No one should ever describe themselves as a genuine eccentric" she snarled, spitting out chunks of freshly savaged nose out over the desk while simultaneously forcing her monthly progress report into the area where her bosses sinuses used to be.
"But even eccentrics have to knuckle down, put their pedals to the grind stone, I learned that"
She blinked, her boss was still there, face still intact, the Mickey Mouse pencil-holder unblemished by gore and Karen realized that she was not dancing a victory dance with the vile jelly of her employers eyeball dribbling down her USB key. It was unavoidable then, she was actually going to have to try and justify why her last two weeks work consisted of three unlabeled graphs, and 46 sketches of starshaped birthday cakes. It wasn't meant to be like this.
"I know what you’re thinking" he continued
Another mixed metaphor was on its way, and once again she felt the rising wave of despair and the whoosh of what can only be described as the hairdyer of destiny began to suck at her eardrums.