Tuesday, 19 April 2005


Murphy was a varlet. Everyone called him a scoundrel, but I wanted to be original, so I used my thesaurus and came up with varlet. It was perfect for two reasons. First, because he was so annoying. And second, because he would have brushed our boss's teeth if it would have improved his chances of getting promoted.

My first day of satisfaction occurred when I simply wrote the word "varlet" on a scrap of paper and slipped it under his office door. Murphy had left early, with plans to play golf with the V.P. of Finance. I swear that Murphy would sell his grandmother to a medical lab, while she was still breathing, for raise. I bet he had to look up the word in a dictionary. I bet he first thought it was a complement.

After the note, I started using his mug and leaving it half full of coffee in odd places--long enough that the milk would congeal and start to smell. Then I'd put it on the president's desk, or out in the lobby, but it was tough to pull that off without getting caught.

Somewhere, deep in my psyche, I knew that I was wrong, insensitive, acting as shamelessly as Murphy, but I couldn't help myself. Some people just deserve to pay for their actions. And I had the determination to make sure he paid.

After what he did to me.

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