By: Adam Kluger

“He’s an ENFP.”
“Really?”
“That’s what the tests show.”
“Very rare”
“Especially for this line of work”
“Obama, Bubba–both ENFPs”
“yeah, doesn’t mean a thing- so was Mark Twain, Oscar Wilde and Huxley.”
“So you don’t think the tests work?”
“I didn’t say that–but you have to admit some of the questions on those tests are a bit outdated.”
“Such as?”
“Do you see cars outside your window?”
“Well do you?”
“That’s not the point.”
“What is your point?”
“Nothing, forget I said anything.”
“Well at least we’re going to earn our money this time.”
“Maybe more than that.”
“I think this place is getting to you is what I think.”

“Hold on, (taps her ear) yes, yes…we’re ready– you can bring Mr. Brown into intake.
The three of them sat at the table and discussed goals, protocols and not much else.
Mr. Brown was given a briefcase with his name on it and other items for his use along with instructions for the event to take place later that night.

Brown left. White and Black stayed.

“Well?”
“Definitely an ENFP.”
“And?”
“Hopefully he doesn’t screw the pooch.”
“and if he does?”
“Let’s just trust in the process.”
“Back here at eighteen hundred.”
“Do you really need to ask?”
“No.”
“Then why did you?”
“Just a feeling.”
“Maybe we need to re-test you”
“Maybe.”
Later that night Black, White and Brown met back at intake.
“Well? So why are you here,” asked Black.
“Had to abort,” replied Brown.

Black nodded and closed her eyes. White’s government issued Luger sprayed Brown’s brains all over the bullet-proof intake window.

It’s not that Black had a distaste for wet work. She just didn’t like the nightmares.
“Well, that’s that, I guess,” said White.

“Yep, unfortunate business this one– and I’ve got to admit that you were totally right,” said Black as she slowly started to reach for the loaded Luger resting on her lap.