The MD
With the swaggering gait of a self-assured cock-about-town he prowls the office, surveying the small empire he built upon the blood, sweat and tears of countless designers, developers, marketers and an ever-changing, expendable unit of salesmen. His thoughts briefly drift to those sacrificed for his cause in the Round of the Redundancies, but just long enough to deliver a motivational speech to the survivors on how they've "really moved the business forward". The shallow words fall upon deaf ears. The motley crew that are left have heard it all before, coupled with promises of riches that were never given and improvements to working conditions never implemented.

He moves on, unable to hide the facial ticks and incessant sniffing that betray the Bolivian influence to his corporate strategy. It doesn't matter to him. It has worked thus far and secured a buy-out from a bigger, more experienced army. His spoils of war are rich and plentiful. He will bow out wealthy and content as those left behind are forced to uproot from the shiny lights of the City to the concrete monstrosity that is Slough.

The boy done good.
(Rilux might be pregnant and has bum-aids, Fri 19 Jun 2009, 10:28, Reply)