The Apprentices

The frosted glass doors of the boardroom slid open swiftly and silently. Into the room
stepped a grey-haired elderly man. His face, which was covered with unrestrained
designer stubble, was one that only a mother could love. His voice made Henry
Kissinger’s sound like a boy soprano. His title was Lord of All Evil, and he surveyed the
six young would-be apprentices standing before him with some contempt. There were
three men and three women, all in black suits, and all were considerably apprehensive at
what lay ahead that day.

‘Good Morning, everybody.’ he barked.

‘Good Morning, Lord of All Evil,’ they replied in perfect unison.

‘You may sit down and ponder over what I have to say to you. It will not make pleasant
listening. In brief, you are without doubt the most incompetent and arrogant finalists
that I have had the misfortune to work with in the history of this competition. The
thought that I shall have to select one of you as my personal apprentice fills me with
utter despair. But you have all managed to reach this stage of the competition and have
won the right to attempt one more task. Before we undertake this task, however, do you
have any more observations about your talents and achievements that you would like to
share with the rest of us?’

The Lord of All Evil paused and anticipated an embarrassed silence, but he should have
known better. He would have learnt by now that, whatever their shortcomings, his
young contestants would be unable to resist the chance of perfuming the air with
hackneyed phrases from their lengthy and meaningless CVs. A babble of self regard
rose to a crescendo as each contestant tried to outshine the others in order to convince
the Lord of their unique and valuable qualities.

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‘I have a proven track record of establishing a network
of international enterprises. Yet, I am not conceited,
though heavens knows I have every reason to be.’

‘Anyone can see that I have demonstrated

functional logistical capability in every
single task and shown a thorough grasp of
synchronised management concepts.’

‘Sometimes I have felt like a big fish in a

small pond when surrounded by fellow
contestants of such mediocre calibre.’

‘At no stage did I have any problem in

conversating with members of my team
on a normalistic basis.’

Having had more than sufficient of this nonsense, the Lord of All Evil shouted
‘Enough!’ and was instantly obeyed. In the silence which followed, he spoke softly yet
urgently into an intercom on the desk in front of him. Within a few seconds, a servant
entered the room with a tray on which were seven glass beakers containing a dark green
fluid. The servant placed a beaker in front of each of the contestants, and one before the
Lord. The young people stared at the beakers in some confusion, and the one who had
every reason to be conceited whispered, ‘Lemonade time, folks.’ Ignoring this trite
remark, the Lord of All Evil introduced the final task.

‘Today’s task is to test your powers of observation. You will watch my actions carefully
and you will repeat them. It is as simple as that. Each of these beakers contains a fluid
that is either quite harmless or the most poisonous substance known to mankind. It
doesn’t really matter which, as long as you watch my actions carefully and then repeat
them. If you are ready, then our test will begin.’

The Lord of All Evil lifted a finger and placed it in the beaker and slowly stirred the
liquid it contained. He then appeared to place the finger in his mouth and suck at it. The
contestants stared at this display with incredulity and then repeated what they had seen.
Within seconds, several of them clutched at their throats and retched violently. Two
attempted to stand up but collapsed and fell heavily to the floor. The other three then
slumped to the floor and, soon, all were writhing in agony. The Lord of All Evil
watched this horrifying scene without betraying a single emotion. With bulging eyes
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and gasping for breath, the unfortunate job applicants entered their final death throes.
Within two minutes all was silent. Only one contestant remained, a rather fastidious
young woman who had boasted of her ability to communicate with others.

The Lord of All Evil pointed in turn at each of the lifeless figures on the floor and said
‘You’re fired.’ Turning the the sole survivor, he smiled and said ‘You’re hired.’

But the young woman before him shook her head and said, ‘Much as I would love to
accept the post, My Lord, I cannot. You see, I cheated at the final hurdle.’

‘You cheated?’ queried the Lord raising an eyebrow.

‘Well, after I placed my finger in the liquid, I placed a different finger in my mouth.’

‘And what influenced this course of action?’

‘The liquid didn’t look too hygienic.’

The Lord of All Evil smiled benignly at his new apprentice. ‘So, your powers of
observation are not quite as sharp as I thought they were. You see, m’dear, that is
exactly what I did to avoid whatever was in the beaker. I thought it was obvious.
However, by your words and actions today, you have shown an unusual combination of
deceit and honesty. Though the latter distresses me somewhat, perhaps there is some
hope for you in the business world. Now let us withdraw to my office, so we can study
your contract and, as you so elegantly put it, conversate together on a normalistic basis.’

Once again, the frosted glass doors slid open swiftly and silently, and the two departed
the boardroom. Almost immediately, several cleaners entered the room with buckets
and mops, and several large heavy duty plastic sacks.

Tony Crowley (2011)