Miles: “All right… Richard… I kinda hate to point this out, but uh… rent was due yesterday.”
Richard: “Rent? What is that? Some sort of tribute to the mystical forces that control The Apartment?”
Miles: “Ummm… no. It’s money. Money to keep living here. We all have to pay it, remember?”
Richard: “Oh right right, money. Well… I’m working on that.”
Miles: “So you still haven’t found a job?”
Richard: “Well… I’m almost done with my resume. Tell me how this sounds… ‘August 1860-May 1867: Farmer, Canary Islands. Engaged in farming.’ Then after that, ‘April 1867-June 2007: Caretaker of Mystical Island, No Fixed Address. Assisted in protection of mystical island – and through it, the entire world – for over 230 years. Managed hiring and vision execution.’”
Miles: “Uh…”
Richard: “And then under ‘Skills’ I have: ‘Fluent in Spanish and English. Some experience with Microsoft Word. Immortal.’”
Miles: “Okay, Richard, they’re going to think you’re lying.”
Richard: “You’re right… I’ll take out the part about Word. I’m still learning the typewriter, after all! Also, I’m not quite happy with that ‘Caretaker’ title… hey, which do you think sounds more impressive: ‘Executive Vice President of Island’, or ‘Assistant God’?”