[ WP ] A disgruntled accountant , armed to the teeth with various concealed weapons , finds he was n't the only one with the very same plan for the office today -- far from it , in fact .

I went to itch my leg -- at least, that was what it appeared. Nobody in the office could've guessed that I was checking that my knife was still secure against my calf, ready to be used in the event that one more motherfucker asked me to please `` Make note of that Jon''. I did n't sign up for this job to be a scribe, and I know damn well fucking Steve is perfectly capable of referring to the audio recordings he makes for each of these abominable meetings. Last Tuesday we spent no less than 20 minutes discussing how Styrofoam had become a big issue at the firm. I had been making notes, Steve. Notes about where you like to sneak off when you claim you're too sick for these meetings. Notes about all the smug looks I got when word got out that I did n't get that promotion for the 6th year running. I relaxed back into my chair, the pistols across my stomach no longer punching into my ribs. 
 Steve set his folder down and began his usual spew of useless word puking. `` And Ulyssa, I know I gave you a lot of work to get done this last week. Have you made any progress?'' 
 Something was off. Ulyssas usual stone hard face and grinding teeth were actually a smile for once -- everyone aside from Steve could figure out she worked the hardest of us all. She stood and smoothed her long dress before speaking. `` Why Steve, do you think that I've made any progress? Do you really, truly think that I'd ever do anything around here?'' I noticed that not only I, but most of the others at the meeting shifted as well. The balding man across from me slowly started moving his hands to his beltline -- something was definitely wrong. 
 `` Do you ever think at all Steve? Or you, Adam? Jon? Did you ever once think that people do n't enjoy those shitty mass emails, Jon? Oh and you, Libby. We all know you're the one who keeps taking all the fucking paper clips home you dumb skank. Are you trying to use them to hold your family together, I'm sure you're running out of ideas by now?'' 
 Before I could even look to Libby a ninja star was poking out of Ulyssas thigh and 3 shots came from somewhere in the room. My long sleeve shirt hid the steel covering my forearms, and I was nearly beheaded before I could raise them in protection from Adams sword -- Adam was always clever with how he hid his weapons, but getting a sword into the office? The man was a fucking legend. All legends must end though, and a quick shock from my tazer baton was more than enough to ensure that I would be the one to end his. After removing my blade, I spun to meet a head on rush from Tiffany -- the scheming bitch had this coming -- and flung her over my shoulder through the glass window. A quick look around showed that Ulyssa had done well despite her injuries, a mess of clipboards and briefcases lay in her apparent path and Steve stuck beneath her as she struggled to point the gun toward his head. I would not be robbed of Steve. I pulled my pistol before Libbys crossbow bolt was sticking from Ulyssas back, it was a dangerous move bringing Libbys family into it the way she had this Tuesday. A few shots insured that Libby would give me no problems as I walked through the madness that engulfed what was currently Steves office. Steve, that post-it-note-leaving 5-foot 2-inch bastard. He did n't even see me before my hands were at his throat. I was sure I had had him before his hammer bashed into my knee, we tumbled in a heap with him ending on top of me, the exacto knife popping from the tip of his pen. The man truly did deserve his title as the director of the board -- I held him inches from my throat when the buzzer rang. The clamor around the room began to cease and Steve was wearing that shit eating grin again. I'm never going to get this damn promotion.
