Quickening my pace,

To catch up with my boss.

While hurtful comments

About my attire,

He casually toss.

A gun in his waist,

A grin on his face

Brown hair slick backed

Armani suit in tack.

Blue eyes ocean deep

In my soul they seep.

He welcomed me in his house,

A mansion at that

Which was quiet as a mouse

No rat-a tat-tat

He took my résumé

He looked it over.

He said,

"If you don't mind, you can call me master Rover."

I laughed at his name

What widen was his grin.

He placed his cold fingers

Upon my chin,

His fingers linger there

Giving my body quite the scare

"I'm just kidding my darling.

Call me Master Alistair."