Boss grooms new employee to be his personal sex slave.
All I had to do was make it three more hours. My boss stands in front of us chanting “blah, blah, blah” at me and about twenty other co-workers, pointing a metal rod at some graph that makes absolutely no sense to me right now. This will be the third day I’ve had no sleep. I’m dizzy, starving, bored and beginning to hallucinate. The white walls begin to warp and twist into humanesque faces. My boss’ height begins altering slightly. The boardroom seats start becoming carnivorous, noshing slowly on my butt cheeks. I giggle aloud for no reason, and it takes me a few moments to realize that my boss has ceased talking and now everyone is looking at me.
“Mr. Yan, take a few minutes and get some coffee from the front desk, hum?” My boss states in a near-monotone voice, folding the rod up and placing it down on the large oak conference table.
“Uh? Oh, sorry, Mr. Willard, I’m afraid I’m rather ill today.” I wanted him to tell me to go home early, but with my boss, that was like asking the U.S. Government to give Saddam Hussein a tactical nuke for his birthday.