"God! I need that coffee." "Brain in scrambles?" "Traffic." "Hmm." She indicated while she sipped on her steaming hot coffee from her black mug. She wasn't going to underestimate the load of pressure her colleague was going through. Wrecking an empty brain was exactly the same as ransacking an empty house.
And the crap she's receiving from work ethics. Screw, codes and ethics! She straightened up. She's leaving. What's with the white, red, yellow, blue and black mugs and the poison they're feeding this people who were working, breathing and living in a closet to their hearts content. She truly believes there is something in the coffee. She feigns being sick with the back of her hand pressing her "feverish brow" before looking down at her coffee, smelled it (eww…) and scrunched up her face. Yeah, it's time to change job.
Okay, so the more white and yellow mugs carried from the pantry to parading somwhere around the office like little dots of confetti indicated a good sign. (White mugs yells, "I don't have a clue around, I'm back from vacation and am more than happy to start afresh working for the ****** company. Yellow mugs indicate happy colleagues, blue mugs, I don't give a shit! Red mugs, a warning and a danger at the same time, for writers it's called… 'a block' or better known as 'a writers block,' whilst the black represents the foulest mood, which Branda just gave a whole new meaning to it, from "I don't know what I'm doing here, I think I'm quitting" to "I just woke up, and felt like quitting. For real, this time."
Fuck! Scrambled brains or not, this is such a screw up company. Brenda, threw the black mug filled with steaming coffee off over her shoulder before walking her catwalk on the space between cubicles and offices. Brenda's doing her thing, yet another goal in saving a company, accomplished. With glam and all… sparkly fingernails… Her fingers did its own wavy routine, showing off her bright orange nail polish. "Amanda!" "WHAT!" Brenda snapped as she turns around.
"You're quitting – AGAIN?" Betty exclaimed. "Amanda, the machine can't take so much as one more resignation letter of yours into its system, it's not going to digest…" Daniel said a matter-of-factly. "What? So you're pulling human resources to your darker side, now?" Amanda asked Betty. "I'm serious Amanda." Daniel said as Amanda turns her head swiftly. "Amanda, I can't help you much or eventually getting around paying you your salaries if you don't stop quitting." "Weh…eee…t?" Amanda raised her eyebrows.
"If you do not put a stop to quitting." Betty sighs. "For your extra info missy, it's Brenda to you," she said with a snarl. "Oh, I forgot to tell you, although the computer couldn't completely digest your latest resignation letter which says xoxo, Brenda, it seems to be able to compute a perfect warning letter for your digest system." "Oh come on! (She snatches the letter) Don't be so lame! I'm taking five!" She stormed heavily on the carpeted floor which her heel sunk deeply in. "Amanda!" Betty places her hand on Amanda's shoulder which she received a punch on the face in return. "Oops, sorry. I thought it was that jerk, Daniel. Oh. Your carpet suck! It totally ate my heels!"
"…and you color-coded the mugs, besides you're given only like what? Five hours a day, Amanda. Really, five hours. AND-NO, you totally don't have to "blanked up" the writers by walking naked as you don't live here." "Blah-blah, I get it Betty. Hey, I thought he's the one who is boss around here?" Betty's eyes slides to one side, Daniel? Daniel clears his throat, shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably. "In case you've forgotten Amanda, this is not Meade." Daniel reminded her. "Boo, to you American-British people. Boo!" Amanda grabbed hold of chocolate kisses and threw it at Betty. "HEY! THAT'S ENOUGH!" Daniel shouted. "So, you grant my quitting?"
"Wow…what's this all about? A shouting match?" "Wowie. Who have we got here?" Amanda said under her breath as a six feet tall candy of a potential investor in the form of a model came into the room. "I heard there was this Branda ("Brenda," both Betty and Daniel corrected) who threaten to quit her job?" Kelvin asked. "I mean! Amanda." Betty corrected herself. "Uh…it's totally a misunderstanding. How about discussing things over lunch, how does that sound?" Betty asked. "Ha ha. Yeah…No such, quitter. Brenda is a loser… hi, I'm Amanda…" "Sure, sounds great." "Count me in." Daniel said quickly. "Me three!" Amanda came around, putting her arms around Daniel's and Betty's necks. "Ooh! Before you go…there is something I want to show you!" Amanda pulled him by his arms. "My, what friendly staff you have." He said, turning his head to Betty. The boss who rolled her eyes.
As they got going, Amanda kicked the black mug she threw over her shoulder under someone else's cubicle, while she excitedly skipped ahead to hers, sitting on the table, crossing her legs. "Yeah, see… this is my mug…It's the only black one in the company. Cause I'm not such a loser… like everyone else in this company." She said endearingly instead of snarling, with mug on cheek with long florescent orange nails tapping on it."Your boss is a loser?" "Uh. Yeah?" "Cool!" Betty adds on, "Yeah, it just screams of lunacy!" "Racist!" "Every god needs a mug too, you know?"