The last real jobby-job I ever worked one of my coworkers boxed up my CAD monitors and shipped them to a worksite because she fucked up the work order. I'd fuckin' sat across from Tess for a year, made her coffee, taught her how to do shit. Tess knew that her boyfriend was taking my job in two weeks, and knew she could fucking get away with it. I didn't find out for another three days. Then they all decided I should have a going-away party and none of them showed up. Let's be very clear about something: I don't care how much you love your job? I don't care how valued you feel? THE FACT THAT YOU ARE DEFENDING THIS SHIT EVEN A TINY LITTLE BIT shows that you're fucking infected. Your world needs to BURN. It's been thirteen FUCKING years but you just elevated my heart rate by thirty fucking points, mutherfucker.