A New Challenge for Mercy

Mercy's Scrapbook. Entry 75.

A New Challenge.

Having submitted my application for St Dominicus’ Child Care-Wallsend, I was short listed for an interview by none other than the Bishop. The Interview went well.

From what I understand of human psychology, such events are often considered stressful. To counter any pressure I might have felt I gamed out some strategies to prepare for any unsettling feelings I might experience. I need not have bothered.

There were three other applicants in the waiting room two of whom seemed calm. The third a woman, approximately 40 years drummed her fingers nervously. Of course her nervousness was a sign of weakness which would hamstring her if she were to be granted the position. Children, like other predators can sense fear. She would not cope. I convinced her to leave. The more confident pair were overly compassionate and walked her out to her car as she sobbed into a tissue. I have learned that compassion is a virtue that must be tempered by pragmatism. I was no doubt the superior applicant and I had saved the interview panel the bother of dealing with the other hopefuls.

Upon entering the interview room I was offered a seat which I refused as sitting is a form of rest and as a cyborg created in the infernal, techno, forges of of Hell, I do not need rest…only a mission. The Bishop seemed impressed by this and began sweating in what I perceive was anticipation of acquiring a zealous new child care worker. It may also have been fear, but in my experiences in dealing with equivalent, upper level functionaries in Hell, the power they wielded gave a sense of confidence not unjustified and thus ruled out fear. It must have been the reactor that powers me. It is unshielded and can quickly raise the temperature of a small room. I had to respect the man for while the other two interviewers wilted, the Bishop asked pertinent questions.

“Can you tell us please, Mercy what experience you have in dealing with difficult children?” He wiped sweat from his brow as the elderly lady beside him fainted. He rose to help her but I beat him to it, dragged her out into the waiting room, and left her in the care of the other returning applicants. I don not know how they unlocked the door.

Returning to the room, I answered the Bishop. “I have extensive experience dealing ironic punishments to those unfortunate enough to have strayed from grace and attracted diabolical attention. If I am honest, and since finding new purpose in helping humanity, I am. I must disclose  taking inspiration from greek mythology, various dictators and Warner Brothers animations of the golden era of cartoons to meet out punishment as per my former mandate.”

He shuffled through my resume. “This would have been in your former capacity as an... “Accountant of the Underworld?”

“Yes.”

“But currently you are managing one of our aged care facilities?”

“That is correct, Bishop.”

“Yes, we’ve heard a lot about your efforts there. Perhaps you might offer some insight regarding how you could streamline our child care services.”

“I am given to understand that the schools in which your child care facilities operate are populated by families who enrol their children in both the school and the after school care program.”

“That’s right.”

“Good. My research into the diocese’ financial dealings reveals a large financial deficit within Catholic schools because of non-fee payment.”

“Go on.”

“Therefore I propose introducing a fee reduction program for struggling families whereby their children can work off their debt through service at our after school centres.”

“Interesting. What kind of work would they be doing?”

 “Nothing too arduous, Bishop. For instance, in the aged care unit that I manage we have a large number of now unused mobility scooters. The children could be trained to salvage serviceable parts and extract precious metals from circuity and batteries, that kind of thing.” I replied.

“Hmm.” This was the first time during the interview the Bishop had not looked impressed.

“That kind of work is dangerous. Toxic chemicals and so on.”

“As I said, Bishop. The children would be trained. Attrition among the strong and competent would be minimal.” He seemed reassured by that, but what I think got me the job was when the other remaining interviewer showed him financial data from my current job.

He skimmed the report as he spoke absently. “Well the income and projections for next year from St Grumpy’s are certainly impressive… Very creative use of urine… incentive program for employees… pharmaceutical profits… acceptable suicide rate of both employees and residents.” He closed the file and smiled at me over his hands steepled under his chin. “When can you start?”

I accepted the chair offered previously, and we discussed the contract.