The door to Hatman’s office burst open and Kerry Shepherdson stormed through it. “How long is my lunch break?!” she demanded.
Hatman looked up from the list of potential candidates for Hatman’s personal assistant. “I beg your pardon?” Hatman asked. At this point he was more confused than angry.
The Probability Arsonist plopped down into the chair in front of Hatman’s desk and put her feet on his desk. “Y’know, my lunch break. How long is it?” She pulled out a lighter and began to flick it on and off.
Hatman picked up Kerry’s feet and dropped them on the floor. “I think that’s something to take up with Visionary Kerry.”
“No, I have to take it up with you. Fake-O’s making me pay for the damages to the Hogan Academy girls locker room, so I need a job. You’re hiring, ain’tcha?” Kerry popped a bubble with the gum she was chewing.
“Damages?” asked Hatman.
“I sort of blew it up, but I gave those girls fair warning not to look at me funny,” the Junior defended herself. She popped another bubble.
“And you want to work as my assistant to pay for it,” summarized Hatman. “Well, what makes you qualified for the position?” Hatman was doing his best to remain calm and collected, but he could feel his eye start to twitch.
Kerry shrugged her shoulders. “El Dweebador told me about his old assistant. I figure anything she could do I can do better.”
Hatman had a flashback to Troia’s days as the Lair Legion leader’s assistant. Then he added fire and more lawsuits, and he shuddered in horror at the mere thought.
“Look Kerry, I’d like to help you out, but I don’t think I can hire you as my assistant,” said Hatman. Kerry stopped flicking her lighter and looked at him incredulously.
“It’s because I’m Irish, isn’t it? You’re a racist!” Kerry shouted, jumping to her feet.
Hatman rose to his feet as well. “That is exactly why I can’t hire you Kerry. You come in for a job interview in torn up jeans, chewing gum and you’ve been playing with that lighter the whole time. How does this demonstrate to me that you’re able to be professional?”
“This is me being professional! Your eyebrows aren’t singed, are they?” Kerry glowered back.
“That’s enough Kerry. Visionary may take your garbage, but I have no patience for it. Get out of my office, now,” Hatman strode over to the door and opened it.
“You’re kicking me out? Are you serious?” Kerry asked incredulously. Her lighter flared up, the flame bigger and brighter than before.
“Very serious. Out.” Hatman put his hands on his hips, clearly indicating he was losing patience with her.
“You can’t kick me out! Nobody kicks me out!” Kerry shouted.
“Before you go nuclear Kerry, I’d like to point out that I’m acting leader of the team right now. This is still Sir Mumphrey’s office,” said Hatman sternly.
Kerry paused in her rant to consider that. Did she really want the ire of the Eccentric Englishman for blowing up his office?
“You win this round,” she glowered as she stormed out.
Hatman closed the door behind her and sighed in relief. He returned to his desk and let go of the Los Angeles Lakers cap he had been preparing to pull out in case Kerry did light the office on fire.
There was a polite knock at the door. Hatman pulled out the Lakers cap again, just in case it was Kerry trying to throw him off. “Come in,” he called.
He relaxed when Fashion Accessory walked in. She was dressed in a smart lilac business suit. “Are you still interviewing for your assistant position?”
“Yes I am, Samantha. Please, have a seat,” Hatman beckoned.
