You're a modern day Indiana Jones. You've got the hat, the whip, the cocky attitude, and the rugged good looks. The only thing missing is the mission.

The Mission!

You're relaxing in your office, after teaching an exhausting class of Archaeology 203 with stereotypical uni students (loud, opinionated, and lacking any real focus or experience), and in comes Mr Jim Fortescue from the Government Agency For The Assignment Of Missions to Archaeologists (GAFTAOMA). Jim pulls out a cigarette and is about to light it, but notices the "No Smoking" sign, and with an exasperated sigh at the state of modern story building sucks unsatisfactorily at the cigarette.

Jim sucks discontentedly on his cigarette, the sweat stains spreading across his back from the pressure of having to carry this pathetic story line, "Indy, GAFTAOMA has received news of a possible discovery, and we need you to get onto it immediately.".

"What do you need me to do!?", Indy asks. Of course, Indy knows full well what they want, but the formulaic presentation of this story requires him to ask, and he knows he has to wait for the tension to build, so he waits some more thinking about the ham and cheese sandwich he prepared this morning, and wondering if he'll get to eat it. Probably not, not if Jim stretches this charade on for much longer. That sandwich had provolone, and even a bit of mustard. Fuck, he loved mustard.

"We need you to go and dig up a couple of dinosaur skeletons, in Mongolia. One is a brachiosaurus, and the other is a T-Rex! We received reports, and now we have to go and dig it up and ship it home", Jim says.

"Now, Jim, let's get this straight, you want me to assemble a crack team, and then you want me to fly to Mongolia, and oversee a dig for these two massive dinosaurs?", Indy asked, knowing full well that wasn't what Jim had in mind. They probably already had a multi-PhD Archaeologist with a long publication history, tenure at an Ivy League university, and a multi-national inter-disciplinary team already on site performing the dig. No, they only every came to him when they needed one thing, and one thing only!

"No, Indy! You know what you're needed for!", Jim said, ending the sentence with a preposition, like a bad-ass. And with a dramatic pause, as the sweat stains from the stress of having successfully dragged the story line to this point, gathered at a pool in the small of his back, Jim pulled his briefcase up off the floor, and slammed it down onto the table.

Jim then flicked open the case with a satisfying "thock", and carefully opened it. "Indy, we need you to fill out the application for the import of a T-Rex tooth from the dig!". And with that, Jim dropped the USB stick containing the application document onto Indy's desk.

"And to make you feel like a real Archaeologist you can play with these toys!", Jim said.

"Fair enough, Jim.", Indy said, knowing he wouldn't be able to enjoy his ham and cheese sandwich. If only it was like in the movies, with the jumping, and the swinging, and the whip. That's what he got for getting ambitious and using provolone.