From the desk of:
Henry Q. Kloutzenheimer
CorporoCorp
All the bureaucracy,
none of the emotion.™
Dear Nathan,
We have received and evaluated your application for
employment, and we regret to inform you that you are a sack of monkey butts.
These. You are these
in a sack.
I know you may be surprised at being called a container of
primate derrieres by a huge corporation such as CorporoCorp. This is not a form
letter that we mail out to all applicants. No, I took time out of my busy
schedule as hiring manager to compose this personalized letter, Nathan, and to
deliver some advice.
But first, allow me to clear up any misconceptions and
questions you may have about being called a sack of monkey butts. This
letter is sadly devoid of witchcraft, so physically you are still a human. A
human that will never pass through an office door of CorporoCorp or any of its
many subsidiaries without being billy-clubbed by a gang of portly security
guards. I envision you reading this right now thinking, “But isn’t ‘sack of
monkey butts’ a compliment? Everybody loves monkeys, especially with their
ornately colored butts, right?” I assure you, the sense of approval and pride
you are feeling right now is unintentional and entirely misconstrued on your
part. I trust once I clarify the true meaning of the phrase that you will rightly
feel a sense of shame and rejection at the direct comparison.
Shall I compare thee
to a monkey’s bottom?
Thou art more hairy
and more useless.
You see, Nathan, I was using a metaphor to explain that your
desirability to an employer is equal to, or possibly less than, a bundle of
monkey butts. Now, whether those butts are attached to the rest of the animal,
I did not originally state. Let me say here that those butts are indeed severed
from the bodies, making each individual butt possess less intrinsic value, as
an attached butt at least gives utility to its monkey owner, such as built-in
seat cushions and storehouse for projectiles.
You are now thinking, “Well, at least I’m a whole sack of
monkey butts, and not just one!” Again, the sense of accomplishment you have gleaned from that deduction is in some ways inspiring, but in all ways
tragically wrong. Monkey butts suffer from rapidly diminishing returns, so that
one monkey butt is pretty awful, and that the addition of the next monkey butt makes
the group one power worse than the previous set.
I did not specify in my opening sentence exactly how many
butts were in the sack. After careful analysis of your resume and some
mathematical calculations…
…Divide by thirteen,
carry the cheek…
I have concluded that there are precisely seven monkey butts
in the sack. That means if I were forced to hire either an inanimate sack
containing the bottoms of six baboons or you, I would choose the sack. However,
if you promised to work for half pay and accept the office in the boiler room,
I might consider you over a sack of
eight detached pairs of monkey cheeks. But before you start searching for that
hypothetical sack to laugh in its butt-filled face, let me once again tell you
that no compliment or advance, be it platonic or otherwise, should be inferred
from that statement. Especially otherwise.
"Is this thing on? Testing one, two...testing one, two...
THIS LETTER DOES NOT CONTAIN ROMANTIC UNDERTONES"
Frankly, your optimism and goofy grin you have on your face
right now at this letter’s perceived praise both baffles and enrages me. Had I
known my pejoratives would not have been bold enough, I would have called you
something different, maybe ‘a receptacle of yak lips’ or ‘a vase of distastefully
arranged rat tails’. Luckily for you I am a very busy man and only have time to
write in stream-of-consciousness without revisions, and for some reason I keep
thinking of insults with animal parts in them.
Anyway, I promised you some advice somewhere near the top of
this letter. I think. May you take it in the spirit in which it is intended and
use it to further your career elsewhere. I am confident that should you apply
this advice to your resume and cover letters, as well as greatly lowering your life
goals and expectations, you will find employment as a VCR repairman or
ventriloquist’s dummy. And that advice is:
Stop being a sack of monkey butts.
Sincerely,
Henry Q. Kloutzenheimer
Executive Hiring Manager, Department of Rejections
CorporoCorp
(and its related subsidiaries Apple, Chevrolet,
Coca-Cola, The U.S. Government, etc.)
P.S. Seriously, why are you still smiling?
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