You’re bringing me another TPS form to fill out? Geez, what is this? And let me guess, this is another brilliant idea brought about by our illustrious leader, Mr. Phelps; the man who has the tenacity and the foresight to bring this company screeching to a devastating halt and then slowly burying it into the ground with paperwork. I’m being facetious, you see.

Yeah, but no, you can tell him that. Yeah. Why don’t you tell him that? Tell him that all of this paperwork he is making us do is unnecessary and that we are all doing as he says because his name is on our paychecks so nobody will stand up to his idiocy. Tell him!

Don’t you think it’s a tad absurd that after he took over this company we have been working more and getting less done? A lot of it has to do with the TPS reports, because mostly I think he made them just to feed his massive ego. Somebody should tell him that! I certainly won’t!

But you tell him he is being ridiculous with all this paperwork. You go ahead and tell him that for me. Tell him, “Bertram in Accounts has had enough of your pretentious bullshit,” then come back and tell me what he says to that! I got him there. He won’t have any comeback for that.

Well, somebody ought to tell him that, and I am much too cowardly to do it myself. But I can talk a big game, oh yes sir I can! From the safe confines of my office, with the door shut and my back to the wall so he can’t sneak up on me, I can confidently tell you to tell him that this company is not what it used to be and that he is responsible for it.

The writing’s on the wall!

Because honestly, I don’t think you will do it. I don’t think you will go right up to Phelps and tell him all of this shit that I am laying on you, and in reality, I am hoping that you won’t. God help me if you actually tell Mr. Phelps how much I hate him and his stupid policies. But I know you won’t, but you should know that I am angry about these policy changes and just know that if I were in charge, okay, If I were in charge, this company would be flying high and Phelps would be out on his ass.

I tell you this knowing full well that you have absolutely no pull with this company and cannot make any changes whatsoever. And if you do tell Phelps all of this stuff, he might come sniffing around to fire me, but I will wholeheartedly deny all of it, because I am a total fucking coward who sleeps in the fetal position. Hell, for the first few minutes after you leave my office, I am going to crawl underneath my desk and breathe into a paper bag.

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