Application for Nero Wolfe from the Nero Wolfe novels by Rex Stout

[gourmetwolfe.livejournal.com]

A large man, weighing a full seventh of a ton, bustled through the door, carrying a branch of a Phalaenopsis hybrid in a bud vase. He frowned as he realized that he was not in the room that he expected to be in. He turned, the door no longer behind him. He frowned, the corners of his mouth turning down slightly. His assistant, the man he was looking for, would classify the expression as a frenzy of expression. He turned again, facing in the room. "Confound it," he snarled. "Archie. Archie! Enough of this flumery. Confound it." He glared around the room impartially. His desk, his chair, the book he was reading. None of them were in this room, the room that should have been his office. "Fritz!" he bellowed.

"Confound it," he pronounced again, looking around the room. He found a chair that looked as though it would support his mass near a table. He crossed to it, his steps heavier now as he crossed the room. He set the vase on the table and pulled down his gray suit jacket. He ran his hands down the matching vest and adjusted his yellow and red abstractly patterned tie, resetting the yellow collar of his shirt before he sat himself, obviously uncomfortably, in the chair.

He drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair, looking around. He glanced at the table he'd set the orchid branch on and noticed the stack of papers. He drew them over, read over them quickly and tossed them back onto the table. "Buffoonery. I will not be subject to this nonsense. Archie!" He waited a beat or two and then called, "Fritz!" With a disgruntled sigh, he looked around the room again. There was nothing else to occupy him and idleness did not sit well with him, despite his chronic laziness. He picked up the papers again.



State your full name.
He shifted, still uncomfortable in the chair an disliking the activity though it was the only one that offered itself to be done at the moment. He looked around for a pen and found only a quill. He raised it and looked further on the desk, seeking out an inkwell. Upon not finding one, he attempted to write, to test the instrument. When it left a mark, he concluded it must be a new style pen made to look like an old fashioned ink quill. "Nero Wolfe," he wrote, "though I would prefer to be addressed as Mr. Wolfe." A thorough answer was important.

1. What is your favorite cheese? Why is it your favorite?

"Favorite?" he said aloud. "Piffle!" He began to write. "Which cheese I prefer entirely depends on the circumstances and the other food accompanying and what is offered to drink." Here, he waxed eloquent on which cheeses best compliment various drinks, turning the page over to continue his dissertation on the subject. Not quite satisfied, but out of space unless he starts another page, he turned the page over again and moves onto the next question.

2. Who would you kill first, Barney or Carrottop?

"Pfui," he said aloud. "I would not bother myself. I would most likely not bother to find out who killed them for less than fifty thousand dollars," he wrote. There were exceptions, rarely, if his ego were stung sufficiently, but in general, he did not commit murder, rather he solved it.

3. What time is it where you are?

He drew a pocket watch from his vest and frowned at it a moment before snapping it closed and returning it to his pocket. "11:27 AM" he wrote. An hour and a half until lunch. He would be very cross if his lunch were delayed. There was Shad Roe and the duck a l'orange he had been able to smell starting to cook. He should have gone into the kitchen to check on it, but his routine demanded that he enter the office at eleven to go over the mail and give Archie his assignments for the day.

4. If you were Albus Dumbledore returned from the dead, which member of the Order of the Phoenix would you sexually harass? How would you harass them? If you are Albus Dumbledore, please answer as if you were Sirius Black.

"Pfui," he said again. A paleness to his complexion appears and he shifts in his seat. Women repel him. All creatures of passions foreign to him, or perhaps too familiar, he never quite explains. "None!" he writes firmly on the paper, not that he knows or cares who the people mentioned are.

5. If you are pushing to be in:

A. Slytherin - please state the clever, witty name of the bar in which you bartend, in the dark.

"I wouldn't." he wrote, not bothering with vocalizing his contempt of the question.

B. Gryffindor – Debate whether Harry should ultimately end up married to Fred or George. Use examples from a variety of world mythologies to bolster your argument.

"I say therefore to the unmarried and widows, It is good for them if they abide even as I." he wrote, not bothering with the rest of the quote or its context. Marriage was repellent enough, but between men? And three of them. After a moment, he cited the quote as being "Paul in the first Letter to the Corinthians, Chapter 7"

C. Ravenclaw – You guys are supposed to be smart. Explain why my desk is inundated with paperwork at all times, even though I’m constantly disposing of it.

