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| To Ruin your Life |
Dear Weedman Overlord,
I am writing to you to inform you, that your Ottawa Location is responsible for the untimely death of my cute fluffy little kitten, Mittens.
Here is what happened:
A few months back I was fresh of the boat here in Canada.
I was a lucky guy, because it is not often that Canadian girls find the obscure Polish magazine I advertise myself in. Apparently, there is plenty of opportunities for Mail order Brides, but Polish Manslaves are a lot harder to market. I was 200% lucky because usually my clients are grunting fem-hobbits with hair on their teeth, but this one was absolutely stunning. The downside of this is that it made me want to stay around forever instead of gnawing off my arm after the first night.
It also meant I had to get a job instead of living a glorious life as a leech FOREVER!
It quickly became apparent that the Canadian job market is slightly different than the Polish one.
None of my highly marketable skills from Poland (Ostrich Wrestling and Decimating Ninjas with a single blow) came in handy here. I don’t know what happened to the Ostrich population in Canada, but I’m guessing the Polish immigrants are running a rampant underground Ostrich Tournament in Quebec.
Ninjas are plenty in some areas around Ottawa, but I don’t want to get in trouble with their Union.
Considering the complete lack of other skills and the fact that I do not speak Canadian, I was unemployed for 73 years. (No, there is no fault in my story there, I just happen to Time Travel a lot). After this time, I started to feel a little inadequate as a MAN and getting an allowance at the age of 28 is also a little emasculating, so I made a vow to myself and The Babe that I would set out and get a job no matter what.
For the next 12 years, I practiced my Canadian and learned the entire Menu of Tim Hortons by heart, so I could fill in a position there as soon as someone would quit.
I was a lucky guy, because it is not often that Canadian girls find the obscure Polish magazine I advertise myself in. Apparently, there is plenty of opportunities for Mail order Brides, but Polish Manslaves are a lot harder to market. I was 200% lucky because usually my clients are grunting fem-hobbits with hair on their teeth, but this one was absolutely stunning. The downside of this is that it made me want to stay around forever instead of gnawing off my arm after the first night.
It also meant I had to get a job instead of living a glorious life as a leech FOREVER!
It quickly became apparent that the Canadian job market is slightly different than the Polish one.
None of my highly marketable skills from Poland (Ostrich Wrestling and Decimating Ninjas with a single blow) came in handy here. I don’t know what happened to the Ostrich population in Canada, but I’m guessing the Polish immigrants are running a rampant underground Ostrich Tournament in Quebec.
Ninjas are plenty in some areas around Ottawa, but I don’t want to get in trouble with their Union.
Considering the complete lack of other skills and the fact that I do not speak Canadian, I was unemployed for 73 years. (No, there is no fault in my story there, I just happen to Time Travel a lot). After this time, I started to feel a little inadequate as a MAN and getting an allowance at the age of 28 is also a little emasculating, so I made a vow to myself and The Babe that I would set out and get a job no matter what.
For the next 12 years, I practiced my Canadian and learned the entire Menu of Tim Hortons by heart, so I could fill in a position there as soon as someone would quit.
Eventually, the Internet was invented and that seemed like a good opportunity for me to rule the world. I “uploaded” my 4kb resume and I sat back to enjoy the 15 million offers that would soon come my way.
It was an immediate success!
The first business opportunity that was presented to me was a Nigerian Prince who was the sole survivor of a plane crash and needed a way to get his money out of the country. All he needed was access to my bank account. I’m still waiting for the first transfer, but I have already picked out a Mansion for when he deposits.
It was an immediate success!
The first business opportunity that was presented to me was a Nigerian Prince who was the sole survivor of a plane crash and needed a way to get his money out of the country. All he needed was access to my bank account. I’m still waiting for the first transfer, but I have already picked out a Mansion for when he deposits.
The second offer was equally attractive and that was the recruiter from Weedman that called me.
At first I thought I finally found an opening to the Canadian Drug Cartel and make 16 billion dollar a week, but alas, it was just your shitty corporation that wanted to talk to me.
The guy, let’s call him Douche, told me that my resume looked very interesting and that all his experience in HR told him that I would be a perfect fit to work for Weedman!
My heart leapt in joy! Finally I would be Decimating Ninjas or Wrestling Ostrich again!
I made an appointment to see him at the earliest convenience!
