watches, trying to stop his leg.  He waits. Bob continues to scan. Joli continues to wait. 

Bob grunts a “huh” in reaction to something on the resume. Joli’s eyebrows raise, expectant…but no further explanation is forthcoming. Bob continues to scan.

Bob finally turns his eyes up to Joli. “So what can you tell me about yourself, Mr. Writs.” Though it was phrased as a question, the inflection didn’t match. It was more like a prompt.

Joli takes his cue, tries not to swallow, and launches into his prepared spiel. “Well, Bob, I’m a go-getter, you know? I’m driven to succeed, and I don’t think there’s anywhere I’d rather do it than here, at Corporate Corp. I’m just so impressed with this team and the opportunity to work here and help you do what this company does would be just a dream come true.”

Bob does not accept Joli’s break in cadence as an opportunity to respond. His fifteen eyes continue to bore into Joli, and Joli tries not to react.

“This position is exactly what I’m looking for at this stage of my career, and I feel like my skillset is a perfect match for the needs of a company like Corporate Corp.”

“And what skillset would that be, Mr. Writs?”

Joli hesitates. Beads of sweat instantly form on the back of his neck. He squirms, not sure what to say. “My skillset? It’s, uh…it’s hard to, you know…just say it. It’s pretty varied…like,…it’s hard to , uh…compartmentalize, you know…?

Bob’s face scrunches. “I’ve got to be honest, Mr. Writs. I’m looking at your resume here and your work experience is…confusing. There’s just doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to these positions… video production? The United Nations? Computer repair? You currently work at a framing shop, and you went to school for acting? I just…I need your help to really understand what it is you actually, uh…do?”

Joli’s leg starts tapping again. This time, he can’t control the swallowing as he speaks, his voice meek and apologetic. “Well, Bob…I…uh. I’m a, uh…”

Bob leans in. “Yes…?”

Joli freezes, then – deciding – he goes for it. 

“My degree is in writing, Bob.”