"Confound it with these nonsense names and suppositions," he said, tossing the quill to the table with the papers. He clasped his hands over his girth and glared at the paper. Yet, it galled his pride to leave anything undone. He glared at the quill and paper until it left him with no choice but to pick up the quill again and finish the questions. "Your assistant is an incompetent nincompoop."

D. Hufflepuff – Prove you are not useless.

Wolfe slammed the quill on the table. "I will not be subject to such an insult any longer. I demand to be released from this inane prison immediately!"

6. Offer a bribe to the members of this community so that they will not squib you. Items used in bribery do not necessarily have to belong to the person offering the bribe. Do not threaten us rather than offering a bribe. A threat indicates you either don't really want to be here, or don't have enough sense to answer the question properly. The hat will automatically squib you, regardless of other votes, if you do.

"Poppycock," he said, sitting back in the chair, his hands again clasped over his bulk, his eyes closed.

"I have read the hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. _____NW_______
I have read the hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. ____NW_______.
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. _____NW______.
One day, marmalade will rule the world. ______NW_______"

Comments

[i-am-harkonnen.livejournal.com]

The Baron knew quite well that the food was good- he'd arranged for it, after all, and didn't require any comments to affirm what he already knew. Mopsy had even selected an ideal wine to go along with it on her own- he'd gotten her trained well at that, too.

"I teach something called 'Muggle Studies'- it is an absurd 'wizarding' name for sociology, focused on all the cultures of the planet that are not 'wizards'. It's actually very entertaining. I presume someone might have mentioned that this is a rather silly place, with an unusual culture based upon what they call magic. It's something that I presumed a fancy of make-believe until I found myself here. If you're here, you are capable of it. It's quite useful." It definitely saved time, a bit of hollering at servants, and solved issues like undersized chairs. "The schedules are lax is because there is no structure here beyond the 'Sorting' that happens when people arrive. There are no requirements for people to attend classes, and so it's a bit pointless to have them frequently. It's all quite baffling, as something must be funding this place, and therefore, has an interest. But who's doing the funding or what that interest is remains well-hidden."

[gourmetwolfe.livejournal.com]

Wolfe listened to the explanation, making various faces, ranging from disbelief to curiosity to irritation in turn.

"So, this is just a menagerie, then," he said after a moment's thought. "A farce of a 'school' to entertain someone." Just how they watched, though, was beyond the technology he was aware of. "Pfui," he decided and continued eating.

[i-am-harkonnen.livejournal.com]

Wolfe's reactions to the Baron's explanations were only to be expected. But, the explanation was necessary to lead into further discourse- the Baron had of course noted that Wolfe appeared to be in the information business from his application, which might be useful. "A farce, indeed- but to what purpose is what I want to know. Someone might be entertained- and indeed, the 'Muggles' enjoy something called Reality Television, in which they place people in situations purely to be amused by their behaviors. But, there's no indication that this is something similar." Not that he didn't intend to subject a class to a Reality TV experiment soon enough- it still didn't alter the fundamental purpose (or lack of it) of the school. The Baron returned his attention to his food a moment before continuing, "All information available suggests that at one time- in the not too distant past- this was considered a functional and respectable school. But, something has happened in recent years to alter that. I'd be quite pleased to learn just what happened and just who is supervising this place- it is not, as some might have told you, a Hat, although this Hat does exist. It's a representative- it forwards school matters to a Board of Governors."

[gourmetwolfe.livejournal.com]

Wolfe held television in contempt. The only time he used it was as a screen for if he was being spied upon, and even them it was detestable. The thought of something called 'reality television' was even more contemptible. "I will not be forced to perform like some buffoon on a stage," he growled. "This Hat fellow, is he the only one who has access to this Board? Has anyone else, to your knowledge, been able to contact them." There were few things he wouldn't try to get back to his own home.

[i-am-harkonnen.livejournal.com]

Vladimir's main issue with television was not enough blood- had he gotten movies at Hogwarts, his gripe with even the bloodiest of those would have been the lack of reality. Reality television programs were his favorite, as even though they lacked the visceral entertainment he so enjoyed, he could still appreciate what was, in essence, an arena of social manipulation and frequent humiliation. "No one's going to force you to do a damn thing- if there was someone doing this, it might make discerning the identity of this Board easier. It's almost an anarchy, but constrained by a very curious condition. You wouldn't believe if I told you." It took awhile for him to accept that the no-kill spell unquestionably existed, but, now that he'd seen one of his favorite students get shot point-blank in the head and yet not die, nor bear any obvious injury from the incident, it wasn't possible to question it. He even had it on videotape, and it wasn't a misfire. It had happened, then it hadn't.

