Every Paragraph Contains a True Sentence

   I have had other jobs; haven't always been a temp. I was an international jewellery thief for a while, and made huge money. I remember slaloming through strafing gunfire from guards at South Africa's largest diamond mine. It was hot and arid and dark, but I could have outrun a cheetah in that escape, even with the rocks under my jacket.

   It was the smuggling that finally stopped me. I was running stolen gems all over the place and never got caught. I was a shape-shifter,  and could change from a priest to a policeman to a Pakistani in a heartbeat. I had passports under five different names in the soles of my shoes.  I got into the States as a touring ventriloquist, and the customs people never checked my puppet. I was nabbed when the dummy coughed up the Moonbeam Diamond during a show in Vegas. Sometimes, I get sloppy.

   I was put away, but escaped during a storm. In the yard, I had found a smooth stone that I knew was alien because it shimmered with a light of a colour no human had seen before. When I pressed it to my forehead, I could hear words from other realms. I spoke them aloud, became lightning, and was gone in a blinding burst.

    All temps know that they're the bravest of employees. Temps are mercenaries on the battlefields of business. They have to know only a bit of everything about office work, but they have to get along with so many different people. That's easy for me, since I can hypnotize people instantly with just a look. It's more of a mind-stun, really.

   The guy supervising me today is named Larry, who smells of elderberry. He's a time-traveller. I can tell because his socks don't match, he's always looking at his watch, and he mumbles in a language of the future. When he calls me over and says they're going to let me go, I yell at him that I know who he is and that I have special powers. I use my mind-stun and then he doesn't say it anymore because he's turned into a gnarly banzai tree, which is what time-travellers can do.

   Women love me, and not only because my body looks like it's of shaped titanium. My face is that of Alexander the Great, who I saw in a bust once. What women love most, though, is that I always know exactly what they want: usually stories of my adventures. They really like hearing about my battles with the Maggot People of an alternate universe. Women always look astounded when I tell my stories.

    There's a lot of noise at the door behind me.

  

The End

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