A Little Bit Of Mole Envy

Clark and I had a little chat post 'Stanford Student' interview at the Mole Fair ...

"I'm not so sure about this 'Stanford Student' ..." I noted after the applicant left.

Clark was shuffling paperwork, the applicant's resume and other necessaries for tax information and putting it in a file for later use. "Why not? He seems capable enough."

"I just don't see where he'll be of any use. He'll be languishing on the payroll, sitting around waiting for our call ..."

"So? It's not like he'll be hanging out at The Unbelieva-Base. You know moles aren't allowed there. Why the concern?"

"Well ... it's just that ..."

"What?"

"Well, his 'claimed abilities.' I mean ... I'm irreverent. I've got a playful-yet-sarcastically-biting lack of respect for authority. I'm even kinda funny under the right circumstances. Under a ton of circumstances ... and you know that."

"Funny looking, maybe ..."

"What? Hardly?.Who's got the combined good looks of Ian McShane and a young Cliff Robertson, huh? This guy ... that's who." I thumbed my thumb my way, boastfully.

My uncanny resemblance to Cliff Robertson and Ian McShane is ... well, uncanny.

Clark looked at me sternly. "Oh. My. Gosh. You're jealous, aren't you? You're jealous of a newly hired mole we're not even certain we're going to use in the field! Come on! What ... you think we'd ever pit you or compare your credentials and character against any of the hired help? Hell no! No way! We're a team, the three of us! You, Jeff and me. That's never going to change! Truth be told, I just liked the ungapotchkin the dude's got. You've got to give it up to a guy who looks like a crooked Christmas tree with marshmallow eyes and Botox-infused lips who calls himself 'Stanford Student.' Am I right?" 

Clark bowed his head and looked me straight in the eye.

"Am I right ... ???"

"I guess ..." I conceded.

"Good. And look: How many villains do you really think are going to pop up with roots at Cal or Iowa where we can employ the guy? Besides, the contract he signed has him working on commission anyway, so our financial obligation is practically nil. That should cheer you up ..."

Clark had a point there.

"Now, I don't want to hear any more whining about him. Got it?"

"Ooooooooooooooookay ..." I conceded.

"Good. We're done here anyway. Let's vamoose. Hey ... you know what will cheer you up? A good old fashioned game of nude volleyball, just you and me and eight Unbelieva-Babes. We'll be captains! Whaddaya say ... ?!?"

Clark sure knows how to turn a frown upside down, you know?