"I've not heard of or experienced any other method of contacting this Board of Directors aside from the Hat. Some might say that this could suggest that Board is a fabrication by the Hat, but when you encounter this Hat, you'll see why this seems unlikely. The Hat is not a fellow- it's a hat. It's the oddest bit of technology I've ever seen."

[gourmetwolfe.livejournal.com]

"They have already forced me out of my home, whoever 'they' are. While I do know many who would delight in such a feat, none of them have succeeded very long." Much to Inspector Cramer's dismay. He drummed his fingers against the table as a unit. "I have seen near anarchy and I resent it. It is a fester on society, the result of foolishness in the hierarchies that are meant to prevent it." While not being deliberately provocative, Wolfe has little respect for governments that do not properly govern. He has survived war in an army that lost most of its members in a retreat. For a well operating, properly function government, he has respect, or perhaps merely tolerance.

He frowned. "A hat? Pfui. Why refer to puppetry and ventriloquism as technology?" Because, obviously, if the hat moved and spoke, it had to be manipulated.

[i-am-harkonnen.livejournal.com]

"Although my vanity would have me enjoy the belief that my numerous qualities were so desirable to some powerful and malevolent agency that they abducted me from my home and some very important work, I haven't found any information whatsoever to support this theory. So, it would be a theory of pure vanity, and thus, worthless. Like any man of my profession, I also resent anarchy. And, although the school it currently under it, it was not always this way, and, I'd be curious to know if there's been some gap in bureaucracy that's caused a bit of an oversight." He smiled slightly, returning his attention to the food, and musing over his own reasons for his interest. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to be sent home anymore- certain unsettling encounters had suggested that it might not prove very pleasant. And, he was still enjoying himself at Hogwarts, and wasn't in the mood to end what had been proving an extremely pleasurable vacation. Vladimir wanted to know who was on the Board of Directors to usurp one, or ideally two of them, along with another, much prettier Wolfe, as elevated positions were sure to have their benefits.

He took a moment to answer Wolfe, still distracted by his food. "Advanced puppetry and ventriloquism is a form of technology. There are no strings attached to this hat. One possibility would involve some sort of conductive fibers, responding to either a remote operator, or, to its own programming. It may be a very strange-looking 'thinking machine'. In which case, it could be acting purely upon directives fed to it by a programmer, or, it could be acting upon directives derived from information it has gathered and assimilated according to previous directives. A thinking machine designed to gather its own information without restraint could potentially learn to think for itself." This had happened some 10,000 years before the Baron's time, leading to the banning of all 'thinking machines'. Humans made better ones. "Which means that it may amount to nothing more than a talking hat," he added dryly, smirking as he refilled his wineglass, returning his attention to it and his food again.

[gourmetwolfe.livejournal.com]

Wolfe made a sound. "You would have me to believe, sir, not only that a piece of headgear rules the school, but also that machines can think? Machines can only do as they are instructed to do. To think is the realm of man, not of machine. God does not dwell in the machine," he said sourly. "Or in head gear," he added.

But, food was still before him. He couldn't remain sour for long. He turned his attention back his meal. "At least they manage to have acceptable food here," he said, somewhat mollified by that.

[i-am-harkonnen.livejournal.com]

"I've already stated that I do not believe this Hat 'rules' the school- I surmise it is a representative, and its autonomy is questionable. I do, however, believe that machines can think if their instructions are to do so. And I also believe that men do it better. 'Know' would be a better word that believe in both statements- but, in order for you to accept it, you would have to accept my place of origin, which you are unlikely to at this point. I will say, however, that God dwelling in a machine is concept which has caused an entire civilization to adhere to a commandment written into its primary religion. 'Thou shalt not make a machine in the likeness of a human mind.'" Vladimir didn't think much of religion, and personally found thinking machines interesting, if somewhat unsettling. They were somewhat unsettling to everyone in his culture, due to the Butlerian Jihad, an event that had nearly caused the extinction of humanity. Which was why he'd never broken the rule. The punishments were far too steep.

