Felicity Wingfield

You are so fucking close to closing this deal.

You're practically salivating over the size of this potential contract. It would be enough steady work to keep 10 of your co-workers for 4-5 years.

They just need to sign on the dotted fucking line.

"We really, really like your bid, Ms Wingfield." One of the three men on the other side of the meeting table says. "And thank you so much for coming in today. We just have a meeting with Amy from KPMG and then we'll make our final decision."

No fucking way.

"You mean Amy Ponari?" You ask politely.

"Yes, that's the one."

No way are you losing this bid to Amy fucking Ponari. That bitch waltzed into your Christmas party last year and suddenly nobody's eyes was on your immaculate figure any more, they were all glancing at Amy's humungous tits and pornstar ass. Okay that's a slight exaggeration, but still, she cost you the attention of your crush James Whitaker, and you can never forgive her.

"It's very progressive of you to embrace third wave feminism like that." You begin.

Sorry, principles, but duty calls.

"I'm sorry?" Another of the men asks, confused.

"It's just, you know, her reputation." You continue, preparing some carefully crafted half-truths in your mind. "I'm not saying she's incompetent, I'm just saying that her competencies are somewhat more... Niche."

"I'm sorry?" One man asks.

"She slept her way to the top." You say, as if you're surprised they don't know that the Earth is round.

"She quickly seduced and slept with her first manager, Tom Dartford." After they finished working together.

"She went through half her previous team!" Her team was just two people.

"She's nailing a married man at our firm to this day!" Her own husband who she recently married.

"And the only reason she's Team Lead right now is because she let her current line manager put it up her... you know where." ...If by 'it' I mean her spare USB cable, and by 'you know where' I mean his phone that was low on battery. That's obviously what I meant, right?

"So I just think it's so great that you're considering trusting your firm's future to such a woman. It shows how far we've come as a society. Just because a woman uses her sex appeal to climb to the top, doesn't mean she isn't also, by pure coincidence, really deserving of it!"

You plaster a fake pleasant smile on your face, and whisper "Just don't ask her about her OnlyFans." Because she doesn't have one.

"Yes, well." The third man coughs awkwardly. "Obviously we will consider you both, err, equally, and all that. But I think you'll likely be hearing from us very soon, Felicity."

"We'd love to be the ones to take you on this journey, but of course it's up to you." You say jovially.

It's in the fucking bag! Haha! Fuck you, Amy!

You start to pack up your laptop.

"You should get that charging cable replaced. The rubber has worn away, exposing the cable there." One of the men warns you.

Typical mansplainer.

"Yes, of course, how thoughtful of you to point that out to me." You say sweetly, as you move to pull the cord from the plug socket.

As you do, the rubber is pulled backed further, exposing more of the bare wire. For the briefest of moments, it touches the tip of your finger. There's a bright flash.

The electrocution is almost instant - far too quick for you to have any time to reflect on the irony of being defeated by a dodgy charging cable, just after cruelly manipulating a story about a charging cable to slander an ex-colleague.