Absolutely — here’s a **darkly comic, slightly surreal job interview scene** featuring *Gargamel Golomb*, doing what he does best: overcompensating, improvising, and lying through his teeth, barely concealing desperation.
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## **Scene: "Position of Influence"**
*Location: A mid-range corporate office building in suburban Ohio. Present day Earth.*
**Characters:**
* **Gargamel Golomb** – Chrono-fugitive, techless, broke, and stranded. Dressed in a badly fitted suit he borrowed from a dry cleaner's rack. Hair slicked back with what appears to be motor oil.
* **Susan Wetherby** – Regional HR Director, mildly exhausted but professional. Has seen worse.
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**INT. CORPORATE OFFICE – DAY**
*A glass-walled interview room. Gargamel Golomb sits across from Susan Wetherby. A sad little plant droops on the windowsill. Gargamel smiles like a cat that forgot what prey is.*
**SUSAN:**
So, Mr. Golomb… Gargamel, is it?
**GARGAMEL (leaning in):**
You may call me "Executive Grandpath of Quadrant Resource Entitlements," but yes. Gargamel is fine.
**SUSAN (blinks):**
...Right. Well, thanks for coming in. Let's start with your resume — I noticed some unusual formatting. It says here you were the “Supreme Efficiency Architect of Terra Protocols” on... *"Planet Designation 003B – Indigenous Simulation Sector.”*
**GARGAMEL (nodding solemnly):**
Yes. Earth, as you know it, is a Class-4 Simulation Zone. I was sent here as part of an interstellar audit. Unfortunately, I arrived ahead of schedule. A few centuries early, give or take.
**SUSAN:**
...So you’re saying you’re from the future?
**GARGAMEL:**
No, no. *A* future. **One** of them. The exact location of my original temporal node is—well, it’s classified, of course. But suffice it to say, I’ve overseen more interstellar mergers than your species has teeth.
**SUSAN:**
Uh-huh. So what drew you to apply for a *logistics coordinator* position at Midwest Climate-Controlled Storage?
**GARGAMEL (smoothly):**
Ah, yes. Strategic containment of volatile assets. Asset management across temperature-regulated nodes. Frankly, it’s all very familiar. In 2399-Q, I once supervised the cryo-vaults of the extinct Martian royal family.
**SUSAN (deadpan):**
And how long were you in that position?
**GARGAMEL (without missing a beat):**
Three subjective eternities. And a week.
**SUSAN:**
...I see.
*She glances down at his application. Notices that under “References,” he wrote: “All have been vaporized for security reasons.”*
**SUSAN:**
So, uh… do you currently have reliable transportation?
**GARGAMEL (straightens):**
Only temporarily misplaced. My quantum insertion pod was eaten by a cow. It’s complicated.
**SUSAN:**
Do you have any criminal history?
**GARGAMEL:**
Only glorious, unproven accusations launched by politically motivated sub-chronarchies. None of it sticks in a non-linear tribunal.
**SUSAN (after a long pause):**
Okay, well... We’ll be in touch.
**GARGAMEL (quickly):**
I can pay you in secrets. Do you want to know how the moon works? It’s not what you think.
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**LATER (Susan, writing her notes):**
*"Applicant claims to be a multi-dimensional executive exiled by galactic powers. May have been living in a van behind the Arby’s. Strong improvisation skills, unclear grasp of reality. Hire for seasonal work only."*
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Would you like to see *Petra Golomb’s* interview next? Or perhaps a **recorded incident log** from someone who hired Gargamel… and lived to regret it?