"I've spent time instructing my servant as to my expectations- I would not presume all of the food here is acceptable, unless delivered to my table by my own servant. It would be most accurate to state that some of the food here is acceptable." Vladimir clarified for Wolfe. "I'd always recommend ordering it yourself to ensure its acceptability." As Wolfe seemed to find the concept of a thinking machine difficult, he was bound to find the idea of enchanted food even more absurd. So, Vladimir left the warning vague- it would be Wolfe's mistake not to listen.

[gourmetwolfe.livejournal.com]

Wolfe let the comments about the leadership of the Hat and 'thinking machines' filter into his mind for now. He did not comment on them, though that did not mean he was not thinking over them.

"I will have to inspect the kitchens," he said on the matter of food. He despised not having access to them, as he was a well known chef in his own right. "I am particular about my ingredients," he added. He shifted in his rather uncomfortable seat.

[i-am-harkonnen.livejournal.com]

"I am certain that an inspection of the kitchens is easily arranged. Any of the servants could take you there. I've glanced inside myself, but only a glance. It's a large kitchen, and they obviously have access to good ingredients and use them when told to, or I'd have an issue with the cooking. Do you know something about kitchens, then?" The Baron didn't know much about kitchens- he just knew how to motivate their staff to do a good job. Mopsy didn't need to know that he'd actually have been quite hesitant to 'dismiss' her over a single mistake. It kept her work high-quality.

The Baron noted Wolfe's discomfort- he didn't have a personal concern about it as it wasn't his own discomfort, but, thought it a good opportunity to point out that magic wasn't entirely ridiculous. It had its uses. He pulled out his wand and muttered the same incantation he'd used on his own chair, adjusting its proportions to better accommodate Wolfe.

[gourmetwolfe.livejournal.com]

"I am a chef as well as a gourmand," Wolfe replied without modesty or pride. It was a statement of fact. "My services have been requested by ambassadors and heads of state." Though, it would have been more of a compliment had one of those ambassadors not insulted his cooking by murdering a head of state while pulling Wolfe from the comfort of his home and then hiding behind 'diplomatic immunity' and preventing Wolfe from appeasing his bruised ego.

He glanced at the chair as it shifted, frowning deeply at it. Though, for most, a 'deep frown' would have required more than a pulling down of the lips a half an inch. In his experience, chairs did not adjust themselves. If a chair was uncomfortable for his bulk, it would remain so. He glanced at the Baron again, examining the stick in his hand visually across the table. "So, the popular image of wizards waving around sticks and muttering in bad Latin is true?" he asked.

[i-am-harkonnen.livejournal.com]

"You are a chef? Cooking is an admirable art- there are a few other chefs here as well. One is quite young, a prodigy of sorts." Vladimir of course approved of proper cooking, and would have thought to introduce Wolfe to A at some point in hopes of recieving some well-made dishes in return. He suspected this would be a bad idea, however, as A, despite his talent with food, did not tend to socialize very well. Chances were, it would just be a disaster.

The Baron shrugged unknowingly as he returned his wand to his robes. "Is that the popular image? Where I am from, we simply presumed things like magic did not exist, and, there was no popular image of a 'wizard'." There was definitely a popular image of a 'witch', but, most people knew that what the Bene Gesserit did wasn't actually 'magic'. It did look like it, now and again, but, there definitely weren't sticks or incantations involved. "The wands look ridiculous, but they are functional. Unfortunately, no one has been able to explain the technology, and I'm not sure if they entirely understand it themselves." If they did, they probably could have come up with something that looked a bit less silly than wands. "And, speaking of ridiculous, I'm technically supposed to recommend a 'House' for you." He smirked, obviously finding this about as silly as the wands.

[gourmetwolfe.livejournal.com]

"I am," Wolfe replied, again without pride or false humility. "I would be interested in meeting other chefs as I have met another gourmand in addition to yourself.

"As I have no intention on staying, I don't see how matters which of these 'houses' you recommend for me." He looked at his chair again. "Though the image is ridiculous, if the results you have achieved can be reproduced with reliability, then it may be worth my while to be here," he grumbled.

