Another Day At the Office -- by KitKat
Good afternoon and welcome to "The Bureau of Fairy Tale Character Placement" or the "BFTCP" for short. My name is Mr. Yorn. I work an eight hour shift placing characters in their proper roles for stories. Or as we like to call them: assignments. It's a very behind the scenes type of job, and I get no thanks whatsoever.
What? You've never heard of the place? You actually believe one set of characters per story last from generation to generation? Ohohohoho, that is where you would be wrong gentle reader. You should see the stacks of papers of applicants wanting to be either "Cinderella" or "Snow White".
What's the perk for being a girl who gets mistreated and or nearly dies? Why marrying the Prince of coarse! They'd put up with a lot of crap to be married into royalty you know.
Oh I hear you say, "What about the "bad people"? They apply here for jobs as well! They're usually rejected applicants for "C" and "SW" (what we call them for short). They get the wicked step mother or step sister roles. Their pay is double (tripled sometimes) due to the fact of "danger pay". I won't go into that however. It's very messy stuff.
However, there are times when I wish I never crawled out of bed. Let me tell you about the day I had today.
Monday at 9 am started off with me finding a big bad wolf at my desk with an application in hand. I had to carefully explain to him that the "Talking Animal" branch is four doors down and to the left. Every week it's the same. I have to be very careful for fear of them suddenly having the taste for civil service worker. Whoever works in that department is a very brave soul. I really hate furries who think they are a part of the human race. Yes, that even goes for "C"'s mice. Then again what I would give to be the worker there during "Cat Girl" day when they apply for the role of "Puss'n Boots".
Around 11 am a young fellow about a head shorter than myself enters my office asking for an application. His appearance was elven with cat eyes, and tanned skin. I ever so politely asked where he hailed from. Much to my dismay he replied that he came from the Underworld. Mind you gentle reader I've never had anyone from the Underworld taking assignments from me and never will!
I politely though quickly informed him that there were no jobs currently fitting his "caliber" and ushered him out of my office. No fuss; no muss. Though I must say he took it rather well. Better than most that have came from the Underworld trying their luck with me. I never said he couldn't ever work around here just not from my department!
I did have a peaceful lunch. Brown bag special (yum).
Well it was peaceful until 1 pm on the dot.
Then they entered. Five tiny beings that resembled the fellow (who was here earlier) entered my office. I don't know how one would classify them. They were too small to be dwarves and too big to be fairies. I just scribbled "elves" on my notepad. It was rather amusing seeing them climb onto my three office chairs. Two of my chairs had two of them sitting silent and sweetly while my third chair had their leader as it were. He did most of the talking.
They looked so much like that fellow that I had to ask them that disqualifying question. "So boys, where ya from?" I was shocked when their leader chimed back with, "We're from the deep south."
Drats...
I then asked, "What type of character work are you seeking?"
The leader sat up straight and proper and said, "We are all looking for the same type of work. That being..." He pause taking a deep breath then finished, "We would like to work in the presence of a young lady. Give her encouragement, affection, love, guidance, and have her take care of us.
At first I thought they wanted an "SW" and was about to tell them not only were they not dwarves but they were two males shy of the requirement for that assignment; however, that was not what they wanted.
"It does not matter if she is a real princess or not," the creature stated looking a bit downcast and twiddling his two white gloved index fingers, "As long as we think she's a princess in our hearts." The other agreed in unison and from what I could see they also were blushing.
Be that as it may, I had to let them know the only job I have available was at the old shoemaker place. I honestly didn't think they would take such a lowly job after what was said, but they looked at one another, smiled, and agreed.
They were all smiles as they were leaving chattering amongst themselves about what to buy to furnish their new place and their new working hours. I tell you the smaller they are the more appreciative they are about their jobs. Male dwarves are fairly easy. It's the dream job of having a runaway princess cook and clean for them, but they never ever read the fine print. "At no point will you be able to marry said princess or have relationship with females once accepting the assignment." Now you know why one of them becomes "grumpy". I don't like the stipulation either, and who ever thought of it should be cast away on a block of ice for all eternity.
