I am writing to you today, as you can plainly see by the words that you are reading in front of you. The reason for my writing is that I am interested in the job you’re offering. I have always dreamed of becoming an “Operations Operative”, and in no way do I believe that this is a fancy term for a general dogsbody.
I have plenty of experience as an “Operations Operative” in that I regularly undertake operations. I am skilled at removing a client’s gall bladder in a back alley in exchange for cash. I am adept at moving these organs around on the white market, the completely legitimate counterpart legal market upon which many legal items are bought and sold legally.
I am also very used to having operations done on me, and I have a remarkable recovery rate from some of the most ridiculous injuries in human history. In fact, I hold the record for most number of appearances on The Planet’s Funniest Penguin Maulings. Just last month I was injured whilst trying to fence a swordfish. To be fair though, his brother, a hammerhead shark named Graham, did a terrible job on my nanna’s loft conversion and I was merely exacting revenge. He had a distinct advantage though because those flimsy fencing swords don’t slice through the water very easily.
Anyway, I have a unique skillset that would make me an ideal candidate for this position. I can hold my breath for over 40 seconds, I can blink faster than anyone I know, and my fingers are double-jointed which makes them incredibly pliable. This is not a result of inbreeding, as was suggested to me by my childhood friends, but is a result of being superhuman. I am the next stage in human evolution, which is something you can use to bolster your Equal Opportunities portfolio.
|This is a picture of me doing an interview.|
If you are still in doubt, please find attached a list of references. The first one is from my old boss who described me as “(un)forgettable”, and the second is a quote from my own mother (who knows me better than that?) who described me as “Not a thoroughly awful person”. That happens to be the nicest thing she’s ever said about anyone. Previously she had described our postman as “crustier than a wank sock”, so you can see how complimentary she can be.
If you do hire me for the position, please bear in mind that I will require early access to the office in order to practice my yoga stretches. My mother doesn’t let me do them at home because it offends her, so I will need a key to the office and the alarm code. My favourite position, the “Bare Hamster”, involves squatting nude over a working photocopier, so you might want to give a heads up to the cleaner or something. I also find it difficult to start the day without having a daily office party. Flat lager and sweat-stained clothes is the perfect pick-me-up, much better than a greasy fry up.
As you can tell from my application I am overly qualified for this position. In fact, I’d wager that I could quite easily slot into the role of a rocket surgeon or a brain scientist, but I thought I’d slum it with you guys. You should feel privileged to have someone like me on board. I await your response and paycheques.