[i-am-harkonnen.livejournal.com]

"There's a man called Kaga who holds competitive cooking events on occasion- I haven't seen one of these culinary battles, but, the concept sounds amusing." He'd had dinner with Kaga once, and recalled that the idea had sounded interesting- he'd offered his services as a judge if ever he did manage to arrange a contest at Hogwarts. Perhaps Nero Wolfe's arrival would increase the chances of one, as it sounded like a mild but pleasant sort of diversion. Provided the chefs were any good. The Baron prided himself on his skill at reading into personalities, and, Nero Wolfe's culinary potential struck him as excellent- the man's attitude toward food suggested a perfectionism which boded well for his abilities.

"I didn't intend to stay either, but, I'm still here. And it's not that bad." Some parts of Hogwarts were even delightful, namely a few of the residents. "I'd recommend either Slytherin, my own house, or Ravenclaw. They all have absurd names. Slytherin seems to have the majority of the sensible minds. But the Ravenclaw tower has windows, unlike Slytherin, which is underground. I don't think you'd want Hufflepuff or Gryffindor- my dear assistant's in Hufflepuff, and has a dismal opinion of it. And, Gryffindor seems to be filled with the loud, self-proclaimed 'hero' types." Vladimir figured it likely that Wolfe would find those types as annoying as he did. He was willing to vote Wolfe into whichever house he preferred, although it wasn't as if anyone's votes seemed to matter.

[gourmetwolfe.livejournal.com]

Wolfe was known to drive even his own cook to distraction with his perfectionism and peculiarities. "I believe I have met this Kaga. He mentioned that the chefs were only given one hour to prepare a meal. He seemed to think this adequate time to prepare multiple courses. He seems intent to prove this can be done." Wolfe's tone indicated that he clearly did not think so.

He frowned a bit at the mention of houses. He strongly doubted a school like this had elevators in it and he'd probably not have the option of installing one. While the lack of windows was off putting, he replied, "I do not see the point in exerting myself unnecessarily. The one with fewest stairs," he replied.

Vote : Slytherin

[i-am-harkonnen.livejournal.com]

"One hour for an entire meal? That's it?" He sounded as if he didn't believe this either, not without magic involved. Magic seemed to greatly improve efficiency. "They must have the ingredients prepared in advance. Else, it would seem impossible to create a quality meal in such little time."

Although his suspensors relieved him entirely of the effort of walking, Vladimir could certainly understand a desire for as few stairs as possible. Had he been inclined to any form of exercise outside of the bedroom, the suspensors wouldn't have been a requirement. "A sensible consideration. In that case, I'll vote you into my own house. But there's nothing to be said for the decor, and you're not required to stay there. This whole 'Sorting' nonsense is as pointless as it appears." Vladimir hadn't much liked the Slytherin dungeon- there was too much green, and, the lack of windows impressed the smallness of the castle. Hogwarts was tiny by Imperial standards- there were cities on the Baron's homeworld that were compressed into massive buildings spanning many miles in size.

Re: Vote : Slytherin

[gourmetwolfe.livejournal.com]

"That is what he said, when he spoke with me. He did not speak of preparation, only that a particular ingredient must be in all the dishes prepared." He shook his head.

"If the decor can be adjusted," he grumbled. While he did not object to green, but he preferred yellow and black. By that, he should probably be sorted into Hufflepuff, but there are a lot of stairs. "And, if this is pointless, why must I be subjected to it."

Re: Vote : Slytherin

[i-am-harkonnen.livejournal.com]

"Perhaps there shall be an opportunity to witness this seemingly impossible feat- but until I see it, I won't believe it can be done. Not unless all the ingredients are prepared first. And I'd hope this ingredient need not be the primary one for all of the dishes, as, that would seem a rather dull meal." He supposed a very boring meal might be accomplished in an hour by conventional means.

"It can be adjusted, and the rooms adjust themselves to their inhabitants after a while. Don't ask me to explain this, as I can't. Suffice it to say, even spatial rearrangement and textile-related molecular manifestation appears possible." His lavish bathroom, which more resembled a small Roman bath than any conventional bathroom, had seemingly conjured itself, and his closet behaved like others he'd heard of at the school. "As for the reason for this 'Sorting'- at the moment, there is none. It appears to be leftover from the days when the school was functioning, and these weren't the ancient past. At one time, the students here were of proper student-age, and, the Houses indicated both where they lived, and a competitive group of sorts. The Houses were named after the founders of the school, and they would compete against each other in athletics, amongst other things. There was a point system between the houses based upon athletics, academics, and behavior." He'd read Hogwarts, A History, of course.