Fairies are the best however. They'll take any job. Sidekick, evil fairy, sprite, you name it. Though sometimes you need permission from their Queen before they are able to do anything official in this world. Yes, more paper work from one government to the next. Joy for joy...
Luckily my 2 and 2:30 pm appointments were with the usual females applying for "C" and "SW" a "Rumples", "SB", and "Punzle". The last two are tricky and needs a bit of magic mombojumbo to get the ball rolling as it all starts for them as babies.
I didn't even get a chance to take a breather when my 3:15 pm appointment came in.
It was her again.
Why does she come here every month? It's not like we are an employment agency. Okay we are, but not for the likes of her kind. What kind is she? She is a female dwarf.
Tell me one fairy tale that has a female dwarf that becomes a princessin it, and I'll give that fellow from the Underworld the first job I see!
I see her walk slowly into my office. She has to walk with a cane. That is a strike against her off the old bat. She's plump (another strike), mousey looking (strike three), and her shoes are in dire need of repair.
I motioned for her to sit down, and she climbs into my middle office chair. Not the picture of regalness that one expects to see. I asked her if she is still three feet tall to which she turned a shade of ash and answered, "I'm three feet 8 inches." I jotted it down muttering under my breath that we value our eight inches. She just sat there and smiled. Croaked teeth (Yet another strike).
Okay Miss Spindle (for that was her family name) I see you are applying for the "Cinderella" assignment this time. I shuffled a pile of papers on my desk pulling out the survey question asked to all "C" applicants. If they answer this correctly they move on to the next set of questions.
I cleared my throat and began, "You find that your wicked step-mother has ordered you make breakfast for everyone even the animals in the house before you even had the chance to have your own. What do you do?"
Miss Spindle always gives the same answer.
"Not all step-mothers are mean and wicked. However, if I find myself in that situation, I'd have my own breakfast first cause it is the most important meal of the day. Without it I won't have the energy to do any of my chores for the rest of the day. If they don't understand, then screw'em. Let them make their own breakfast!"
I shook my head, "No, the correct thing to say would have been this: I accept what is handed to me and do my best for my step-family until my prince comes."
I look at her and told her quite frankly that this may not be the job for her. "You need to find something that will suite your needs. Ever thought about getting on the King's dole?" I asked and she nodded, "It's a 100 gold pieces per month. That's enough to get a small cottage outside of town. You might even be able to save up a nice little nest egg for a rainy day."
"But what about Thumbelina?" she said making a last ditch plea (I rather like this, and it's her only plus. It shows she is thinking.).
I had to sigh and explained to her that that was a mistake that we are having to pay dearly for thanks to now ex-co-worker Anderson. I did my upmost best to look as apologetic when telling her that if any female who is 3 inches or under applies here gets the "Thumbelina" assignment automatically. I looked at Ms. Spindle straight in the face and asked, "You can't shrink, can you?"
She chuckled weakly and said, "No. I cannot."
Finally she knew it was her time to leave. She got up, grabbed her cane, thanked me, and proceeded to leave my office. I walked with her to the door, so I could finally take my break. As Ms. Spindle left the building Meorge come up and pats me on the back.
"She would have been the laughing stock of the kingdom. You did the right thing." Meorge said. "By the way, your last appointment for the day is already here and waiting."
So much for my break.
I asked where my next and last appointment for the day was, and everyone in the steno pool pointed towards my office window.
I hate my job.
Yes gentle readers my last appointment for the day was in fact a giant. I heaved a sigh and headed back to my office hoping to God he didn't reek of anything. Please any giants who want to apply here, take a bath, brush your teeth, and suck on a breath mint before coming over for crying out loud!
Much to my pleasure this was not your ordinary run of the watermill giant. For starters he wasn't carrying the standard issue club. Secondly, he was smiling and actually thanked me for seeing him; I shook his finger. He wasn't a very big for a giant. Looked to be about forty feet tall which is rather puny in regards to giants. Lastly his attire was well... How can I say this? He looked more like he was going to go to church (button down shirt with red bow tie and black slacks and shoes) than the standard giant fashion one would expect to see (green shirt, brass buckle belt, and pants).
