Wednesday, February 02, 2005

A Bounty Hunter's Resume

I got a big kick out of this article that I found while browsing the games section of slashdot yesterday. Nintendo, when they were trying out some viral marketing, posted a job opening on Monster.com for an intergalactic bounty hunter. They ended up getting all kinds of interesting results, many of them jokes as would be expected, but they also made mention of some truly disturbing and downright creepy resumes. They don't list what was actually in them, but I can only imagine what some of the people who answered quasi-seriously might be like. Maybe an ex-KGB agent who recently migrated into the US, or a disgruntled semi truck driver, or how about a convicted killer who was just released on good behavior. Yeah, I bet you could really get some creeps.

When I think about it, I might be qualified to be a decent intergalactic bounty hunter. I grew up on a farm with hogs. This might not mean much to a non-hog farmer, but anyone who has raised them knows you sometimes have to beat the living hell out of them to get them to move or do what you want them to do. Sometimes you are even forced to employ the use of shovel handles, ball pein hammers, and electronic shocking devices. Hogs have a notoriously thick skin and can take a lot of punishment. Combine that with their habit of being terribly stubborn and you have a formidable foe.

I have some years of target practice under my belt. Sure, it's been maybe a decade, but I'm sure I could brush up on my gun weilding skills rather quick. You see, I'd often get bored when I was at my grandma and grandpa's place so I'd have to find stuff to do all on my own. Well, since I had access to a BB gun there, I would often gravitate towards shooting things to pass the time. Firing BB's at targets and other normal things didn't really leave a satisfactory feeling when you hit the target. I'd get a bullseye, which is cool, but nothing cool would happen... so I got creative.

My grandparents kept pop cans in a bag in their garage, completely unsmashed. I would grab as many as I could carry, take them over to the water spout in the yard, fill each one up with water, and place them in a line across one of my grandma's picnic benches. From about 25-50 yard away, I would line up my shots at the various cans and watch as my BB rocketed through the can. If the can was not knocked over, I would be treated to water spilling out through the hole created in the can. Since a hit to either side of the can or too high on the top would cause the can to get knocked over, I had to work on my aiming so that I'd hit each can precisely on the lower half of the can in the middle. After weeks, probably months and maybe even more than a year, of doing this, I became pretty darn accurate. That was amazing for two reasons--the BB gun was a piece of crap and I really didn't like guns to begin with.

As for my stealth skills, I've got plenty of experience. Since my mother works at the local post office, she has to wake up extremely early, which also means she goes to bed really early. Since she's a light sleeper, whenever anyone was still up after she went to bed, silence in movement was a much needed skill. Many times when get home late at night, I don't even bother turning on the lights in any part of the house. I use tactile feedback and my knowledge of the surroundings in my house to find my way to my room in the basement. Obstacles such as cats, dogs, laundry baskets, and claymore mines would often impede my progress, but I always managed to get to my room with little to no noise or environment disruption.

You know, as I think about it more and more, I really should be an intergalactic bounty hunter. I bet pays better than my tech writing job. Even if it doesn't, I'd at least get to play with lasers and spaceships and other cool sci-fi gadgetry.

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