Help Wanted

Today’s prompt: “Write a scene in which a woman is fired after only a week on the job. Just a week earlier, the same person who is now firing her was very persuasive in convincing her to take the job.” [I’m going to be sticking with my format about being ambiguous about the reader’s gender.]

“I’m so sorry. It’s just not working out,” Mark says. “I thought you’d be the perfect candidate, but you just haven’t been a good fit.”

“Your want ad said nothing about ritual sacrifice,” you pointedly tell Mark.

“It did say, ‘Must be able to work well within a routine.’”

“Routine means like, an hour of managing inventory followed by a couple hours of meetings, interspersed with answering the phones,” you say. “Not leading victims into a room with a big pentagram on the floor and performing incantations over the Dark Priest’s daggers.”

“Agree to disagree,” says Mark. “Anyhow, you led me to believe you had a real knack for coming up with bold, creative new solutions to problems.”

“I do. I just don’t see a lack of exciting new torture techniques to be a problem.”

“That’s some limited thinking right there, I’m sad to say. I really thought you had potential. You said you enjoyed kindling relationships with co-workers and clients alike.”

“I do!”

“You refused to set a single person on fire!”

“I–.” You stop yourself midsentence, cross your arms and fume.

“The ad said, ‘Must be able to handle yourself in a chaotic environment,’” Mark says.

“You cannot reasonably expect anyone to infer from that that they’re going to be expected to help resurrect a Chaos Demon,” you say.

“And yet, it’s a crucial part of the job. I’m sorry,” Mark says. “But we’re going to have to fire you.”

“Whatever,” you say, standing up and walking toward the door of Mark’s office. “Let me just grab my things.”

A column of flame pours from the vent in the ceiling by the door and immolates you.

“That won’t be necessary,” Mark says.