The Prize of Success

I always saw myself as a freedom fighter in the office. I waged a rebellious, guerrilla campaign against the stupid, the tyrannical, and the uncooperative. For some reason I always found battles to fight and Dilbert was my hero.

Last week I had fought the good fight and been written up. Fortunately for me, both the assistant managers liked me and went to bat for me. The trouble was they were pranksters.

So the Dave’s (yes, both my assistant managers were named Dave) came to my cubicle and offered me a consolation prize for my efforts- an ice-cream sundae. Now, alarm bells should have went off in my head since there wasn’t an ice-cream shop anywhere close by, but I was excited. More so because the office I worked in didn’t believe in air conditioning. I accepted my prize and took a big bite out of it but something was wrong. The ice-cream wasn’t really cold. It was mushy, like warm cottage cheese and it tasted funny. The Dave’s burst out laughing.

They’d used chocolate syrup to cover a big ball of butter.

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