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Floyd Barber, Motivational Warehouse Supervisor

Again, it seems your cavalierism has gotten my attention, and you find yourself sitting in my office awaiting my judgement. This is getting to be tiring for me, for you, and definitely for this organization. Pretty soon you're going to find yourself on a world of shit that even Scotty couldn't beam you off of.

I'm not sure if you've read the book Men Are From Mars, And The Boss's Daughter Is From Venus, but I'll give you the short summary right now: Stay the hell off of Venus!

I'm giving you a warning this time, because I can see that you are already on a path to self-destruction with your casual workplace attitude, and I'd rather it was me doing the firing than having the big man come down on your ass like a wrathful God at a smoting party.

Boy, are you so thick behind the ears that it's impossible for you to wear sunglasses? Do you realize how close you are to becoming the captain of the Employment Insurance Ski Team?

No, I didn't think so.

Son, that young woman's reputation doesn't need to be jeopardized by a slack-assed, unmotivated warehouse jockey like yourself. God knows that if something "happened," and Mr. Big was forced to appoint his future son-in-law to a responsible position within this company, that job would likely fall to me. We don't need to scry into that future, because I'll smash the crystal ball over your head before you could even look into next week.

Do us both a favour, and turn your blue-collar charms onto someone self. I'm certain there are plenty of low-brow females that would find your puerile antics amusing--at least until their maturity sensors kicked in.

Are you even listening? Because it wouldn't take much for me to ask Mr. Pen to visit his good friend Mr. Pink Slip.

Do the right thing and take heed of my advice. Otherwise I'm sending you to the doctor, because someone will need to give you a healthy dose of reality.

Floyd's Archive Of Wisdom