Floyd Barber, Motivational Warehouse Supervisor
Well, well, I see we’ve returned from the sick leave that the company generously granted you for your “illness”. It was very kind of them to pay your full wages while you sat around watching The Young And The Witless.
But you know, you might as well get used to lounging around your apartment in your bathrobe, because you’ll have plenty of time to master the art of Slack-Fu when I’ve had you fired.
The health and wellness officer may have accepted your doctor’s note stating you had a stomach infection, but I know god-damned well you were eating the frickin’ styrofoam packinging peanuts again. It doesn’t take a genius to figure this out when there is a shaker-full of sourcream-and-onion seasoning sitting next to the packaging table.
What the hell kind of crack are you smoking in my loading bays? Did your mother not teach you that polystyrene plastic is not to be ingested? Is swallowing two pounds of company packaging materials supposed to make you a hero? Are you now in some kind of elite warehouse fraternity where membership is based on the ability to consume inedible shipping materials? What’s next? Are you going to suck the CO2 out of my fire extinguishers? Perhaps you’d like to make porridge from a bag of absorbent spill-control material.
You kids are something else.
Perhaps I’ll hold off on giving you the boot; it may be more convenient to let you incapacitate yourself. I think Darwin’s working in your court now.
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