Simba sat at his desk, typing on his computer, having an incredibly difficult time getting his keyboard to work. The cub's paws were simply too big for accurate control of the keys.

"Gosh darn it! Now I'm not going to meet my quota for the day!"

It was then when Simba's boss, Carl, walked up to the cub's cubicle, the human's hand covering his nose.

"Simba! Did you roll through a puddle of mud or something? You smell like the ass of a wild coyote!"

Simba tried to turn his chair around to face his boss, but he quickly slipped, landing on his butt on the floor, papers covering his maneless head. He then stood up, brushing his fur angrily.

"I'm sorry Carl, but I honestly have better things to do than to bathe!"

Carl's eyes narrowed, his bright blue orbs focusing on his employee. "Yeah? Like what? Exploring the sewers of Downtown Detroit?"

Simba laughed nervously, before shrugging in indifference. "Well, yeah. You never know what you're going to find down there!"

Carl threw his hands into the air in disgust. "Oh yeah, like rotting feces and diseased vermin are so interesting. I cannot believe that you actually do that!"

Simba rolled his eyes. "Don't you have any sense of adventure Carl?"

Carl facepalmed, now figuring that he had only one option on how to properly deal with his current predicament. "Simba, you're fired!"

"Sir, you can't fire me! I have cubs at home that need to be fed!"

Carl held out his hands in shock. "How in the hell can you have cubs? YOU ARE A CUB!"

Simba blushed in embarrassment. "Well, when a lion and a lioness love each other very much, they-"

"I KNOW HOW IT WORKS, YOU IDIOT! I HAVE A WIFE AND A DAUGHTER!"

Simba dropped down and began to beg. "Sir, please, just give me one more chance!"

"Do I need to remind you what happened the last time I gave you one more chance?"

Simba shrugged nervously. "How was I supposed to know that my Uncle Scar would cheat us out of $3,000,000 in revenue?"

"He had five convictions for fraud. FIVE!"

"So?"

Carl's face was now turning blue in anger. "SO HE IS A FREAKING CRIMINAL, AND YOU SHOULDN'T EVER TRUST HIM!"

"But…but…he apologized!"

Carl sighed in exhaustion. "Simba, you have to positively be the biggest idiot that I have ever met. Tell me, how the hell did you get hitched?"

Simba grinned. "It's probably because of the fact that I'm just so cute and cuddly."

"THAT'S IT! SECURITY!"

Almost immediately, ten men, all of them tall, muscular, and wearing blue suits, approached Simba. The cub began to back away, feeling incredibly nervous.

"Uh…hey guys. Nice suits ya got on. Hey! Hey! What are you doing with those tasers? OW! OW! I'm leaving! I'm leaving!"

As Simba fled the establishment, Carl collapsed on to the floor, his hands over his face. "Mary…when you say that sitting in a cubicle all day isn't a real job, just be thankful you don't have to deal with HIM!"

Later…

"What do you mean that you got fired?"

Simba began to chuckle nervously. "Well Carl said that I…Nala…please put down the frying pan."

BONG!