Minions

Somebody actually used the following line with me the other day in all earnestness:

I'll have your people call my people.

A person actually said that to me. Really.* How awful is that?

I don't have people. I don't want people.

I want minions: jackbooted, nameless, unquestioning slaves to my every whim who will unfalteringly assist me in the forcible takeover of the borough of Mount Oliver.

People won't blindly hurl themselves into a machine gun nest for you.

I wouldn't mind an intern, though; at least an intern would blindly hurl himself into a Starbucks to fetch me a Mocachino.

I have a better chance at getting an intern too.
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*No, not really. That's a lie. But it's an entertaining lie. So isn't that really the truth?**

**No.