"Make sure you fold the letters just like this, it will only save seconds but those seconds add up to hours at the end of the day," the woman tells us.
This is ridiculous, I'm sure we can figure out how to fold these letters on our own. I guess the next lesson will be on how to most efficiently put the folded letter into an envelope.
"Now I don't mind you talking but keep those hands moving, each little pause will add up to hours at the end of the day," she says.
You've got to be god damned kidding - we're temps not children you dumb donkey.
Oh hell, did I say that out loud? Oh well, the path has been set now, there can be no turning back.
"You heard me you condescending cow," I say as I turn my chair to face her fully from across the boardroom table. The letters and envelopes for this stupid mailout are stacked high between us but I'm still able to see her bovine eyes narrow.
"This can only mean one thing," she says with a scowl. "We fight to the death -"
"With knives," I say as I rise and pull my weapon from its custom sheath at the small of my back. The blade glistens in the glare of the overhead fluorescent lights and I recognize the look of shock and fear that registers on her face when she realizes who stands across from her. I know that look well.
"You wield the Abused Temp's Revenge!" she says softly.
I smirk as I move to my right and begin to circle the table. She stumbles into an office chair in her hurry to move to her right to gain time and distance. The other temps flatten themselves against the wall and watch with anticipation gleaming in their eyes.
I keep moving as I eye the sorry looking blade in her stubby hands; I don't think it's ever been used. I almost feel sorry for her. Almost.
She bumps into another chair and I strike; I throw myself feet first across the table and kick away her knife as I slide into her. She cries out weakly as I force her against the wall with the Revenge at her throat.
"I'm sorry," she whimpers.
"Well I should hope so," I say with a wicked grin. "Now leave us to our work and never talk down to another temp again."
"You're... you're letting me live?" she says as confusion and relief do battle in her eyes. I watch them struggle back and forth for a few moments while I let her sweat some more.
"Have you learned your lesson?" I ask as the other temps sigh with disappointment and return to their chairs. Blood thirsty lot.
"Yes, absolutely, completely, yes!"
"Then be gone," I say as I put away the bane of terrible temp supervisors everywhere with a flourish. She puts a hand to her throat and slides unsteadily along the wall away from me. When she reaches the door, she turns to leave but I don't let her go that easily. "Oh, one more thing..."
"We're taking a long lunch."