Sh*t Needs Done

Inbox (1438)

I stared gloomily at the unread count of mails in my inbox and made cow chewing motions with my jaw. 1438 mails. Fecking hell. Can't a man take a month off without coming back to this shit?

Anything happen whilst I was away?

I asked of the depressed looking colleague across from me.

He looked up and shook his head sadly.

Nothing ever happens here, you know that.

I sighed, yeah, I knew. I got my head down and started the joyous task of trawling through my email mountain.

The minutes drifted by like hours.

A shadow fell over my desk. I didn't even bother to look up.

Boomdawg!

El Jefe.

The boss bounded round beside me and perched on the edge of my desk. It creaked alarmingly and tilted slightly. I tensed, waiting for it to come crashing down like a deck of cards but it held.

El Jefe grinned like a flirtatious orangutan and grabbed my arm, lifting it up to the light and turning it this way and that.

Where's the sun tan then?

I didn't go away, I was off on paternity leave.

I know that Boomster! I was pulling your leg!

He punched me playfully on the arm. I contemplated ripping his arm from the socket and drinking from the torn end of it like a Viking would with a horn of ale.

El Jefe leaned in close.

Everything go smoothly then? Baby... alright, no lumps or... bumps?

I gazed back impassively.

Everything went swimmingly. Thank you for asking.

I had no idea what the lumps or bumps bit was all about, was he asking if my baby was deformed?

El Jefe beamed with pride as if he had deposited the sperm and delivered the resulting baby himself.

Excellent, excellent! Well, it's good to have you back. Very good. Very good indeed...

He looked around as if searching for ninja assassins in the long grass.

I will be straight with you boomster. A lot has happened whilst you have been away. A. Lot.

He gestured expansively with his hands.

We have a lot of shit to get through. We need to get it out of the way and need it out the way fast.

He paused dramatically.

I will forward on all the stuff to you. This shit needs done sharpish. Ok?

I leaned back in my chair and stroked my chin thoughtfully.

Let me get this straight. Someone needs a shit?

I made a clown face and raised my hands into pistols and fired them at him - piaaow piaaow!

He stiffened and radiated a cold and freezing disdain.

I will send the stuff on.

He turned and flounced off.

I went back to my gazillion emails trying my best not to giggle until he was out of earshot.