And now it's another interview with someone you don't yet know

The second part of our interview series dealing with various crazy professionals is, The Mad Fileclerk. Working from a precarious 19th floor file room, we find the Mad Fileclerk just waking up from a mid-morning nap. Hoping to catch him at a more unguarded moment, we jump right in.
Interviewer: File Clerk begins with "F" and so does the word "fjord." Coincidence?
M.F.C.: No. There is no relationship between my profession and...STOP STARING AT MY HUMP! DO NOT STARE AT MY HUMP! DO NOT...say, is there something in your pockets that might be attractive to ants?
Interviewer: How has the advent of the internets affected file clerkery?
M.F.C.: Well, the intern-ettes have been a welcome addition to my day. As you look at me, I'm sure you can imagine I don't get many dates. So when the company decided to create an all female intern drill team to rally company spirit, mine went through the roof. Perky young things running around in tight outfits, and that one broad with the hair extensions...whoa! Really Hot!
Interviewer: 2-part question: Does a File Clerk consider the internets to be his mortal enemy, and if so, which ones?
M.F.C.: There is only one of the intern-ettes I might consider my mortal enemy, Jamie Fisher - she's a total bitch. Three days ago she started bitching things like "Yo' humpback, where's my fax, and I was all like...(at this point, the Mad FileClerk turns to his assistant and yells) "IGOR, GET ME ANOTHER SWISHER SWEET! SHUT UP, I DON'T GIVE A RAT'S ASS - THEN GO TO THE FUCKING STORE AND BUY ANOTHER FUCKING BOX THEN...JEEEZUS." (turning back to the interviewer and continuing) "and I go, damn lady, you got the wrong department. Anyways, they found her three days later at the loading dock, jammed into two file storage boxes. Still, anyone you can stick inside a file retention box without a struggle could hardly be called a MORTAL enemy. So I guess not.
Interviewer: True or false, the Dewey Decimal System: A helpful form of file clerkery for books, or a devilish hoax folded up neatly and mailed to each one of us in an envelope marked, "You can't spell any of "Librarian" without most of "Lie?"
M.F.C.: True. God, you don't know how true that is. But if you really want my opinion on binder clips, two hole punches, staples, and yardwaste, you should read my autobiography. In chapter 13, I discuss my wrestling match with Ronald Reagan. I went from a figure-four leg-lock to a top-turnbuckle flying elbow to the neck. Now that's not an easy turnaround, if you know what I mean, and I mean, he was down-and-out. I went for the pin, when, well, it was either Shultz or Weinburger - they were both at the apron - smacked me from behind with the Presidential Seal. I'm pretty sure it was Shultz - he's a big guy you know. Of course the referee was distracted, but man, I could have been President. Just let that be a lesson to you, don't ever wrestle the President without a trusty man of your own, watching your back. Those guys are sneaky. Are you sure you don't have anything in your pockets? I'm seeing a lot of ants around here.
Interviewer: No. So what color is a file clerk's day?
M.F.C.: Interesting question...mostly like the static on a television not set for any channel, but with hints of tangerine, spread into four equal parts of varying blackness, each more black than the next. Superimposed upon those are randomly flickering letters - in sort of a Helvetica font - in white. Mostly they spell out random patterns of words, but often I see the words "Bat Erection." Nobody has been able to explain to me what this means.
Interviewer: Okay, well, what, would be your favorite curse word?
M.F.C. Obviously - Goat!
Interviewer: Let's get inside your head for a minute. What would you say to God, or Satan as the case may be, when you meet her?
M.F.C.: (he cackles madly) I'd like to have a look at my file! (he cracks himself up until spittle is running in a long stream from his mouth to his chair. Just then his young assistant Igor returns with a fresh box of Swisher Sweet cigars. He tears it open, jams one in his mouth and fires it up. After a couple of drags he regains his composure and leans back in his chair.) No seriously, I've already seen 'em. Both those joints got a lot of records to keep. I'm too mad to end up - upstairs, I'm bound for Hell's fileroom. (he puffs on the cigar, making a horrid stink, thinking.)
Interviewer: One last question. If you were on a Quest to become the Supreme Ruler of the world, what device would you invent with which to conquer?
M.F.C.: I've considered this question in the past...and I have to believe I would create a massive hovercraft with magma-cannons, and this is the best part, it would have...(just then Igor interrupts. "Um, Mad Fileclerk, I have a problem." We both turn to see Igor covered in a full-body swarm of ants. The Mad Fileclerk exclaims, 'HOLY GOAT!" and dashes over - Swisher Sweet clutched in his jaw - to help his young apprentice.)


Sooo, there ya have it folks! Another interview with an important person who helps run our world, brought to you by Fjord.