III: Zelgadiss
Wanted!!!
Desperately
seeking one obsessed chimera who is part mazoku,
rock golem and human. Please apply within.
A hooded and cloaked figure entered
the room and sat down quietly into the wooden chair opposite. The quiet drone
of the fan above vibrated through the still musty air while it buzzed lazily.
The silence was getting a wee bit
too thick.
Glancing down at the thin file, I
cleared my throat. “It says here your name is Zelgadiss. Well, what exactly
makes you think that you will be chosen for this role?”
He looked up and removed his hood
and cloak, tossing them casually on the table. “Because I’m an obsessed chimera
who is part mazoku, part rock golem and part human, searching for a cure?”
“Not good enough.”
*SWEATDROP* “Excuse me?” He fairly
goggled at me as if I was half-mad. “The part does require an obsessed chimera
who is searching for a cure right? And this chimera is supposed to be part
mazoku, part rock golem and part human right?”
“Yes.” I nodded solemnly. “But we’re
an equal opportunity employer. We don’t look at appearances. Makeup can do
wonders…”
He spluttered. “Makeup?”
“Yes. What we’re concerned with is
whether you can act. In fact, the last candidate was quite suitable. He played
a dark and tortured soul in a bat costume who was obsessed with his parents’
murder. His name was… Bruce Wayne
I believe.”
“Bruce Wayne?! You’re choosing
Batman over me?!”
“Well, he does have quite an
impressive portfolio…”
“His last few films were flops!”
“Tut tut, no need for the green eyed
monster. Tell you what, why don’t you take this axe and chop that piece of wood
over there and say the line “I want to be stronger”?”
Zelgadiss glared at me with narrowed
eyes before grabbing the axe and stalking away, muttering about beheaded
interviewers and shoving green eyed monsters up somewhat delicate under his
breath. Smiling sweetly, I gestured
at him. “You may begin.”
He scowled before hunching over.
Lifting his axe, he brought it down so hard I could feel the wind from the
movement. I stared wide-eyed at the axe which had split the piece of wood
through… and impaled itself deeply into the
floor. The not wooden floor.
The concrete, titanium-strengthened adamantium floor.
I gulped. He showed his teeth and
fingered the axe suggestively.
“And your answer is…?”
“You have the job.”
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