Mr. Bean seeks Employment

Writing 11

Emma McKenzie

Mr. Bean was feeling very optimistic on the morning of his meeting with the employment agency. He got out of bed, straightening his pinstriped pajamas and sleeping cap, before he marched to the bathroom.

He stood in front of his small square mirror, and analyzed his appearance. He snarled at his reflection, inspecting his teeth. They were far to yellow for his liking. He picked up his toothbrush and bottle of toothpaste and attempted to squeeze the last morsel of sugary teeth whitening goodness on to his toothbrush. He used his muscles, and great wit, but only managed to scrape his elbow on the sink faucet, knock all of his toiletries to the bathroom floor, and promptly fall into the bathtub, dismantling the shower curtain on the way down.

He sat grunting and mumbling, in his bath tub, still holding his tooth brush. He flailed and kicked his long pin-striped legs, struggling to escape the clutches of the Mr. Bean eating tub.

When he finally managed to free himself, he jumped and down in joy, his toothbrush soaring from his hand to land in the toilet. Mr. Bean's arms fell to his sides, as his smile turned into a pouty frown, and he grumbled, as he stepped sideways to stand in front of the toilet. Mr. Bean had a very small bathroom.

He tapped his finger against his chin, in thought. How was he to brush his teeth for his interview? He turned around to snarl at his reflection in the mirror again. His teeth were still yellow. He frowned at himself, and continued to tap his finger against his chin.

He was thinking. He opened the mirror to reveal a hidden medicine cabinet, and scanned the various bottles of pills, mouthwash, things of floss, and tweezers. He snarled and pouted, throwing his hands up in disgust. There was absolutely nothing to help him in this predicament.

He turned around to face the toilet again, his back to the medicine cabinet. He reached down and flushed the toilet, waving to his toothbrush, as he watched it spiraled around and around in the toilet water, but it didn't disappear. He flushed the toilet again, and again, the water in the toilet rising higher and higher. Infuriated, he pulled back his foot and kicked the toilet, which only resulted in him jumping up and down holding his foot in pain.

He hopped out of the bathroom and fell to his bedroom floor, his arms and legs splayed out like a washed up starfish. He stared up at his wall clock, admiring it. Suddenly, he sat up in realization of the time. It was nine 0'clock! He had exactly fifteen minutes to get to the interview. He ran out of his apartment, grabbing his car keys on the way. His bare feet slapped against the concrete stairs as he made his way to his car on the street.

Still in his pj's, his nightcap lost somewhere on the stairs, he fumbled with his keys, as he struggled to unlock his car. When he finally heard the lock click, a gleeful sneer spread across his face, as he threw the padlock behind him on to the sidewalk, which managed hit a man squarely in the face. The man began to come after Mr. Bean as he lurked his car into drive and sped off toward his job interview.

Mr. Bean watched the man in his rear-view mirror, thoroughly confused as to why he was running after him. He mumbled and grumbled, shacking his fist, mocking the man, and stepped on the gas, leaving the angry man in a cloud of exhaust fumes.

When he finally reached the office building of his interview, he screeched into a parking space, flung open his car door, and ran into the building, passed the protesting receptionist, and into the elevator where a crowd of men in suits glared at Mr. Bean in his pajamas. He smiled at them, trying to act natural. He rocked back and forth on to his bare heals, his hands clasped behind hid back, as he stole quick glances at the straight stared, straight backed, business men. Were they all here for the job interview?

He started to get nervous now, his palms becoming clammy, the collar of his pajamas feeling suddenly too tight. The elevator walls were slowly closing in on him. He started hyperventilating, his knees shacking uncontrollably. The business men all turned to gawk at him, against their better judgement, and all shuffled away from him to the other side of the elevator, some mumbling about calling security.

cried out with relief, as the elevator doors finally pulled themselves apart, and he scurried out into a carpeted hallway, where black cushioned chairs lined the walls. He plopped himself in the chair closest to the door of the interview with a smug smile on his pale face. He would be the first to be interviewed and set the standard for those who would try to follow him.

He crossed his legs, and made himself comfortable, unsure how long he would have to wait. The business men all took a seat, placing bags and briefcases on the floor next to them. A man in a dark blue suit and a bright green tie, took the seat across from Mr. Bean, on the other side of the hall. He pulled a large black laptop from his bag, and slowly opened the screen. The computer hummed to life at the push of a button, and a loud "dung!" sound. was very intrigued, and set both of his feet squarely on the ground, leaning forward to watch the man tap-tapping away on the key board. The man looked up at , giving him a stern frown, and quickly averted his eyes back to his computer screen, hunching down to hide behind it.

had just opened his mouth to ask the man about his portable electronic contraption, when the elevator doors opened, and a very large man stepped out of the elevator into the hallway. 's eyebrows shot up as he read the word, "SECURITY," typed across his chest and back. Keys jingled at his hip, as he walked over to talk to the man sitting in the chair closest to the elevator. The man nodded at the security guard and pointed down the hall in Mr. Bean's direction. Mr. Bean turned his head to the right to see who the man was pointing at, but their was no one there, only a grey door with a pulsing red exit sign above it at the end of the hall. He sighed and sunk into his chair, closing his eyes, he was probably just looking for the exit.

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to come with me." 's eyes fluttered open, to see the security guard standing in front of him. He was a very, very large man.

He got to his feet mumbling and stuttering, trying to tell the man that he was there for the job interview. He waved his hands in the air, and pointing to the closed door beside him for emphasis.

The security guard's eyes got narrower and narrower at every bit of gibberish that spewed out of Mr. Bean's mouth. He suddenly pounced on Mr. Bean, pinning him to the wall, and pulling his arms behind his back. He then lurched him off the wall and marched him to the exit and down seven flights of stairs, with Mr. Bean protesting the whole way.

Once in the lobby, the receptionist took his bugged eyed and infuriated profile and pinned it to a cork board labeled , "NOT ALLOWED ON PREMISSES!" 's photo was an individual on that cork board, and after he had stared at it for a moment the security guard threw him off the premisses, how rude.

Mr. Bean stumbled out on to the street, turning back to shake his fist at the office building. Grumbling to himself, he prowled down the street, where luckily his unlocked car was still parked, and sped back to his apartment.

Needless to say, he didn't get the job.