#1: Godspower Jones

It was the point in the job interview that he dreaded. The part where the manager looked at his application.

"Hmm," the man looked up at him. Then back to the resume. "Godspower, huh?"

"That's right," Godspower said. He had been to a lot of these interviews since Michelle left. She took her money with her when she slammed the door behind her, narrowly missing the opportunity to catch her long, blond hair in the door.

And Godspower hadn't needed a job himself since college. And the past three months of interviews have been a total pain in the ass. Mainly because of his name.

"That's quite a name," the manager said. A half-eaten sandwitch was sitting on his desk, tomatoes spilling out within inches of the keyboard of his computer. Disgusting.

"Yes, it is," Godspower said.

"Just this morning, I said your name. Kind of. I turned on the light, and the dog just slept there, and I said to my girlfriend, 'Can you believe that dogs aren't impressed by our god-like power of turning on lights?' But she wasn't impressed either, you know?"

"Right."

"And is it..."

"It's my real name."

"That was my next question." The manager made one of those thumb-finger-shooting-gun motions at Godspower, knocking over a picture frame in the process. The picture, upside down, was mostly filled with long blond hair. Michelle was staring back at him.

The rest of the manager's words just faded away like the recession of waves on white sand.


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