The Change of Management

"Team, please welcome Mr Culver to the office. He will be the new branch director for the next financial year."

The boardroom was completely still as the middle aged man in an expensive looking black suit came forward to the chair, shaking Mr Collins' hand firmly before taking his place. It was a moment of dread for the company. Ever since the recent drop on performance issues, a lot of questions were asked by the head office and they saw it fit that our beloved Mr Collins was no longer useful enough to keep on. So, they had him replaced by this stuck up looking fat prick of a baldy. I had already passed my judgement on him a few days ago when he arrived for his initial inspection rounds. All he did was walk around and ogle at the women in the office, peering into cubicles and disrupting the work with senseless questions. I had the misfortune to run into the guy on the day and all he seemed to do was greet me before looking me up and down like I was a piece of meat. I had the right mind to punch the creep in the face before reporting him for harassment, reminding me of the reason why I had my stresses in the first place. The only reason why I didn't do it was because I needed this job. Accusing the top brass of such a thing was a big issue, and knowing how my office worked, nothing would be done anyway. Seeing his ugly mug once more put me in a foul mood but I smiled nonetheless and clapped along with the 2 dozen or so colleagues who all wore the same kind of expressions I did. That fake sense of disgruntle that was the same to the kind of thoughts we had about how poor the workplace had been managed.

"Hello..." The pretentious prick spoke in a low tone, "It is a pleasure to finally be here to lead you. I'm sure we will get along as we work together for the next year."

The speech dragged for another 10 minutes before everyone could finally get back to work. There was a lot to do. All of the departments were a mess and we all had to work double time to make ends meet. We were on the verge of office anarchy with how things have been run, and it got even closer to an explosive walk out when the announcement for department changes was sent to every desk via in office email. We all thought that the struggle was already real enough as it was, as we had no confidence that Mr PeePee, short for Pretentious Prick, would do enough to stop the company from tanking. I was in my cubicle, slamming away at my keyboard and wishing Frank was here to give me some renewed stress relief when my email pinged off. Muttering something beneath my breath to keep my cool, I opened it in a most begrudgingly hasty manner.