He handed me his application form which I laid out on my office floor to look over. Very nice penmanship, but that won't get a giant very far. Everything was in order, and all I had to ask him was this: Do you want to be a child eating giant or a princess catching giant?
He blinked and answered, "Neither if you please."
Did I say I hated this job?
"Well, what do you want?" I had to ask.
"I want to take care of people. I want to be friends with everyone and helpful and a good subject to his majesty the King." he smiled showing off his clean teeth. Oh yes, and fresh breath! He did his homework; I must give him credit for that.
I went back to the window and patted his right hand, and I told him he was a good kid. I suggested for him the "princess catching giant" assignment. That would be best for him. That way he'd only have to show superficial giant anger, but he can have free reign on how he take cares of any princesses he finds and catches.
He wasn't too sure about it, but I added that he gets his very own castle in "Sky Country", a regulation hen that lays golden eggs and a self playing and cleaning harp. I did warn him of the possibilities of anyone named "Jack" stealing stuff from him. Either that or any princes that will come to rescue their "true love"and basic fine print stuff that we have to read to giants since they are not able to see the fine prints in their final contracts. Normally giants are not on the top hundred of the smartest people in the kingdom, so they forget about the fine print. I'm hoping this one here from what I see right now won't.
Before my last appointment left I took notice of his ears. His ears pointed up and out. Your basic giant does not have ears like that. I enquired about it, and he said that it was a birth defect. I nodded ready to end my work day, and I also added that he might need to put on a few more pounds to make himself look a little bit bigger and a bit more menacing. He nodded affirmatively and was on his way to start his new life.
Finally it is five o'clock! Time for me to go home, have dinner, play with my daughters, and get some much needed rest from this day. Thank you gentle reader for letting me talk about my job and my day.
Look, I received a message from Emanuel the kingdom's message service boy. My wife wants me to bring home a loaf of bread. Oh, and we have a new cook and caretaker for our four daughters. My wife likes him. She says he is very polite, and he comes from the deep south.
Uh oh...
Good afternoon and welcome to "The Bureau of Fairy Tale Character Placement" or the "BFTCP" for short. My name is Mr. Yorn. I work an eight hour shift placing characters in their proper roles for stories. Or as we like to call them: assignments. It's a very behind the scenes type of job, and I get no thanks whatsoever.
What? You've never heard of the place? You actually believe one set of characters per story last from generation to generation? Ohohohoho, that is where you would be wrong gentle reader. You should see the stacks of papers of applicants wanting to be either "Cinderella" or "Snow White".
What's the perk for being a girl who gets mistreated and or nearly dies? Why marrying the Prince of coarse! They'd put up with a lot of crap to be married into royalty you know.
Oh I hear you say, "What about the "bad people"? They apply here for jobs as well! They're usually rejected applicants for "C" and "SW" (what we call them for short). They get the wicked step mother or step sister roles. Their pay is double (tripled sometimes) due to the fact of "danger pay". I won't go into that however. It's very messy stuff.
However, there are times when I wish I never crawled out of bed. Let me tell you about the day I had today.
Monday at 9 am started off with me finding a big bad wolf at my desk with an application in hand. I had to carefully explain to him that the "Talking Animal" branch is four doors down and to the left. Every week it's the same. I have to be very careful for fear of them suddenly having the taste for civil service worker. Whoever works in that department is a very brave soul. I really hate furries who think they are a part of the human race. Yes, that even goes for "C"'s mice. Then again what I would give to be the worker there during "Cat Girl" day when they apply for the role of "Puss'n Boots".
Around 11 am a young fellow about a head shorter than myself enters my office asking for an application. His appearance was elven with cat eyes, and tanned skin. I ever so politely asked where he hailed from. Much to my dismay he replied that he came from the Underworld. Mind you gentle reader I've never had anyone from the Underworld taking assignments from me and never will!
I politely though quickly informed him that there were no jobs currently fitting his "caliber" and ushered him out of my office. No fuss; no muss. Though I must say he took it rather well. Better than most that have came from the Underworld trying their luck with me. I never said he couldn't ever work around here just not from my department!
