M.Y.T.H. Inc. Link By Robert Asprin

My explanations can be very convincing, as any jury can tell you, and the foreman decides to accept this one without question, somehow overlookin’ the fact that I had helped the Mouth to his feet with such enthusiasm that his feet were not touchin’ the floor when the proceedin’s were halted. Perhaps he attributed this phenomenon to the Pixie Dust which was so fond of levitatin’ anything in the plant that wasn’t tied down. Whatever the reason, he buys the story and wanders off, leavin’ me to share my lunch with my two colleagues whose lunch has somehow gotten tromped on during playtime.

Apparently, my display of masculine-type prowess has convinced everyone that I am indeed not a company spy, for the two guys which jumped me in such an unprofessional manner is now very eager to chat on the friendliest of terms. The one I have been referrin’ to as the Mouth turns out to be named Roxie, and his chairswingin’ buddy is Sion. Right away we hit it off as they seem to be regular-type guys, even if they can’t throw a punch to save their own skins, and it’ seems we share a lot of common interests . . . like skirts and an occasional bet on the ponies. Of course, they are immediately advanced to the top of my list of suspects, as anyone who thinks like me is also likely to have little regard for respectin’ the privacy rights of other people’s property.

The other thing they tell me before we return to our respective tasks is that the Pixie Dust job I am doin’ is really a chump chore reserved for new worker types what don’t know enough to argue with their assignments. It is suggested that I have a few words with the foreman, as he has obviously been impressed with my demeanor, and see if I can’t get some work more in keepin’ with my obvious talents. I am naturally grateful for this advice, and pursue their suggestion without further delay.