A peculiar job interview

The little fan on the secretary's desk kept me amused for the most part of my wait. The office was not the highest point of professionalism, but meant business all the same. Beyond the glass doors, the sounds of phones ringing and pens clicking filled my ears. I gripped my bag tighter in anticipation.

A few more seconds passed in which felt like minutes. Sweat started to for on my forehead and my breathing picked up considerably. I rocked myself back and forth, as an attempt to calm myself. From her desk, I knew the secretary was giving me awkward glances.

"Can I get you some water, Miss Swan?"

"No, thank you," I managed to squeak out and then shot her a hopeful look. "You wouldn't happen to have some gin handy?"

At that moment, the intercom on her desk decided to speak.

"You can send her in," said the deep voice from the other side. A chill shot up my spine.

"Mr. Cullen will see you now," she said and I merely nodded. A moment of silence passed through the dense room.

"That means you can go inside," she pointed out and I jumped up, clutching my bag close to my chest.

"Right!" I nodded at her and crossed the room to the door behind her busy desk. Slowly, I turned the knob and the door creaked open at my touch. A moment of expectation exploded into my eyes, but it all quickly faded away when I entered the office.

"Ah! You're here! Sit down, miss," said the man occupying the desk. I closed the door behind me and stepped forward hesitantly.

The office was much smaller than I expected. Files and folders filled every corner and inch. On every wall was a poster of some kind of fruit. The fan on the roof spun leisurely and a toy airplane was tied to it. It zoomed around in a circle. I was momentarily hypnotized.

"Sit down, sit down! Let's get started, shall we?" the man offered again, and I took a seat in front of him. We shook hands.

"Bella Cullen."

"Good to know," he said with a genuine smile and sat back in his seat. I was momentarily stunned.

"Okay, let's begin," he started immediately. "First question! Your favorite fruit?"

My eyes racked at the seriousness in his tone and I began to panic. I had mentally prepared for any question possible, but not this one. Desperately I glanced around the office, hoping the posters would give me an answer. The poster behind his chair caught my eye.

"Uh, pineapple?"

His face broke out into a beam. "Really? Mine too!"

I tried to act surprised as he was. "You're kidding!"

"No, I don't like to kid," he explained. "You see, I'm more in an adult league. I do fancy to teenager now and again, but I never kid."

I nodded gradually and clutched my bag closer.

"Right! So do you prefer dark and isolated alleys or baloney?"

'I know this!' I thought excitedly.

"Uh, Germany?"

He looked thoughtful for a moment, made no response and ticked off something on his clipboard.

"Very well, last question. On a scale from one to ten, which number in the alphabet is your favorite colour?"

My heart skipped a beat. All my experience and every penny my parents spent on my education came down to this question. My entire question depended on my response and answer. This man was obviously far more intelligent than I hoped. I took a breath.

"Frugglewacker?"

I awaited his reaction. He stared at me blankly for almost thirteen seconds, until he slowly stood up and began to clap his hands. He wiped away a tear with his sleeve and started to clap irregularly fast. I smiled up at him.

"Brilliant, positively brilliant! You're hired!" he exclaimed, or rather shouted.

We shook hands once more and I left the office feeling victorious. Applause followed me everywhere until I exited the building.

A/N: I wrote this as an essay for my Home Language exam. The teacher laughed like a maniac so I thought I'd share it with you guys. I know it's short, but my words had to be limited. If anything, I wrote more than I had to.

I should probably update my other stories . . . but it's in the middle of exams soooooooooo . . . no.

Thank you for reading!

(^^,)