What in the name of Kinko's crotch is this shit doing in my warehouse? You send that shit back! If I see that lying around when I get back, Hell will be a basket of kittens compared to me.

I don't care how you do it, but that shit better be out of my sight by the time I return from coffee. I don't want to hear what receiving said, and I don't give a shit what the purchase order says. If that shit isn't out of my face by 10:30, I'll slap a UPS tag on your ass and ship you to freakin' Upshitcreekistan.

Listen junior, I'm a very reasonable man. I'm sure that these mix-ups happen all the time at the "other" companies. But as understanding as I am, I'm not going to walk into the VPs office and tell him that one of my screw-ups managed to make me look bad. That shit don't fly. That shit won't even leave the ground, unless it is launched from the toe of my boot.

I ain't paying you to come up with excuses, mister. The last time I looked, your job description didn't include fecal marketing or bullshit artistry. You are here because you have previously proven yourself capable of performing the most work with the least amount of bullshit. But if you and your team can't make this shit disappear, I'll drop my pants right now and start shitting pink slips.