PACHELBEL’S PILOT - I.c.

Four large tables, arranged meticulously, dominated the room.

Comfortable-looking couches flank the tables, creating an inviting atmosphere. Low-profile video screens hover above each section, showcasing scenes from recruitment videos to inspirational posters. Despite the normalcy, every surface was cluttered with piles of documents, creating an organized chaos.

Mr. Jones was flanked by a woman, presumably another employer, armed and ready to conduct the evaluation. He shot Eric a glance, flashing a charismatic smile.

Impeccably dressed in black slacks, a white shirt, and a dark blue blazer, the ‘grizzled veteran’ stood at 5 feet tall. His calm expression mirrors his age, somewhere between mid 30s to late 30s. He flashed her pearly whites, a gesture likely intended to soothe Eric as he offered a hand.

"Hello there! I'm Mister Jones, and this is my assistant, Miss Smith."

“Hi, how's it going? It's good to meet you both.” Eric amicably shook back before they took their respective seats.

"Would you like some coffee or tea?" Miss Smith sauntered, handling a polished tray.

"No, thank you. I've had my fill already." He raised a hand up, politely declining the offer before giving her a curt nod, his face still sporting a smile.

"No need to look so tense. This is not an interrogation," Jones tried to put him at ease with a smile, holding a file before him. "So, Mister.... Rogers, what brings you here today?"

"Well, I was hoping to get a chance to talk with you guys about your company, and maybe work for you if possible!"

Smith began playing good cop. "That sounds great! We'd love to hear more about yourself."

"Great! So, I guess I should start off by telling you why I want to work for you specifically… OH! Speaking of which- where exactly... are my manners? My name is Eric Rogers, riding off the coattails of a certain grad life, but it might as well've been a sad life- given that I'm currently one-two pences off of the job market. My pleasure to meet you both! My apologies for the audacity, if I may."

Jones laughed. "Oh no, not at all! We're just happy to have someone with such- ‘AMBITION’. And I do mean 'ambition.' Ambition is a trait I value highly in an employee, especially someone who's willing to work hard."

Smith began pulling out a slim-thin laptop. "Sounds good. How about we start with some simple questions?"

Eric confidently took a seat, palms clasped together, ready to engage.

"Shoot."

Jones leaned forth. "Alright then, let's go. What's your favorite color?"

Eric responded with a nonchalant shrug. "Uhh, yellow."

"What's your favorite animal?"

"Um, dogs."

"What's your favorite food?"

"Fish and chips, but I'm not picky."

The lady chimed in with a playful question.

"What's your favorite movie?"

"EnviroMate." Eric couldn't help but act coy.

Jones issued a challenge, waving the assistant off. "So, Mister Rogers, can you come in if the H.I.A. is attacking and you need to put an end to it?"

Eric, unflinching, responded to Jones with precision. "I'm sorry, but do you mean that if this agency is under attack, I will continue my duties if need be? If so, I'll gladly assist under the line of fire."

“Well... That's a risky gamble. But if you're confident in your abilities, then I suppose I can take a chance. Now, Mister Rogers, where did you study?”

“Michigan State.”

“Tell me, do you have any powers or abilities?”

The million-dollar question.

Eric had a confident smirk as he hand-waved the notion. "Nope. But if I did have the ability to fly or something like that... I'd definitely be on your payroll already!"

His attempt at humor fell flat, leaving an awkward pause.

"I.... I have no 'superpowers' to speak of that's suitable for crime-fighting, but I do have a knack for analysis and coordination skills that's just right for the job. It might not make me an exceptional "brawler" or anything of the sort, but I am good at putting my thoughts into action and following through."

Setting the physical documents aside, Jones slammed his palms against the table.

"Why do you want to be a superhero consultant?"

The air went still.

"Wow." Eric sniffled, contemplating the question with head tilt.

"...I always believed that, if a tree were falling on a person, a simple act like holding out a hand is what saves the day. Helping people is heroic, no matter who you are, and- I wanted to help. Giving out hope and a chance to find the time and place to save his fellow man from something a normal person isn't able to deal with!"

Silence pervaded the space once more.

"It's true, these lines blur on a daily basis. In sum, if you hire me, I will do my best for H. I. and 'A'- this agency that brings out the best not just for this prosperous country, but for the world.”

Miss Smith waved with a ballpoint pen. "Alright... Well, Mister Rogers? I believe we're done here, but-"

"Uhhh... Oh... I don't know what to say. Thank you so much for your time, truly."

Jones pulled his chair, meeting Eric in the eye while shaking hands once more.

"I think we can work something out. So, we have a deal. You'll join us at H.I.A."