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Zach

There are plenty of booths at the job fair, but only MAYHEM INCORPORATED has Ray-Bans and Tasers snarling at anyone who approaches. Consequently it also has by far the longest line of curious students.

Zach didn’t mean to join it; he thought the line led to the bathroom.

“Puny,” snarls Littleford, kicking his legs under the table. “Next. ROTC? Are you kidding me? Next. Next. Next!”

Zach finds himself at the front and automatically hands over a resume. Littleford glances at his name.

“You make websites, kid?” he snaps.

Zach blinks. “My computer has FrontPage.”

Littleford smiles like the Grinch.

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