Irrelevant Cheetah

“Yes? May I help you?”
“Yeah, I’m here about the ad.”
“Oh, yes. The ad. So, you want to be a cobbler, eh?”
“Well, I was wondering…”
“Yes?”
“What the $@^% is a cobbler, anyway?”
“Shoes. We make shoes.”
“Shoes?”
“Shoes.”
“But there’s a crane in the yard. If you make shoes, why do you need a crane?”
“Well, we’ve got some big clients.”
“Really.”
“Yup. The Jolly Green Giant? Goes nowhere else.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And now our latest client…”
“Do tell.”
“Well, she’s a devout Catholic.”
“And?”
“Well, she’s got a lot of kids, and quite frankly, she’s outgrown her loafer.”
“She lives in a loafer?”
“Well, that’s just it. It’s a big loafer, but she has so many kids, she doesn’t know what to do, so she’s looking to get into something bigger.”
“So, obviously, she calls the local shoemaker.”
“You’ve got it! And we’re a little swamped right now, what with Humpty Dumpty breaking his foot in that fall, and Jack Sprat’s wife outgrowing her latest pair of slippers again, so we thought we’d look for some extra help. And here you are.”
“Here I am.”
“So does it sound like something you’d be interested in? It’s good pay and benefits, and the hours are good.”
“Well, I’m not sure I’m ready to be making shoes with heavy equipment. I saw another ad for pie-baker for Jack Horner, Inc. I think I’ll try them out.”
“Suit yourself. Do you like plums?”
“Plums? Why do you ask?”
“No reason. Good luck!”