Interviewing Xavier

First I had to create a resume and now I have to subject myself to an interview? Couldn't they simply read my autobiography, It's Xavier's World and Your Just Living In It, if there was something they wanted to know about me? I waited, with the patience of a saint, in a Primatech office, chatting up a cute secretary, until my interviewer arrived. He made quite the entrance.


"Dr. Manhattan, I presume?" I asked the floating, naked blue man in front of me.


"That is correct, Professor Xavier."


"Tell me, Manhattan, is it true that your are consciously aware across all . . throughout your entire time . . Manhattan, would you mind putting some clothes on?"

He glanced down at himself, as if unsure what I meant. "Does my lack of clothes bother you?"

"Well . . it is a bit distracting. You are rather . . jiggly."

Looking into his mind telepathically, I could see that he was willing to dress, but he seemed unsure what clothes were, as if he had forgotten. He glanced at an open magazine on a desk and recreated what he saw.

"Better?" he asked.




"Yes, thank you. Now as I was asking . ."

"It is for me to ask you questions," he interrupted.


"Alright, what would you like to know?"


"On your resume, you list beings that you have killed. Why is that?"


I paused, dramatically. "Given the mysterious nature of the job that I'm applying for, I thought it might be relevant. You knew that I was going to say that, didn't you?"

"Yes, I am aware of all the answers that you will give me."

"In that case," I said, "since you already know everything I will say to you, there is really no reason for us to waste our time continuing. Such inefficiency would be an illogical use of our time."

Dr. Manhattan stared back at me, a little confused. "I suppose from a certain point of view, that makes sense," he answered slowly.

"Fine then, let's move on to the physical."

He hesitated and then shrugged. "There is a nurse on the next floor who will examine you."

I left the floating blue man in the Snuggie and headed for the nurse. She was a rather cute blond who knew how to examine a man. Unfortunately, the Haitian was standing behind a screen, discreetly blocking my powers. The physical went smoothly. The nurse did express some confusion as to why I was using a wheelchair, though. Habit, I explained.

The problem came when she wanted to administer a drug test. I usually enjoy a shot or four of Cognac in the morning to get my started, and then a few more for lunch so that I can make it through the afternoon. I didn't know if Primatech would appreciate that particular skill of mine. Being a genius level intellect, I had anticipated this moment though and arranged for Scott to stop by before my interview and provide me with a clean sample. I went into the rest room, admired my reflection for a bit, and then returned, giving the nurse Scott's sample. She tested it.



"Well the good news, Professor, is that you are drug and alcohol free," she told me. "The bad news is that you are pregnant."