"I'm sorry, it's just, are you Trolley Problem-ing me? This is a job interview."

"I, OK, it's a standard set of questions we ask all candidates."

"What is the intent of this? What are you trying to determine about me?"

"Please, can we just --"

"OK." I look down and pinch the bridge of my nose, theatrically, gathering my forces.

"OK: Trolley Problem."

I take a deep breath and look him in the eyes.

"How did these imaginary people get tied to the tracks?"

"How? I mean, it's a thought experiment it's --"

"Because it seems to me that you put them there."

"Me?"

"Just now. When you framed the problem. You know," air-quotes, "set the scene."

"Um, I mean--"

"Which makes you responsible. If I flip the switch, if I don't flip the switch, it doesn't matter. Because I didn't tie these people to the tracks, you did."

"OK but --"

"Which means you have the power to save them. Or, you know, not."

"This isn't really --" Lapel grab.

"DO IT. SAVE THE TROLLEY PEOPLE OR I'LL SMASH YOUR FUCKING HEAD IN WITH THIS BIKE LOCK."

"AH! FUCK!"

"Just kidding, ha ha. I abhor violence." The lock clatters to the conference table. "I'm a good person."

"But isn't it interesting how everything changes when the violence climbs up out of the fiction and threatens you in Real Life." Air quotes again.

"I--"

"Of course, I wasn't actually going to hurt you. That was just pretend! Fictional violence to prove a philosophical point. See?"

"You're fucking crazy!" backing away, half climbing out of, half tripping over his designer knock-off chair.

"Look, I just saved all the trolley people without hurting anyone. I'm a hero."

"Do I get the job?"