“I don’t think that you’re actually an HR person.” Melody plainly stated.

The three were sitting in the recreation room. Tahala had poured some glasses of juice from an exotic fruit that was a cross between grapes and the concept of mindfulness. Oliver had regained most of his senses, and seemed more worried for his bank account than the bodily harm he experienced.

“I may have mostly skipped past the material.” Oliver said as he put on a new shirt.

Oliver threw his old shirt into a bin labeled Gorey Garment Garbage. The new shirt was obviously too small.

“They show off my toned body.” He offered.

“They shrank in the wash because they’re cheap and he buys them in bulk.” Countered Tahala.

“So, you pay money to heal yourself?” Asked Melody, moving the conversation forward. “Where does the money go?”

“No idea.” Tahala said.

“Is it expensive?”

“From how much he whines, probably.” Jabbed Tahala. “Would you like to know what I thought of your job performance?”

“Right. The job. I was wondering why I hadn't run away screaming yet.” Melody blankly said.

“There's still plenty of time for that. Anyways, I get as much say in hiring you as Oliver does. Which is to say, not that much. I am one of, like, three people who work here, so maybe a good word will help.”

“Thanks, but I think I might want to go home now.”

Tahala made a face as if Melody had stabbed her with a spork, then twisted it.

“Come on! You did great! Half of the requirement was being able to stand in a room with Oliver for more than five minutes.”

“I don’t even know what you people do here!”

Tahala paused. “Did the flyer not say what the job was?”

Oliver chimed in. “Look, I figured if I kept it vague, people would be more interested. People love a sense of mystery.”

“Not in a job listing, you hapless halfwit.”

“Do any other job listings make more sense? Some of those things want ten years of experience for jobs that have only existed for five years.” Observed Oliver.

“You could do that if you could travel back in time.” Tahala said.

“Or stole someone's memories.” Added Melody.

“Made a pact with a demon.”

“Hyperbolic time chamber.”

“Neural implant.”

“Anyway.” Oliver cut them off. “I still got an applicant, didn’t I? We do minor security here.”

“Security?”

“Yeah. Lately we’ve been doing cash transfer driving. Armored car stuff.”

“Whoa, like taking tons of cash between banks?”

“Not quite that. More like convenience stores. We mostly need to look tough to scare off smaller thieves. We don’t carry enough cash to attract anyone who is actually dangerous.” Oliver foreshadowed.

Tahala stepped very close to Melody. “Any thoughts on the job? You just need to look tough, and we can make that work.”

“I may need some time to think about it.”

Tahala told Melody how much the job pays.

“Yeah, I’m in.”

“Great! Let’s bring you to the guy who signs the paychecks.”

“Wait! I didn’t say if she could join!” Oliver pouted.

Tahala just stared at him.

“I mean, I guess you’re fine.”

“Yay!” Tahala took Melody’s hand, which Melody politely shook off.

They left for a part of the factory that was decidedly nicer than the rest. The paint wasn’t peeling, the plants weren’t dead, and there was far less asbestos in the walls. The original manager’s office of the building had remained intact, and kept its original purpose. The interior of the office was tidy, and limited to essentials. The only personal touch in the room was a half-finished game of dominos. Inside, a man sat at a desk, filing paperwork. Unlike the conspicuously inconsequential paperwork Oliver had earlier, this paperwork seemed important.

The man looked to be in his mid-40s. He wore a dark grey double-breasted suit with silver buttons. Oliver appeared a little apprehensive.

Tahala smiled. “Hi boss! We found a second distraction!”

“Distra-?” Melody started, but stopped when she saw the man boring a hole into her with his eyes.

After a moment of silence, he spoke. “Good enough.”

Tahala thanked him and ushered the other two out of the office.

“Should I have some sort of training first?” Asked Melody.

On this Earth, one organization that did not survive the Great Magical War was the Occupational Safety and Health Administration, otherwise known as OSHA . After the war, many new jobs did away with pesky things like ‘handrails’ or ‘fire escapes’ or ‘maximum safe occupancy’. One argument made was that humans were demonstratively more durable than they were in the past, and injuries were more easily healed. However, it could also be said that there were greater dangers. An example list of new dangers that did not have any proper safety guidelines, but probably should was:

Safely storing semi-sentient magical chemicals What to do when a demon rift opens in your workplace How to prevent the appearance of angry flying clocks resulting from time paradoxes When to beg forgiveness from the ghosts that haunt heavy machinery The difference between ‘gravity’ wells and ‘depravity’ wells (One compresses you to a single point, the other turns you into a supervillain. Scientists still debate which one is cooler.)

Thus, it was not particularly strange for the colorful girl to begin a potentially dangerous job with little to no training.

“Don’t worry, we can train you on the job.” Tahala said, confident in her mentoring ability. “Let’s get you ready to go”.

“What’s this about me being a distraction?” Melody asked, becoming increasingly worried about her new job.

“I drive. Oliver is muscle and a distraction. Now you will be too. You just have to sit there and look pretty. Which you do, cutie.” Tahala winked.