Work Related

Chris was getting really tired of listening to the Bear's complaints. He despised his latest office job and he hated all of his co-workers, but the Bear was the worst.

"Nobody cares", muttered Whiny the Boo-Hoo Bear. Chris ignored him.

"Nobody cares", repeated Boo, just a little louder.

One more time, louder still.

Boo looked over at where Christopher Sobbin pretended to be engrossed in an Excel spreadsheet. Chris was trying to make his picks for this week's football pool, but that goddamn fucking bear was distracting the shit out of him.

I never should have taken this job, thought Chris. This place is full of fucked-up people, more than I'm used to- and I'm used to a lot.

"Nobody CARES", went Boo-Hoo, managing to be both pitiful and loud.

"Jesus fucking nailholes!”, exclaimed Christopher, "what the fuck is wrong this time?"

"I forgot my password"

"Again? Dammit...hold on."

Chris wrote something on a post-it note and handed it to the bear.

"Here's your damn password. Don't lose it this time."

"It doesn't work anymore- nothing ever goes right for me”, sighed the insufferable ursine irritant. "Mr. Rabbid said he was gonna fix my computer real good before he left, but it hasn't worked right since he quit."

"Rabbid didn't quit. He got fired. Because you told Mr.Owl about his thing with Cutlet."

Chris wasn't sure what exactly happened between Mr. Rabbid, who was at least 40, and Cutlet, a chubby intern of indeterminate age and gender, but it was ugly enough to get Rabbid fired and Cutlet transferred to Marketing. Chris hoped that by mentioning it, Boo would spill the beans, but the annoying fucker was too wrapped up in his bearish self-pity to engage in gossip.

"Here, Bear. Let me take a look." Chris wheeled his chair over to Whiny's cube. He typed in 'Ctrl+Alt+Delete'. His fingers stuck to the keys as he typed.

"Goddamnit, you fucking chucklehead! There's honey all over your fuckin' keyboard!"

"That's it!", squealed the bear, clapping his sticky paws together. Chris noticed paperclips, cracker crumbs and pen caps stuck in the matted mess of Whiny's fur. The bear-smell was so sourly rotten that it made Sobbin wince.

Just because you shit in the woods doesn't mean that you don't have to wipe your ass, Chris mused.

"That's what?” Chris asked.

"My password! H-U-N-N-Y! Honey!"

Christopher went back to his spreadsheet picks. In his mind he was killing the Bear in a thousand horrible ways.

And they all lived happily ever after.