After what seemed to be a wild goose chase, Davids search for a job had finally come to an end. Ron, the head of this small import/export company, came up to David and welcomed him with a hearty handshake "David! Good to see you, I'm so glad you chose to take our offer." David smiled and didn't say anything. He didn't want Ron to know that this was the only job he was offered.

"So what exactly will I be doing?" said David.

"Well Dave, can I call you Dave?"

"Yeah."

"Dave, I'm sure you noticed that the screening process to work here was very thorough. You had to pass 3 different personality tests and go through 4 interviews including one given by a robot."

"Yeah, I thought it was a bit much for just a data entry position."

"Well, thats the thing Dave. Its not just data entry. Dave...we're midget smugglers." Ron took a beat to let that sink in.

"Wait, what??"

"We're midget smugglers. We smuggle midgets. All those tests were to make sure you would be ok with the fact that our main product is midgets. Sure we have other, more legitimate ventures, but--"

"Wait a minute, wait a minute. I thought midget smuggling was just a euphemism for a girl with really big tits."

"Well, you were wrong," Ron pushed a button on the wall and spoke into it. "Sarah, please send Mr.McCarthy in here. What you thought was a euphemism for big tits was actually originated by my grandfather as a sort of disinformation campaign to steer people away from us." David looked around and noticed an very old man entering the room. "Ah, Mr.McCarthy," said Ron, "David, I would like you to meet Joseph McCarthy. He is the companys archivist and current team leader on all things distractionary."

Mr.McCarthy handed David a pamphlet. "That has everything you need to know about us, for now. Read it, then eat it," he said then left.

"Umm, he has a tendency to be a bit dramatic. You dont really have to eat the note. I mean if you want to, go ahead. Who are we to judge? We smuggle midgets."