“House cleaner needed. Must to wear special suit. $7500.00 per day.”

Damian looked at the Craigslist ad, laughing to himself. “House cleaner needed. Must to wear special suit. $7500.00 per day.” He pictured himself in a doily apron, scrubbing the baseboards, and who knew what else. But could it really be any worse than his recent cameo on “Ride of the Bumblebee,” where he buzzed around a performer onstage, playing “Flight of the Bumblebee” on a kazoo – in a bee costume – while the other performer tried to overpower him, belting out “Ride of the Valkeries” in a Viking helmet? For 15 rehearsals and one weekend of performances he received $25. Yes, this could be a step UP, he thought.

He dialed the number, and a woman’s voice answered. Yes, the price was $7500.00 per day – not a typo – and he would simply have to wear a special suit. He copied down the directions.

He arrived at the modern home on the bluffs of the Pacific Palisades, rang the bell, and waited. The door opened, and a well-groomed Asian woman answered the door in a French maid’s outfit. Her English was impeccable. Her stare was disarmingly intense, yet her demeanor was warm and pleasant. “I’m so happy you could come, Damian. We’ve been having a great deal of difficulty filling the position. Why don’t you sit down, and have some tea, and he’ll be with you in a moment.”

As Damian sipped his lapsang oolang, he pondered what demeaning tasks might wait in store for him, but before he had too long to get himself worked up, Mr. Fujimojo arrived. His head was completely bald; there were no eyebrows visible on his face, and the only eyelashes he appeared to have seemed to be false. He also seemed radiant and happy. “Mistah Damian, so happy to meet you.” He bowed in his silk tunic, and sat down on a bench, a respectful distance from Damian. “So is not problem, for you to wear special suit?” Damian was beginning to become amused. “Not at all, why of course not. I’m an ENTERTAINER, after all.”

“Ah, yes, yes, of course, Mistah Entataynah. Well, please, to go in room and try on special suit at once then, yes?”

Damian set his tea down on the side table and entered the dressing room.

In front of the bench hung a Hazmat Suit. Damian swallowed hard and began to wonder what he’d gotten himself into.

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