Colleagues

2 Aug

Matt Webb

What is this?

This warm, brown liquid?

I am almost certain that I requested a cup of tea.

Milk, one sugar.

This tastes almost compost-like.

There is a definite suggestion of rotting vegetation.

I can’t even think what there is in the kitchen that you could have used to make it taste this way.

I’m almost impressed.

You are demonstrating some kind of remarkable alchemical skill, bordering on magical.

I’ll drink it.

But that doesn’t mean I like it.

Oh, now this is a flavour I can definitely place.

Salt instead of sugar this time?

Hilarious.

I hope you realise that you are starting a cycle of revenge attacks that you will not have the ability to control.

I’m going to staple all of your filing together.

I’m going to glue all your belongings to your desk.

I’m going to pour soup in your handbag.

I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I do know that patience is the key.

I will wait until you least expect it.

Vengeance will be mine!

What are you crapping on about now?

No, I don’t know when they deliver the fish.

Hang on.

When WHO delivers the fish?

There are set days for fish deliveries?

Really?!

Huh.

What’s a valance?

A what??

Do you really need one of those?

Ok, so buy it.

No, really, just buy it.

I’m sure your boyfriend will be happy enough with whichever one you choose.

No, really, that one looks fine.

Just buy it.

Just buy it.

Just BUY it.

JUST F**KING BUY IT, GOD DAMN IT!

OK, THEN DON’T BUY IT, JUST STOP TALKING TO ME ABOUT IT!

So, you’re sick today.

Yes, I can tell that you’re sick.

At least, I can tell that you want me to think you’re sick.

I don’t know, something to do with that croaky frog voice you’re putting on.

If it’s that bad, go home.

Go home.

Go home.

Either go home or stop telling me how sick you are.

If the croaky voice and zombie walk you’re doing are the real symptoms of your sickness then I don’t want to catch it.

It’s not that I don’t care…

Actually, it IS that I don’t care.

I believed you the first few times.

But now I think you should probably be in hospital.

Or just stop lying to me.

Either way.

Anyway.

It’s Friday.

So shush.

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