Two interviews down, 423 to go. Starting

Two interviews down, 423 to go. Starting a company as a multi-trilionaire was much easier than the scrappy mess he started in his garage 23 years ago. This time, he vowed,

he wouldn't trade 51% of his company to Mia for a pack of fruit snacks. He was an adult in a suit. "Welcome, Ms. Horowitz. Our vacant post of Office Prankster needs someone of your

perfume-laden hugs." Boy that was the ticket. Everyone who Ms. Horowitz hugged smelled like they'd bathed in rose water. It was like Old Lady territorial marking.

Which was quaint -- for a while. But the scent never washed off, and couldn't be disguised by other seemingly overpowering odors. Brut. Axe. Lysol. Myrrh. Axe Plus. Ms. Horowitz

scrunched up her nose behind her hand & pretended to cough. Oh God, the stench! Attempting to create some distance between herself & the offensive smell, Ms. Horowitz hurried out

side and gagged. The smell was still there, just as overpowering. Mercy, it seemed to be following her! Panicked now, Ms. Horowitz ran to her car and caught her reflection in the

the silvered windows. That's when she saw it nestled in her beehive hairdoo. Ms. Horowitz felt faint with the realization that the decrepid beast inhabiting her

hair was none other than Smegma, the most disgusting of all infestations. Ms. Horowitz screamed & ran into the restroom, clawing at her beehive & crying. Smegma snickered & hopped

up and down, happy to make its home in Ms. Horowitz' beehive. Yet I was forsworn to protect her beehive from wandering gelatinous critters with weird names, so I

grabbed some re-enforced diamond plates to encase the beehive with. I was fairly pleased with the job I had done. Now nothing can get in and hurt the bees.