Intern Part 2

The chair sat empty. And for that, Desi was glad.

Ever since Trevor caught a cold and was killed in a horrific trash compactor incident, Desi's life had improved. The hotline training would go well, this she felt sure of, but without the added headache of Trevor, it would go better than well, it would go super awesome. Her close friend and confidant, Linda agreed, and said, “I am glad Trevor is not here. He was awful. And his nose was always running and dripping snot all over everything.”

“Yes,” I agree, said Desi, adjusting her glasses, “It was an act of mercy that that garbage truck ate him.”

The prospective volunteers had already started to file in. Some old, some young, mostly dressed in sweat pants, for what reason, she could not say, but then she remembered why. Trevor had edited the flier to encourage comfortable wear. This was another bad thing he had done. His reasoning had been that since the meeting would take so long, it be better that everyone be comfortable as possible.

One woman had arrived in only her panties. She was asked to leave.

Suddenly, a great crash was heard not far from their building. She looked out the window, and saw that one of the homes was ablaze. Not wasting any time, she rushed outside, having never seen a house on fire before.

Outside, Desi, Linda, and the rest of the group stood staring in awe at the flaming home. The roof had an enormous gash where it seemed a large meteor had come crashing through. Just as Desi was about to comment on this, the door opened, and out of the flaming house stepped none other than Trevor himself!

Desi gasped. Linda ran screaming.

“Hello, Desi,” said Trevor.

“Trevor?” asked Desi, afraid for her life, her shaking fists clenched, ready to do him in for the second time if she had to.

“No, it is not Trevor. I am Tyrone. Trevor was a douche bag doppelganger with a bad cold. I have come from far off to rid the world of him. Please, point me in his direction.”

“Oh,” said Desi. “Well, you came all this way for nothing.”

“How is that?”

“Trevor is dead.”

“Oh,” said Tyrone, scratching his bald head. “Darn.”

“But we have an opening for an intern, and if you are truly the better half, then we would be glad to have you.”

“Okay,” said Tyrone.