The head honcho of the Corporation of Evil was not what Dave expected. Honestly, he didn’t know what he had expected someone like Weasel perhaps? He wasn’t like that at all. First of all, he was a she and she was a plump girl who to be about twelve to Dave but was probably sixteen with a mouth full of braces, curly brown hair, little red splotches all over and a white strip spread across her button nose.  She wore khaki pants and a pale green polo with a name tag that proclaimed that her name was Molly.

The girl glared at him. “I said come in. Seriously are you deaf or something?”

Dave stopped gawking and stepped into the room.

“Take a seat.”

Dave looked dubiously down at the circular chair covered in hot pink fur that was too close to the ground for his liking. “I’m good.”

Molly drummed white painted fingernails on the top of her desk. “Sit.”

Dave sat the frame of the low chair contorting around his ample frame. The girl’s gaze flitted to Warthog who had followed Dave into the room. “Did you get it?”

Warthog lifted the silver suitcase that still hung from his cuffed wrist. “Yes Boss.” He pulled a small key out of his vest pocket freed himself from his rectangular reticule. He placed the case on the desk in front of the girl and handed her its key.

“And you’re sure they all signed it?”

Warthog grunted.

Molly flipped open the case and pulled out a rolled document that looked suspiciously like a poster. Her watery eyes filled with glee. “Hang it over there.”

“Do you want me to use that tacky stuff or scotch tape?”

“Scotch tape is fine.”

Warthog hung the poster of seven Asian teens wearing suits and making peace signs. Signatures obscured some of the boys’ faces. It fit in well with the other signed posters of young men who Dave assumed were some kind of performers.

Molly steepled her fingers. “So, accountant,” Dave’s attention snapped back to the girl, “are you done doing things with numbers yet?”

Dave blinked. “Are you serious?”

“I’m always serious. This is what you do isn’t it? Can’t you just crunch numbers really fast or something and like make everything make sense?”

“Umm, have you ever taken a math class?”

Molly’s indignant sniff was under-minded by the zit pad across her nose. “Of course I have. Which is why I know I’d rather have you do all the number crunching for me. Which reminds me once you’re done with all the tax stuff I need you to do my algebra homework.”

Dave shook his head. “You can’t expect me to do your homework too.”

“My regular homework flunky has mono so she’s completely useless. You’ll have to do. So, since I’m assuming you’re not done with the tax stuff how long do you think it’s gonna take?”

“I’ve only glanced at the files so far, but I’d estimate I could have it all sorted out in a matter of weeks.”

“Weeks! You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I might be able to go faster if I had more resources to work with.”

Molly’s glare turned on Warthog. The big guy cowered.

Ridiculous, Dave thought not for the first time that day. Utterly ridiculous.

“I told you to give the number cruncher a computer.”

“I thought you said not to give the guy a computer.”

Molly pinched her nose much like one of Dave’s English teachers from his own high school days used to do when she was getting a headache. “Get the guy a computer.”

“Yes boss, right away,” Warthog hunched his way out of the room.

“In the meantime, start with the algebra. Here,” she flung a hard square of hot pink plastic at him, “I’ll even let you use my calculator.”

Dave didn’t move. “And if I don’t?”

“You said you glanced at the files I gave you?”

“Yes.”

“Then you know what I’m capable of and what I can do.”

She pulled the black head removing pad in one swift rip. “Allow me to escort you to your new office… I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name.”

“Dave.”

“Dave. Welcome to the company. We’re so happy to have you on board.”