All excited I fired of the Googlies to see what an awesome company Weedman was and I started reading reviews. My excitement quickly faded as I read review after review that the roots of your company go down all the way into the bellows of Hell.
Since our household was basically going through famine at this point, I still mustered the strength to through with this job interview, even though I rather put glowing pokers into my ears.
However, I found hope in the bible, considering that Job (Book of Job) was the epitome of Enduring Suffering.
Three days later I got into my best set of Spandex and my Lucha Libre mask to make a good impression on your recruiter, Douche.
Strangely enough your location wasn’t on any map, probably because nobody has send a cartographer into Limbo yet. The only reason I found that place was because of the roaming Gargoyles above your headquarters.
When I got in, I saw some of your minions chained to their desks and a few other lifeless husks sitting on a bench holding application forms in their cold dead fingers. Now, although I do consider myself a prime specimen of a human being, I prefer not to look down upon other specimens, but it was pretty clear to me that the other candidates had clearly never Decimated a Ninja before OR Wrestled an Ostrich. One of them was so creepy though, he might have dated an Ostrich at some point in his life. For a few minutes it was a fun little game to compare the candidates with the already chained down employees.
I figured if the candidate looks like a diseased Snorlax , they would most likely make it as an employee when they would be resurrected as a Zombie Weedman Snorlax.
At first I thought I finally found an opening to the Canadian Drug Cartel and make 16 billion dollar a week, but alas, it was just your shitty corporation that wanted to talk to me.
The guy, let’s call him Douche, told me that my resume looked very interesting and that all his experience in HR told him that I would be a perfect fit to work for Weedman!
My heart leapt in joy! Finally I would be Decimating Ninjas or Wrestling Ostrich again!
I made an appointment to see him at the earliest convenience!
All excited I fired of the Googlies to see what an awesome company Weedman was and I started reading reviews. My excitement quickly faded as I read review after review that the roots of your company go down all the way into the bellows of Hell.
Since our household was basically going through famine at this point, I still mustered the strength to through with this job interview, even though I rather put glowing pokers into my ears.
However, I found hope in the bible, considering that Job (Book of Job) was the epitome of Enduring Suffering.
Three days later I got into my best set of Spandex and my Lucha Libre mask to make a good impression on your recruiter, Douche.
Strangely enough your location wasn’t on any map, probably because nobody has send a cartographer into Limbo yet. The only reason I found that place was because of the roaming Gargoyles above your headquarters.
When I got in, I saw some of your minions chained to their desks and a few other lifeless husks sitting on a bench holding application forms in their cold dead fingers. Now, although I do consider myself a prime specimen of a human being, I prefer not to look down upon other specimens, but it was pretty clear to me that the other candidates had clearly never Decimated a Ninja before OR Wrestled an Ostrich. One of them was so creepy though, he might have dated an Ostrich at some point in his life. For a few minutes it was a fun little game to compare the candidates with the already chained down employees.
I figured if the candidate looks like a diseased Snorlax , they would most likely make it as an employee when they would be resurrected as a Zombie Weedman Snorlax.
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A typical Snorlax |
Clearly overqualified I contemplated my escape out of this “Job Interview” before one of your Sorcerers could cast an enslaving spell on me.
It was around then that I heard it. The Sentence That Cannot Be Unheard…
“It’s an Amazing Day at Weedman, How May I Amaze You?”
The sentence shot straight through my funny bone as a bolt fired from a Virulent Crossbow.
It started somewhere low in my stomach and rumbled up slowly until I couldn’t hold it in.
I had to run outside and let out a bellowing laugh. Mhuahahaha.
Perhaps it is part of your brainwashing tactics that you make your employees answer the phone like that, but I am pretty sure it is in conflict with the Geneva Convention on how to treat Prisoners of War.
The Babe saw my standing there, roaring and asked me how the interview went.
I told her that I didn’t go in yet and that we could still make it out of there alive if she wanted to.
However, her damn sense of reason and logic made me go back again and sit through my punishment.
This time around it was slightly more interesting though and even more convincing that I would never give my soul to your company.
It was around then that I heard it. The Sentence That Cannot Be Unheard…
“It’s an Amazing Day at Weedman, How May I Amaze You?”
The sentence shot straight through my funny bone as a bolt fired from a Virulent Crossbow.
It started somewhere low in my stomach and rumbled up slowly until I couldn’t hold it in.
