Jesse rode Dave to work through the woods, over the hill to the next small town, where he worked in his father’s shoe factory. Well, he thought, if I’m going to have to go to work, I might as well travel in style. He arrived late, much to the disgust and annoyance of the supervisor, who had a face like a slapped arse, and an arse to match.

“You must be Jesse!” she said, her face looking even uglier when she spoke. “Your father said you would probably arrive riding a fat giraffe.”

“Yes,” said Jesse, barely able to look at her without vomiting his morning porridge back up. “It’s my favourite method of transport. When you don’t have a driving licence, you need friends in the animal kingdom.”

“I see, um, yes….anyway, it’s through here….” She showed him round the building, introducing him to the other workers. Jesse felt strange, wearing trousers for the first time in a while. Everyone was very polite to him, including another woman who also had a face like a slapped arse, an arse like a slapped face and arms like fat legs. And there was an old man who was very bent over, and would probably bend over even further if you asked him, which nobody ever did.

Jesse shouted, “I am karate!” and everyone looked shocked. Oh no, who is this mad person, they all thought. All at the same time as well; the wonderful power of telepathy, how amazing.

“Okay, this is your spot,” said the arse face woman. “The shoes will come along here on the conveyor belt and your job is to check them for any problems.”

“Can I try them on?” said an excited Jesse.

“What???”

“Can I try the shoes on? That way I’ll know if they are comfortable.”

“Of course you can’t try them on!” she snapped back. “For a start, they won’t all be your size; but also, you won’t have time to try them on; the conveyor belt will be continuously moving new ones through for you to check.”

At this point, a tiny amount of half digested porridge vomited up into Jesse’s mouth; but he swallowed it back down, and did his best to get on with the job at hand…