Wednesday reapplied her sickeningly red lipstick before intercepting the man. “Are you here about the ad?” She asked with a smile.
“Yes. Am I supposed to speak with you?” The man shifted uneasily as his hard-bottomed shoes clicked on the floor.
“Of course, I’m Ms. Thomas. Mr. Richards consultant,” she lied.
“Milton Milds,” he stuck out his hand stoutly, which Wednesday shook.
“Are you at all familiar with Burt’s work?”
“Quite a bit, actually. I have a scrapbook of all the newspapers he was written up in!” Wednesday scowled. You sick little man.
“Brilliant. If you would step into my office?” They moved to a small enclosed room just left of the elevator. “We’re all required to… be a little skilled.” Wednesday produced a small flower. She snapped her fingers, and the flower changed to a rope in her hand. “Some more than others.” She wrapped Milton in the rope before stuffing him in the dumbwaiter. “The position has been filled!” Wednesday cried after him with a giggle.