Pssst. Z.
Hey, the partners came in first thing this morning before you got here. They looked pretty ticked.
They said that you were becoming a liability or something like that to them, that they were tired of seeing you glaring at people when they walked by your office and had enough of you cuttin' the cheese all the time and stinkin' up the place, yada yada, yada, and told me to type out this memo.
I tried to talk them out of it since you had my back the other day with Mel and all, but Im just the new girl here. What pull do I have, right? So anyway, just thought I would give you a little heads up. Theyre droppin' this baby on ya later on this afternoon.
La2
INTEROFFICE MEMO
JUNE 6, 2006
ATTN: ZZUB
RE: ZZUB
The purpose of this Memo is to attempt to clear up some long standing issues that The Partners have with ZZUB. You will find a listing of the particular grievances below, in no particular order.
I. For months on ends, The Partners (heretofore to be referred to as The Partners) have noticed a certain foul smelling stench permeating from your office. The putrid odor inevitably makes each client who steps through our doors pull a ZZUB. Which in turn, makes each member of the staff pull a ZZUB. So in our quest to stop the Neverending Circle of Vomit that has clenched this office in its unwavering grasp for far too long, we must go straight to the source of the problem. The Partners propose that you receive immediate medical treatment for your obviously gross gastrointestinal problems. The Partners feel we can no longer stand idly by and watch as you continually vomit your guts up day after day onto our office supplies at an alarming rate without intervening.
II. The décor in your office is atrocious. We understand that you tend to be a bit frugal seeing as how you have been Losing the Battle For Your Wallet, whatever
that means, for THIRTY FIVE YEARS now but The Partners would like to respectfully disagree that not EVERYTHING comes back around. Case in point the orange shag carpet, assorted lava lamps, velvet bean bags and paneled walls in your office. Spend some money Son. Get a decorator. Better yet, well let the new girl do it. She seems to be plugged in to the trends of today. Plus we really like her a lot.
Seriously, ZZUB. Thirty five years? So that means youve been losing that battle since you were what, like, three? Did you even have a wallet to lose back then? Much less any money in it? Coins up the nose notwithstanding. Just seems like a bit of a stretch, wouldnt you agree? Thats all Im sayin. Back to your regular programming.
IV. The Partners would like an explanation as to the ingredients in the muffins that have been floating around the office lately. The Partners ate them while we were working late last night and immediately peed our pants and forgot our names for a half hour or so. Subsequently, we all pulled five ZZUBs each. At the same time. The Partners would also like to know the true identity of the woman who delivers them. Although she is a very attractive, charming, funny young woman, we fear she is in a slightly fragile state. The Partners understand that said woman may fully believe that she is indeed a cross between Lady Godiva and Tigger doing the greater good by delivering Feel Good Muffins to the Staff, but The Partners dont buy it anymore, and quite frankly, she is beginning to scare us.
V. The Partners feel they have made every effort to include you in various outings. But your excuse for not traveling to Europe is growing stale with us. Why do I need Europe when Ive got Epcot? What kind of a man says that? Sure, it was humorous the first twenty five times you used it but frankly, the Partners now feel your sanity is hanging on by a thread. Because lets face it. No grown man likes Disney that much.
On a lighter note, we love the new girl. She is an asset to the firm and we hope to have her blessed face around here for a very, very, very, long time.
At least you did something right.
Now, go clean up your puke and get a Plug In or ten in that office of yours. And thats final.
Signed,
The Partners
Sorry Z. Yeah, I dont think they like you very much.
La2
