"Oh! Have a job, do we? What, pray tell, do we do?" Jack lifted his eyebrows and crossed his arms over his chest. He was, indeed, mocking the guy. But he couldn't help it. Not one little bit.
"Are you a fanshy smance lawyer? Oh, I know. You're a stock broker aren't you? The CEO of a large and wealthy company just like this one, and you're here doing your own dirty work in corporate espionage. Because nobody will recognize you. Because they all think that you're some old fart with a big fluffy beard and a bright red sui... no. No, that's Santa. You're not Santa are you?"
Jack peered at the guy and decided that no, there was a distinct lack of pudge and jolly for this guy to be Santa. Also, he was fairly sure that Santa took the reindeer with him where ever he went. Because that's what Jack would do.
"Tell me, kiddo, what's your trade, your calling, your jahizzy job?"