I stink at short stories, so I think I won't put any of mine here. :P Seriously, I have to write either really short things or really long things if I want them to be any good.

-EH

Professional

I sat on the couch in the waiting room
waiting for my interview. It was my very first ever and I could
barely sit still. But I had to. Sitting still, I learned, is
professional. And I was going to be professional, or my great great
great great great great great great grandfather was not- My thoughts
were interrupted by Mr. Step's nice secretary. “Mr. Step will see
ya now Mistah....” She looked down at her paper. “Mistah Boots.”
I jumped down from the couch and walked through the door. “Mistah
Boots?”

“Down here.” She looked down.

“ Mistah Boots?” She said, not
surprised at all.

“Yes, I am Mr. Boots.”

“Okay then, come right thu-rough
he-a da-ling,” she said.

I walked my way through the hallway,
my beloved boots leaving little marks of dirt on the recently cleaned
carpeted floor. Mr. Step's secretary did not seem to mind. Then just
before she left me at his office door, she stooped down... and petted
me.( or the sentence could be Then just before she left me at his
office door she patted me on the head. I resisted the urge to attack
her.) I resisted the urge to claw her to death. Be professional I
reminded myself. Professional.

Mr. Step was sitting in a huge chair
reading my resume. He seemed impressed.

“I see you are quite prominent in
pest removal, and you have a degree in sword fighting, and uh,
lying?” He asked without looking up. “It says here also that you
can uh, speak to animals?” Mr Step smirked and finally looked up.
He stopped laughing. He was serious when he said “So you think you
can arrange a marriage between my son and the CEO's daughter, for
purely political reasons of course since, if we are relatives, then
when he retires I might get his position, while ridding the building
from rats and mice at the same time?” He looked like a little boy
on his birthday, hoping for some thing big and explosive when he
opens up the presents.

“Yes. I'll rid you as well of snips
and snails, and puppy dogs tails and of course, little boys. Isn't
that the job requirement. I will do this all!”
I said and heroically added,

“Or my great great great great great
great great great grandfather was not Puss In Boots.” The interview
was over.

“Thank you for your time” I said.
Professionally. Something inside me, or was it something on Mr.
Step's face, told me that I had nailed the interview. I gave a purr
of satisfaction.

“Have a nice day deah,” said the
secretary and reached down to pet me but I was already out the door.
Professional. Professional.