I did have a peaceful lunch. Brown bag special (yum).
Well it was peaceful until 1 pm on the dot.
Then they entered. Five tiny beings that resembled the fellow (who was here earlier) entered my office. I don't know how one would classify them. They were too small to be dwarves and too big to be fairies. I just scribbled "elves" on my notepad. It was rather amusing seeing them climb onto my three office chairs. Two of my chairs had two of them sitting silent and sweetly while my third chair had their leader as it were. He did most of the talking.
They looked so much like that fellow that I had to ask them that disqualifying question. "So boys, where ya from?" I was shocked when their leader chimed back with, "We're from the deep south."
Drats...
I then asked, "What type of character work are you seeking?"
The leader sat up straight and proper and said, "We are all looking for the same type of work. That being..." He pause taking a deep breath then finished, "We would like to work in the presence of a young lady. Give her encouragement, affection, love, guidance, and have her take care of us.
At first I thought they wanted an "SW" and was about to tell them not only were they not dwarves but they were two males shy of the requirement for that assignment; however, that was not what they wanted.
"It does not matter if she is a real princess or not," the creature stated looking a bit downcast and twiddling his two white gloved index fingers, "As long as we think she's a princess in our hearts." The other agreed in unison and from what I could see they also were blushing.
Be that as it may, I had to let them know the only job I have available was at the old shoemaker place. I honestly didn't think they would take such a lowly job after what was said, but they looked at one another, smiled, and agreed.
They were all smiles as they were leaving chattering amongst themselves about what to buy to furnish their new place and their new working hours. I tell you the smaller they are the more appreciative they are about their jobs. Male dwarves are fairly easy. It's the dream job of having a runaway princess cook and clean for them, but they never ever read the fine print. "At no point will you be able to marry said princess or have relationship with females once accepting the assignment." Now you know why one of them becomes "grumpy". I don't like the stipulation either, and who ever thought of it should be cast away on a block of ice for all eternity.
Fairies are the best however. They'll take any job. Sidekick, evil fairy, sprite, you name it. Though sometimes you need permission from their Queen before they are able to do anything official in this world. Yes, more paper work from one government to the next. Joy for joy...
Luckily my 2 and 2:30 pm appointments were with the usual females applying for "C" and "SW" a "Rumples", "SB", and "Punzle". The last two are tricky and needs a bit of magic mombojumbo to get the ball rolling as it all starts for them as babies.
I didn't even get a chance to take a breather when my 3:15 pm appointment came in.
It was her again.
Why does she come here every month? It's not like we are an employment agency. Okay we are, but not for the likes of her kind. What kind is she? She is a female dwarf.
Tell me one fairy tale that has a female dwarf that becomes a princessin it, and I'll give that fellow from the Underworld the first job I see!
I see her walk slowly into my office. She has to walk with a cane. That is a strike against her off the old bat. She's plump (another strike), mousey looking (strike three), and her shoes are in dire need of repair.
I motioned for her to sit down, and she climbs into my middle office chair. Not the picture of regalness that one expects to see. I asked her if she is still three feet tall to which she turned a shade of ash and answered, "I'm three feet 8 inches." I jotted it down muttering under my breath that we value our eight inches. She just sat there and smiled. Croaked teeth (Yet another strike).
Okay Miss Spindle (for that was her family name) I see you are applying for the "Cinderella" assignment this time. I shuffled a pile of papers on my desk pulling out the survey question asked to all "C" applicants. If they answer this correctly they move on to the next set of questions.
I cleared my throat and began, "You find that your wicked step-mother has ordered you make breakfast for everyone even the animals in the house before you even had the chance to have your own. What do you do?"
Miss Spindle always gives the same answer.
"Not all step-mothers are mean and wicked. However, if I find myself in that situation, I'd have my own breakfast first cause it is the most important meal of the day. Without it I won't have the energy to do any of my chores for the rest of the day. If they don't understand, then screw'em. Let them make their own breakfast!"
