In my job search, I’ve found there to be certain unnecessary equalities arbitrarily built into our legal system. The Civil Rights Act, Americans with Disabilities Act, and U.S. Constitution are way too progressive for my liking. I mean, how can these bleeding-heart, unbiased corporate executives ever hope to hire anyone qualified for the position? Hey execs, the world doesn’t need another Mahatma Gandhi. We therefore must enforce discrimination and prejudice policies to ensure that able-bodied, white, heterosexual males are employers’ top priorities.
CEO: Explain some of your work experience, please.
Melissa: Well, I worked at Mercer for three years as a financial consultant before working as…
CEO: No, no, no. Explain your work experience. [Makes handjob motion]
Melissa: Oh, that wasn’t on my resume? Weird. Well, I’ve given 74 handjobs, 65 blowjobs, and four rimjobs.
CEO: [Face lights up] You certainly seem qualified for the position, but I would like you to work through a case study. [Unzips pants] Don’t worry, there’s no math involved.
Melissa: Great, math disgusts me. [Crawls under desk]
CEO: Wow, how did you find a parking space?
Allen: I was driven here by my father.
CEO: Oh, so he feels guilty for producing a bad seed, does he?
Allen: I lost my legs in the Iraq War, if that’s what you’re referring to.
CEO: It looks like you also lost your dignity, your sense of value, what would appear to be your right index finger, and a job opportunity here.
Allen: If I had any legs, I’d kick you in the balls.
CEO: If you had any legs, you’d kick Melissa in the head as she sucked my two balls.
Melissa: [Lifts up head] I thought you said there’d be no math.
CEO: It says here you’re incredibly lazy.
Dancing Bear: Where does it say that?
CEO: Across your Mexican face! [Slaps self high-five]
Dancing Bear: I’m not Mexican. I’m Native American.
CEO: Oh, in that case, I have a joke. How many Native Americans does it take to screw in a light bulb? All three of them. You and your
two drunk friends probably named something stupid like “Fire Belly” and “Fixes Lightbulbs.”
Dancing Bear: I see now that my type is not welcomed in these parts. Unless, of course, you still need that lightbulb changed.
CEO: I sure do.
Dancing Bear: [Reaches for phone and calls his two remaining friends, Fire Belly and Fixes Lightbulbs]
CEO: Let’s start by looking over your resume and vagina. In fact, can I grab your boobs?
Cicely: Jesus, what kind of girl do you think I am? I will not jeopardize my morals…unless, of course, I am offered a job first.
CEO: Will you bring your hard work ethic and breasts to work every day?
Cicely: I’ll bring my breasts.
CEO: What about your work eth…oh fuck it. You’re hired. Pull your hair back and let me show you around the office. [Points beneath
desk] Oh, by the way, that’s Melissa.
Melissa: Hrumph humph.
CEO: I’m not sure if we have the facilities to accommodate your disabilities.
CEO: Did I say “disabilities”? Because I meant to say “your fat fucking ass.”
Carl: I know I have a bit of a weight problem, but I’m currently trying to shed some pounds.
CEO: Does your plan include seeing doctors who could internally give you liposuction or gastro-bypass surgery?
Carl: Yes; yes it does.
CEO: Well, in that case, I must recommend my friend Martin Stokee. He’s very good. He did my wife’s penis reduction surgery.
Carl: Your wife has a penis?
CEO: A reduced penis, yes. At least she has an employed husband, which is more than your wife can say. Now let me get a team of secretaries to lower you out of here.