I scowl down at the crumpled, lifeless body of my former boss and think to myself: he's not getting away this easy.
I stride back to my desk and unholster my umbrella, glaring at my surroundings. I crack my neck and shoulder muscles with one long, slow roll of my head, from right to left. Bringing it back to center with a low grunt, I turn on my heel and return to the body.
After a moment of teeth grinding I take a firm grip on my weapon and proceed to whack him between the legs repeatedly. He groans back to life in a mildly satisfying manner.
"I'm not dead yet?"
"No, you're not," I reply.
"But I thought I had breathed my last breath?"
"Yes well, it wasn't in quotes so it couldn't be true, now could it?" I punctuate my point with an angry umbrella jab to the groin.
"You killed me and now you've brought me back to life to torture me!" The sound of his whiny voice is infuriating.
"Technically, you killed yourself," I mutter. "But let's not bicker and argue over who killed who." I reverse my grip on the umbrella and crack him over the head with the handle.
"Why are you doing this?"
"It's raining." Whack. "And windy." Whack. "And I had three buses pass me by this morning because they were already full." Jab. "And I didn't get enough sleep last night, so I'm not dealing with any of it very well." Slice, bonk, thud.
This carries on for several more hours before I realize he has stopped breathing again. I sigh and return to my desk and open an internet browser, hoping to find something to distract me from this pig sty of a day.