Robinson Crusoe checked his list for the final time. The auditions had gone well. Competition was fierce, but after twelve very ordinary interviewees, he'd finally found the Man Friday for him.
There were bound to be complaints. Allegations of fixing, of favouritism, even corruption, but all without foundation. He was an equal opportunities employer, and proud of it. Even the one-armed man had been given a chance. Despite rudely refusing to shake hands.
Confident he'd made the right decision, Crusoe called in the successful applicant, and smiled.
"Oh yes, you'll fit right in," he thought, eyeing up her cleavage.
