Commissioner's Office Interlude - The Interviews

 Commissioner's Office Interlude – The Interviews

Scene: NPCW Commissioner’s Office

The room is filled with the weight of responsibility and mild exhaustion. Commissioner Bob Cratchit, looking as worn out as ever, slouches slightly in his chair, his ever-growing stack of paperwork threatening to swallow his desk whole. Beside him sits Ebenezer Scrooge, Special Advisor to the Commissioner and the grumpiest man in NPCW, arms crossed, scowling at the mere existence of this meeting. Fenwick Grimbough, Administrator of Rules and Regulations, sits studiously, flipping through the NPCW handbook as if it holds the answers to life itself. Ms. Sweetins, recently promoted Executive General Manager of the Women’s Division, sits opposite them, radiating quiet authority as she struggles to keep the meeting moving forward.

Ms. Sweetins

Ms. Sweetins clears her throat. “I know you don’t want to be doing this, Mr. Scrooge, but with my promotion, I can’t also serve as the Commissioner’s Executive Assistant. The office needs a new assistant to help both Commissioner Cratchit and myself with our duties.”

Scrooge and Cratchit

Scrooge grimaces, sinking deeper into his chair like a petulant child forced to eat his vegetables.

Ms. Sweetins continues, “To make this easier, I’ve narrowed it down to three possible candidates. We’ll interview each and decide on the best one.”

Cratchit nods weakly, grateful for Sweetins’ efficiency. “Thank you, Ms. Sweetins, for doing the preliminary reviews—”

Scrooge immediately interrupts, leaning forward as if suddenly very invested. “I’m not sure about this, Sweetins. I think I—er, the Commissioner—should have the final say. They’ll be working closely in this office, after all.”

Cratchit sighs deeply, rubbing his temples as if he can already feel the migraine coming. Ms. Sweetins simply raises an eyebrow. “Fine, Mr. Scrooge. You interview the candidates, and I’ll accept whichever one you find acceptable.”

Scrooge grins, rubbing his hands together. “Excellent decision, Ms. Sweetins. Well then, let’s get this show on the road. Send in the first candidate.”

Candidate 1: Tilda Thimblewhistle

Tilda Thimblewhistle

The door swings open, and in marches Tilda Thimblewhistle, a tiny but fierce woman with perfect posture, a clipboard seemingly glued to her hand, and a bun so tight it could deflect bullets. She moves with military precision, eyes scanning the room like she’s already taking notes for an internal report.

Cratchit, tired but professional, begins. “This job requires discretion and diplomacy. How do you handle sensitive information?”

Tilda straightens her glasses. “I’ve kept secrets from spiders, goblins, and my own family. Your office drama? Piece of pie. I lock lips tighter than a treasure chest.”

Scrooge raises a brow, intrigued. “Why do you want this position?”

Tilda leans forward, voice firm. “Because I’m done being underestimated. I want to prove a girl with grit and a rolled-up sleeve can do more than just mind the teacart.”

Cratchit, mildly amused, asks his final question. “Can you handle the stress and unpredictability of the NPCW?”

Tilda smirks, adjusting her clipboard like it’s a weapon. “Sir, I’ve wrangled ogres, dodged poisoned crumpets, and once punched a troll over a lunch tray. Try me.”

The room is silent for a long moment.

Scrooge mutters, “…You punched a troll over a lunch tray?”

Tilda nods solemnly. “He was hogging the pumpkin rolls.”

Fenwick Grimbough very slowly writes something in his NPCW handbook.

Fenwick Grimbough

Candidate 2: Buttons the Butler Elf

Buttons The Butler Elf

Next, Buttons the Butler Elf enters the office, his tiny frame wrapped in a pristine but far-too-large vest, his pointy ears twitching with nerves. He clutches a folder, as though he’s worried it might escape.

Cratchit, doing his best to sound encouraging, asks the first question. “This job requires discretion and diplomacy. How do you handle sensitive information?”

Buttons nods rapidly. “I’m very good at whispering... to myself. No one hears me anyway! Unless it’s Flippers—he’s got clearance.”

Scrooge narrows his eyes. “…Who?”

Buttons blinks innocently. “Flippers. Mason’s emotional support penguin. You haven’t met him? I assumed he’d be here, honestly.”

Ms. Sweetins clears her throat, swiftly moving on.

Scrooge, grumpy but curious, asks, “Why do you want this position?”

Buttons fidgets with his vest buttons. “Ms. Sweetins told me I’d get snacks, a badge, and my own mug. Also, I think I may have accidentally been hired while looking for lost penguins.”

Cratchit rubs his temples. “Can you handle the stress and unpredictability of the NPCW?”

Buttons laughs nervously, voice almost a squeak. “Sometimes I cry in the janitor’s closet, but it’s okay—Flippers sings to me. I’m fine. Totally fine. Let’s do this.”

Everyone slowly turns to Ms. Sweetins.

She just shrugs.

Candidate 3: Wink the Gnome Assistant

Wink Woosley

Finally, Wink the Gnome saunters in, smiling slyly, dressed in suspenders and a tiny bowler hat that he tilts dramatically upon entering. His clipboard is enchanted, his briefcase charmed, and every movement suggests he already knows more about this office than he should.

Cratchit, bracing himself, asks, “This job requires discretion and diplomacy. How do you handle sensitive information?”

Wink grins. “I transcribe everything in invisible ink and store it under enchantment. If someone tries to read my notes uninvited, they get turned into a memo. Literally.”

Scrooge, suspicious, squints. “Why do you want this position?”

Wink adjusts his bowler hat. “Oh, no real reason. I just happen to be very invested in the… inner workings of this operation. Very curious what’s really behind those locked drawers.”

Cratchit sets down his pen, suddenly far more awake than before. “…Locked drawers?”

Ms. Sweetins sighs deeply.

Scrooge asks the final question. “Can you handle the stress and unpredictability of the NPCW?”

Wink laughs. “Stress? I live for chaos. I iron my shirts with lightning bolts. Besides, I installed a charm in your calendar that schedules naps you didn’t even know you needed.”

Cratchit lifts his phone and checks his calendar.

There is, in fact, a nap scheduled for 3:15 PM.

Final Decision

Scrooge stares at the three candidates in silence, tapping his fingers against the desk.

Cratchit, exhausted, murmurs, “So… which one, Mr. Scrooge?”

Scrooge ponders deeply, then grumbles, “…We’ll take Tilda.”

Tilda straightens her clipboard triumphantly, while Buttons looks relieved and Wink grins knowingly, bowler hat tilted just so.

Ms. Sweetins smiles, closing her folder. “Good choice, Mr. Scrooge.”

Scrooge huffs, muttering under his breath.

Cratchit already has that nap scheduled circled in red.