(Sir) Tristram Bexindale-Webb implores you to…Meet Our Summer Intern Applicants
Meet Charlotte Branney. She’s scrappy, bounding in energy, and is fully quasi-illiterate. She is able to crawl under men’s legs and slip her hands into their pockets, retrieving the finest of treasures. Knowing the alphabet up to the letter “D,” Charlotte may be useful in obtaining office supplies at a very low cost to us. At no cost, actually. None at all.
This nameless applicant (on right) is a personal acquaintance of our in-house urchin. Were this applicant taken on as a summer intern, it would present confusion in addressing him aggressively. Would he be referred to as Urchin 1 or Urchin 2? Will his still-soft head sustain the blows of my rolled-up Daily Telegraph? Which urchin am I supposed to kick first?
Yes, I know. He looks a bit old to be an intern. But Edwood’s application is impressive. He’s high-spirited. He often initiates games and larks. His feet compulsively move in a sort of dance or “reel.” He is rarely sick with bile. His rants are minimalist. He will only steal from those he despises. He’s an “even” drunk—at once belligerent and glad. He is happiest with buttons, twigs, and lint. He only tried to kill one American president. He rarely wets himself, when “rarely” means “always.”
He is not my father.
Can you help us decide to made this difficult decision with supplementary decision-making?(Just tell me what to do. )