I had to run outside and let out a bellowing laugh. Mhuahahaha.
Perhaps it is part of your brainwashing tactics that you make your employees answer the phone like that, but I am pretty sure it is in conflict with the Geneva Convention on how to treat Prisoners of War.
The Babe saw my standing there, roaring and asked me how the interview went.
I told her that I didn’t go in yet and that we could still make it out of there alive if she wanted to.
However, her damn sense of reason and logic made me go back again and sit through my punishment.
This time around it was slightly more interesting though and even more convincing that I would never give my soul to your company.
One of the things that amused me was when one of your Lesser Demons got bit by a Spider and said “Why does it always bite ME?” The fact that she used the word “always” made me realize that it is probably torture tactics the Lair Masters use whenever the Phone Banshees aren’t laboring for a slight second.
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| A new Weedman Employee bing born. |
Although I simply LOVE getting bitten by possibly poisonous arachnids, I prefer having this done in my spare time on not “on the clock”.
Another gem one of the underdressed Pigbeasts let out was “No sir, we have a recording of you ordering our centennial service AND we have pictures of you cheating on your wife, are you sure you want to use that tone?”
Although I admit that is pretty fucking sneaky, it might be a little overdone if people want to get to speak to a manager.
It was then finally time for me to get into a dark separate room with Douche the recruiter.
The room kind of reminded me of the time I was exposed as a CIA spy in North Korea and kept for 25 years in an underground cell. But even this didn’t make the interview a more pleasant experience.
It quickly became apparent that Douche didn’t have a lot of experience with people who posses an IQ over 10 and he was asking me a series of downright retarded questions.
During this interrogation I was thinking to myself that with my highschool diploma I must have been at least twice as educated as Douche. I was also fantasizing about Douche competing in a Japanese Gameshow where the challenge is to eat raw Fugu. Douche, as motivate as he is, tries to swallow the whole Devilfish as once, causing it to blow up in his throat, poking tiny poisonous fish spikes into his esophagus.
One of his questions was “How would you convince me that you really want to work for Weedman?”
Normally, during a job interview I would have a good answer to a question like this, but in this case I couldn’t choose between “Because I like to work with hopeless projects” and “Because Polishing turds is a passion”.
However I went with, “I need a temporary job until a real opportunity to come along, please don’t hire me”.
He then asked me if I had any trouble working from 11 PM to 5 AM and that’s where I told him "good luck" and "I hope the Stealth Spider bites you in the eyebal"l.
This is when I made a big mistake.
I know I should have firebombed the place as I left to make sure the Demons couldn’t follow me home, but, the humanitarian that i am, I resorted to non-lethal magic instead.
In the showdown some of your Venomous Ninja Spiders hid under my car and I accidently drove them to my hideout.
As my cute kitten Mittens walked down the driveway to greet me, they leapt from under my car and devoured her right there.
In my rage, I curb stomped them in half hurting my ankle in the process.
During this interrogation I was thinking to myself that with my highschool diploma I must have been at least twice as educated as Douche. I was also fantasizing about Douche competing in a Japanese Gameshow where the challenge is to eat raw Fugu. Douche, as motivate as he is, tries to swallow the whole Devilfish as once, causing it to blow up in his throat, poking tiny poisonous fish spikes into his esophagus.
One of his questions was “How would you convince me that you really want to work for Weedman?”
Normally, during a job interview I would have a good answer to a question like this, but in this case I couldn’t choose between “Because I like to work with hopeless projects” and “Because Polishing turds is a passion”.
However I went with, “I need a temporary job until a real opportunity to come along, please don’t hire me”.
He then asked me if I had any trouble working from 11 PM to 5 AM and that’s where I told him "good luck" and "I hope the Stealth Spider bites you in the eyebal"l.
This is when I made a big mistake.
I know I should have firebombed the place as I left to make sure the Demons couldn’t follow me home, but, the humanitarian that i am, I resorted to non-lethal magic instead.
In the showdown some of your Venomous Ninja Spiders hid under my car and I accidently drove them to my hideout.
As my cute kitten Mittens walked down the driveway to greet me, they leapt from under my car and devoured her right there.
In my rage, I curb stomped them in half hurting my ankle in the process.
If you hadn’t tricked me into coming in for a job interview, this wouldn’t have happened.
As you can imagine, I am not amused.
-Dave Stevens
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