Let me correct that for you
Paradox: Hello DDRJake, please sit down.
DDRKJake: Hello Paradox, and thank you.
DDRJake slowly circles around the chair, crouches beneath it and knocks on it lightly in order to estimate its building material; measures the relative length of its legs and the height-to-width ratio of each one; he then does a couple quick mental calculations, grabs a paper clip from the table, completely disassembles the chair with it, pulls out a soldering iron and various titanium metal plates, solders them together with the wooden parts in an unrecognizable but quite sturdy shape; he then walks out of the room whistling a quiet tune, coming back thirty minutes later carrying a gas tank, two car batteries, various assorted metal parts and a live duck. Sits the duck on the desk, where it proceeds to happily quack while looking at the confused interviewer. DDRJake then whips out the soldering iron again and proceeds to attach more and more metal parts to the structure, which within fifteen more minutes is roughly the size and shape of a small baby elephant, before grabbing and attaching the car batteries and soldering the gas tank to the backside [or at least what looks like the backside] of the contraption. He then carefully picks up the duck who's in the process of quacking veiled threats against the Paradox staff, hooks him up to a series of metal cables and a funny-looking tin-sheathed helmet, saddles his legs over the messy-looking metal pile and reclines against a smooth sheath of orthopedic metal solded to the exact angle of his spine
Paradox: I-I'm sorry, what is this?
DDRJake: Oh nothing to worry about. You were saying?
Paradox: W-Well, we were discussing the terms of your employment. I trust everything is to your liking?
DDRJake: Oh yes, thank you.
Paradox: That's... good.
DDRJake: Anyway, I better start working on my desk. Thank you again for hiring me!
DDRJake then waves at the interviewer, pulls a crude-looking lever, and then braces against the metal casing as the metal pile quickly springs to life, lifts itself off the ground on two short, stubby legs, and slowly stumbles out of the room with the rumbling of its motor parts slowly fading in the distance, interrupted only by the occasional echo of a happy quack.
