Feel my wrath, suckers! Jefferson was about to close this meeting and release you dim witted sheep back to your cubicles, but guess who willfully extended it with one more question? Me, that’s who! Guess what else I’m extending. My middle finger! To your face!
You probably thought Jefferson covered everything when he repeated himself fifteen different ways. You probably thought there was no way you would be able to stay awake through this hellscape of a meeting. I relish your drowsy ennui, buttnecks.
Just when it looked like he was gonna wrap it up, BAM! I swoop in like a terror in the night with a carefully crafted additional question to keep us all in here a few minutes longer.
Oh, how you seethe. I feel your eyes on me. But your looks are nothing. Nothing! Haha!
My face is a mask of quizzical concern that soothes Jefferson into talking for maybe ten minutes. He is convinced that I really do care how last quarter’s projections were calculated differently. But guess what: I don’t give a single shit. I just wanted to extend this sales meeting.
I say “Ha!” to your dumb face, jerks. And I’ll do it again next week. Dread it. Fear it. But you cannot escape it!