Young reporter and recent college grad Sam Sturdivant arrives to work late for the fifth day in a row. Stumbling ever so slightly, he passes the doorway of his boss' office.

Boss: Not so fast, Sturdivant. Can you come in here a minute?

Sam Sturdivant: (Walks in, winded. Sits.) …What.

Boss: Sturdivant, why did I just watch you stroll into work an hour and a half late?

SS: …

Boss: Sturdivant?

SS: …hmmwha?

Boss: Wow. You just fell asleep. Unbelievable.

SS: I absolutely did not.

Boss: You're drooling.

SS: That's just, um… water. Stretchy water. Something's wrong with the fountain out there I think.

Boss: Sturdivant, my patience for your endless list of excuses is rapidly wearing thin. This is the fifth straight time you've been tardy.

SS: I mean, yeah?

Boss: It's also your fifth day working here.

SS: Oh, weird. Same number. That's spooky.

Boss: Kid, give me one reason why I shouldn't shit-can your ass right this second.

SS: …

Boss: WELL??

SS: …hmmwha? Oh. I, uh… I would, sir, but I'm not at liberty to talk about it.

Boss: Son, if you at all value this job, I recommend you spill, and quick.

SS: …Well, can I trust you?

Boss: Fine. Whatever. Out with it.

SS: Sir, I… I'm a superhero.

Boss: A… superhero.

SS: A costumed crime-fighter? You know, like Batman? Iron Man? Except for reals.

Boss: That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard… but goddamnit you have an honest face. Go on.

SS: It's 100 percent true, sir. My, uh, my alter ego is… (looks around office) …Stapler…Boy.

Boss: Stapler Boy.

SS: Yes sir, because, see, as a teenager, I accidently got my hand stapled by this… radioactive Swingline.

Boss: This is incredibly implausible. I'm listening…

SS: Also my parents were murdered right before my eyes by a series of horrific, um, paper cuts… so I walk the streets at night, shooting staples at things, to avenge them.

Boss: But how did paper-

SS: Sir! Please. I don't like to talk about it.

Boss: Of course. I'm… so sorry for your loss. But, with all due respect, what does any of this have to do with your excessive absence?

SS: Well, like this morning, for instance, I was busy saving orphans from a flash flood… in Venezuela. I can fly at the speed of staples, did I mention that part?

Boss: No. (Tosses a staple.) Hmm… that doesn't seem very fast… what about the day before? You reeked of alcohol…

SS: Oh! I spent the previous night doing battle with my archnemesis. Comrade Vodkaface. He's Russian.

Boss: …and the other stench? That urine smell?

SS: Hmm. That was because of his sidekick… Petey Piss Puddle.

Boss: You also had a… phallus… drawn on your forehead…

SS: The Magic Marker. That bastard.

Boss: …and this weird stain on your pants.

SS: Courtesy of that dastardly Nocturnal Emission, no doubt! Anyway I'm sure you heard about that epic four-way brawl. It was in all the papers.

Boss: Sturdivant.

SS: What?

Boss: This is a newspaper.

SS: Right. Well, maybe if you would stop hassling me every goddamn day and focus on your own job, you guys wouldn't miss important stories like that.

Boss: Hmm. I apologize, Sturdivant. I shouldn't have doubted you.

Intern: (rushing in) Sir! There's a four-alarm fire in the building across the street!

Boss: My God! Sturdivant! What the hell are you waiting for!?

SS: You mean, you want me to go write about it? I was about to take my lunch break…

Boss: No! Sturdivant, you have to save those people!

SS: Oh, uh, but I mean… my costume looks ridiculous, heh…

Boss opens window.

SS: But we're like 25 stories up.

Boss: I know, it's the perfect height! I can see the smoke from here… Fly like staples, Stapler Boy!

SS: But-

Boss: GO! (Shoves Sturdivant out window.)

Intern: Um, sir? What the hell.

Boss: Hang on a sec. (Looks down.) Wait for it… wait for it… oooo, little rough on the landing. God I hate slackers. Hey kid, can you go repost that job listing on Career Builder?