THE GIMP FROM PULP FICTION APPLIES FOR DALKEY ARCHIVE INTERNSHIP
John O’ Brien
Dalkey Archive
Dear Mr. O’Brien,
I recently came upon your notice for unpaid interns and I believe my experience and skills are an excellent match for your requirements.
For the last several years, I have been employed as a gimp in a box in the basement of Zed's Pawn Shop in Canoga Park, Los Angeles. I am tethered. I sleep in a four by two foot storage locker. In all my years in this position (and I do hope you’ll excuse my vagueness on details, which is a necessary condition of my current employment) I have never once been late for work. Nor have I left early. I have worked literally every weekend and evening since the very first night of my enslavement. My goals, while admittedly modest, have each been achieved, each and every day: I have remained silent, obedient, imprisoned.
While some may argue that the particulars of my work uniform and the very complete nature of my containment contributed to these next achievements, I am quite proud to report that I have never, once, in my entire time at Zed’s Pawn Shop, taken personal phone calls during work hours, gossiped, misused company property, submitted poorly written materials, created an atmosphere of complaint or argument, or failed to respond to emails in a timely way.
PAUL: Yeah! You all are crazy, Tulsa! I think … I think … I think Tulsa might be the craziest place we played ON THIS TOUR. That’s right, Tulsa! You know what gets me crazy, Tulsa? You wanna knooooooooow what gets me CRAAAAA-AAAAA-AAAA-ZEEEEEE? I get craaaaazeeee when I see them young girls, Tulsa. I see ’em walkin’ down the street so young and clean and I just can’t help myself, people! Remind me of another young boy couldn’t help himself when he saw them young girls. And I ain’t talkin’ about just anybody Tulsa! I ain’t talking about you … or me … or Peter or Ace or even Gene, people! I’m talking bout a man named Romeo, Tulsa! ROOOOO-MEEEEEEE-OOOOOOH! My man Romeo he loved them young girls, Tulsa, oh YEAH, he loved ’em! And this one girl he loved her special. You know who I’m talkin’ about … shout it out Tulsa … tell me Romeo and …
The following comments have been taken from the 360-degree peer review for Jack Bauer [Employee #22132] at Store 332, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. We provide these comments to you purely in the interest of self-improvement. You are a valuable part of the Applebee’s team, and we hope you can use this feedback from your fellow employees to continue to make Applebee’s America’s neighborhood restaurant.
Woke up in a pool of blood in the back room of a diner in Scranton, Pennsylvania. Three hostiles dead in the walk-in cooler. Middle Eastern. The blood was not mine. Perhaps an answer to the questions that plague me—who am I? Who trained me? Why am I constantly on the run? Or only a false lead, more maddening questions.
"Were we all supposed to have pictures? I know this is only the second week of workshop, but, I mean, nobody else had pictures, right? Mine doesn't have any pictures. It could, though, I guess. I guess maybe it would be better with some pictures?" 