I shook my head, "No, the correct thing to say would have been this: I accept what is handed to me and do my best for my step-family until my prince comes."
I look at her and told her quite frankly that this may not be the job for her. "You need to find something that will suite your needs. Ever thought about getting on the King's dole?" I asked and she nodded, "It's a 100 gold pieces per month. That's enough to get a small cottage outside of town. You might even be able to save up a nice little nest egg for a rainy day."
"But what about Thumbelina?" she said making a last ditch plea (I rather like this, and it's her only plus. It shows she is thinking.).
I had to sigh and explained to her that that was a mistake that we are having to pay dearly for thanks to now ex-co-worker Anderson. I did my upmost best to look as apologetic when telling her that if any female who is 3 inches or under applies here gets the "Thumbelina" assignment automatically. I looked at Ms. Spindle straight in the face and asked, "You can't shrink, can you?"
She chuckled weakly and said, "No. I cannot."
Finally she knew it was her time to leave. She got up, grabbed her cane, thanked me, and proceeded to leave my office. I walked with her to the door, so I could finally take my break. As Ms. Spindle left the building Meorge come up and pats me on the back.
"She would have been the laughing stock of the kingdom. You did the right thing." Meorge said. "By the way, your last appointment for the day is already here and waiting."
So much for my break.
I asked where my next and last appointment for the day was, and everyone in the steno pool pointed towards my office window.
I hate my job.
Yes gentle readers my last appointment for the day was in fact a giant. I heaved a sigh and headed back to my office hoping to God he didn't reek of anything. Please any giants who want to apply here, take a bath, brush your teeth, and suck on a breath mint before coming over for crying out loud!
Much to my pleasure this was not your ordinary run of the watermill giant. For starters he wasn't carrying the standard issue club. Secondly, he was smiling and actually thanked me for seeing him; I shook his finger. He wasn't a very big for a giant. Looked to be about forty feet tall which is rather puny in regards to giants. Lastly his attire was well... How can I say this? He looked more like he was going to go to church (button down shirt with red bow tie and black slacks and shoes) than the standard giant fashion one would expect to see (green shirt, brass buckle belt, and pants).
He handed me his application form which I laid out on my office floor to look over. Very nice penmanship, but that won't get a giant very far. Everything was in order, and all I had to ask him was this: Do you want to be a child eating giant or a princess catching giant?
He blinked and answered, "Neither if you please."
Did I say I hated this job?
"Well, what do you want?" I had to ask.
"I want to take care of people. I want to be friends with everyone and helpful and a good subject to his majesty the King." he smiled showing off his clean teeth. Oh yes, and fresh breath! He did his homework; I must give him credit for that.
I went back to the window and patted his right hand, and I told him he was a good kid. I suggested for him the "princess catching giant" assignment. That would be best for him. That way he'd only have to show superficial giant anger, but he can have free reign on how he take cares of any princesses he finds and catches.
He wasn't too sure about it, but I added that he gets his very own castle in "Sky Country", a regulation hen that lays golden eggs and a self playing and cleaning harp. I did warn him of the possibilities of anyone named "Jack" stealing stuff from him. Either that or any princes that will come to rescue their "true love"and basic fine print stuff that we have to read to giants since they are not able to see the fine prints in their final contracts. Normally giants are not on the top hundred of the smartest people in the kingdom, so they forget about the fine print. I'm hoping this one here from what I see right now won't.
Before my last appointment left I took notice of his ears. His ears pointed up and out. Your basic giant does not have ears like that. I enquired about it, and he said that it was a birth defect. I nodded ready to end my work day, and I also added that he might need to put on a few more pounds to make himself look a little bit bigger and a bit more menacing. He nodded affirmatively and was on his way to start his new life.
Finally it is five o'clock! Time for me to go home, have dinner, play with my daughters, and get some much needed rest from this day. Thank you gentle reader for letting me talk about my job and my day.
Look, I received a message from Emanuel the kingdom's message service boy. My wife wants me to bring home a loaf of bread. Oh, and we have a new cook and caretaker for our four daughters. My wife likes him. She says he is very polite, and he comes from the deep south.
Uh oh...