Career Counselling

Bob: Morning, Sir.

Durai: Morning.... Mister.... Robert Chettilingam.

Robert Chettilingam: Bob, Sir. And that goes to you too (at me).

Me: Sorry.

Bob (changed from Robert Chettilingam): Well that's more like it.

Durai: So... Bob... What's your problem?

Bob: I appeared for a counselling conducted by your esteemed firm. I have gone through all the thorough examinations and procedures so meticulously researched by your dedicated team.

Durai: I see you have taken the special offer with which you have to endorse our services.

Bob: Oh, by gosh! Why would I have to endorse your service? It endorses itself with its quality.

Durai: Let's not oversell here Mr.Bob. Apparently, the observations made by our team, we don't advertising is the right profile for you.

Bob (sad): Oh... is it Fighter pilot, then?

Durai: No. Not a fighter pilot either. Unfortunately, a person who falls unconscious in the 12th floor of his office cannot be a fighter pilot.

Bob: I have survived 13th floor of a rather not-so-tall high rise, Sir.

Durai: Let's forget about becoming a fighter pilot Bob.

Bob: A cricketer.

Durai: No.

Bob: A ventriloquist.

Durai: No.

Bob: A cunnilinguist then.

Durai: First of all, that's pornographic. And second, no, that's not really your field.

Bob: Oh please, don't tell me. I know.

Durai: What are you hinting at, Bob?

Bob: I think you will deem me irrepressibly drab and boring and condemn me to the life of... a chartered accountant.

Durai: I see where that notion might be coming from. But well, it's not Chartered Accountancy either, Mister Bob.

Bob (sad): A Banker, then?

Durai: Nope. Not a banker, either.

Bob: Ok. I wave the flag of defeat. I lay down my weapons. I bow my head. I let out the pigeon. I drop my badges. I beat retreat. I fail to second guess you.

Durai: That was quite dramatic.

Bob (emphatically): An actor then! I don't want the big limelights. A day time serial or soap opera is fine for me.

Durai: Forget limelights or day time soaps. On the contrary, we think that you should be a serial killer.

Bob: A serial what?

Durai: Killer.

Bob: Is it like a butcher?

Durai: No. It's like a killer.

Bob: So I kill wild animals? Like a hunter?

Durai: No. You kill human beings.

Bob: Like an executioner.

Durai: Like a murderer, Bob.

Bob: What?!?!?!

Durai: Yes Mister Bob. I think you should murder people serially.

Bob: Serially?

Durai: Yes. You should find a pattern in the murders you commit. By that, we mean you cannot murder people based on random instincts, but your targets will be chosen in accordance to rules set logically, socially or politically. It is but a series that you assign to your murders. A line that connects one target to the next.

Bob: Seems like a lot of hard work.

Durai: Indeed. Indeed. But that's not the only way you can get the tag of a serial killer. You see, Mister Bob, serial killers are a notch above being ordinary murderers. It requires a careful observation of your prospective victim's behavioural patterns and an acute knowledge of socio-political schemes of the world. You will then have to choose your method of murdering.

Bob: So, it's not just hack and slash you mean.

Durai: Not at all. You have to device your specific way of putting someone to rest. It will be like your brand. Complete with trademarks and guidelines.

Bob: Hmm. This sounds quite interesting. It's almost like Marketing.

Durai: Yes. You see, you have to distinguish yourself from the rest of the killers out there. You have to carefully place enough hints on a crime scene to ensure that the investigating officers identify that the murderer is you.

Bob: But won't they catch me then?

Durai: No, Mister Bob. Your real identity will not be known to the authorities. You will have a pseudo moniker, like Stone Man or The Ripper.

Bob: Or.. or... THE CAMEL'S TAIL.

Durai: Well, it's up to your discretion really. But don't you think, the Camel's Tail is a little on the lighter side?

Bob: No. No. The Camel's Tail is exotique. It gives this very Persian hashashin kind of an air.

Durai: I see. I have to say, I do not disagree. But what will be your modus operandi?

Bob: You see, I will stab the victim initially with a pocket knife. I will ensure that they are dead and then proceed to gouge their eyes out and stuff it with camel's hair.

Durai: Great Mister Bob. I see that now you are on the right path to become a terrifying and cold serial killer. Now that the counselling has helped you, you mind presenting me the fees?

Bob: Yes. Of course, of course. But first you must take this.

Durai: Oh my God. I am your first vict.... Hey Bob. Look. A comet.

Bob: You don't fool me with that....

BANG!

At about this point, life as we have known came to an end. Comet Copped struck a killer blow to Earth and wiped out all forms of life from this otherwise beautiful planet.