Sam

"I like my job. I like my job. I like my job," I repeated as I walked through the halls. "Yeah, say it enough, and one day it will be true," I thought. Even with full hands, I managed to open the door to my boss's office.

My boss was Quinn Fabray. She followed her father's footsteps and became a family lawyer. Eager to get into a courtroom, she rushed through school. Quinn was becoming one of the top lawyers in New York, but to be the best, she demanded a lot.

She didn't look up as I entered. Her right hand continued to write, and her left rested on the desk, gripping an imaginary cup. "Samuel," she called, "what's wrong with this picture?"

I gave her the coffee, sliding the cup into her hand. I placed the stack of folders on the far right side of her desk; the designated area were the papers weren't in Quinn's way, but she could have them when she was ready. I stepped back and watched Quinn drink. I never left her office right away because I always knew she would call me back within two minutes.

"This is cold." She scowled as I began to laugh. Before I could tell her about my crazy adventure through the city, she stopped me. "Your incompetence is not amusing. Your job is to anticipate and cater to my needs. You know I can't function without caffeine. Are you trying to kill me?"

Under my breath, I mumbled, "Don't tempt me."

"Get me another," she ordered. Refocusing on her work, Quinn began to flip through the folders I had delivered. She called me as soon as I turned my back. "You forgot the Jackson case."

"You won that case months ago. Why do you need it?"

"For comparison. There's a lot of similarities between-" She stopped. She realized she was talking to her assistant. "Why am I telling you this. Do as I asked."

That was one of Quinn's better days.

Puck

I never pictured myself in an office, but I became a loan officer. I decided if a person was worthy of a loan that would fund their dream. I took the job to save and start my own pool cleaning business on the West Coast, but the job had grown on me. I liked my job.

My boss was a completely different thing. Rachel Berry was a psycho. She would let people's lives burn for her love of money. She ran a tight ship. She believed that time was money; If you waste a second of your time, you lose her money.

Tina and I slid into her office and stood against the wall. We stayed silent as we watched the elderly couple- pushing 60- plead their case to Rachel.

"We need a loan to get caught up on payments," the husband announced. "My disability only covers so much, and Janet is looking for a second job."

The wife added, "Not a lot of people are looking to hire someone at my age."

"How much is owed on the house?" Rachel asked. "How far behind are you?"

The couple danced around the answers for as long as they could, but they had to tell the truth. They were in debt- deep debt. They had no stability and weren't reliable enough to pay off a loan.

Rachel was too evil to tell them no. She was willing to give them the money for their home, but she would own the deed until the debt was paid off. Along with the loan, she ordered the couple to pay prime plus ten percent as interest.

They agreed. With their credit, they were happy that they got any offer. They were in the moment and couldn't see that they had a bad deal. They weren't being foreclosed on that week. They got one bank off their backs, but the Bank of Rachel Berry wasn't any better.

Rachel smirked at her accomplishment. "My employee will draft the paperwork." She passed the notes of the negotiation to Tina.

As soon as Tina and the couple were out of the room, I stepped forward. "You know they can't pay back that loan. Why would you do that to them?," I criticized the little brunette on the other side of the desk.

"It's best for me." She ordered me to sit. "I called you here for a reason. Do you know how I got to my position?"

"Your dads made you the boss when they retired."

"No!" she snapped. She stood and turned to admire her business plaques on the wall. "First, I worked my butt off."

I looked Rachel up and down, studying her skinny frame, "That explains a lot."

"Second, I don't let anything hold me back. I don't make decisions based on my feelings. If you want to succeed like me, then you have to cut that anchor and set sail." She looked at me. "You can't fall for every sob story that's told to you."

"It's their lives," I argued. I thought everyone was born with a heart, but apparently not.

"I need better results from you, Puckerman. This week, you have the chance to prove yourself." She was planning to leave the office for the rest of the week. She was taking a strictly business trip. She wanted to start another company in another state and spread more misery. "I need the brash and aggressive guy that I originally hired."

"I'm still-"

Rachel held up her finger, signaling for me to be quiet. "The discussion is closed," she declared. She took her bag and coat from the corner. "I'm having my teeth whitened, and then I have a meeting on 14th street. I won't be back in the office." She followed me out and locked her door.

Nothing brightened the office like Rachel's absence.

Finn

Everyone can agree that one of the best things about working is clocking out. You get the pleasure of leaving behind annoying coworkers and needy bosses. You fill that void with family and friends.

"Samuel? Only my grandmother calls me that," Sam complained. He sipped from his beer before moving to his next point. "There's coffee in the office, but Quinn gets weird pleasure out of sending me across town six times a day."

"Rachel thinks I'm soft," Puck said; that was the greatest insult. "So I'm supposed to sit back and watch people walk into Berry's office like lambs to the slaughter?"

I liked going out with my friends after work. For the longest time, I had to listen to my friends complain about their jobs, but recently I had a reason to join the conversation.

"Your bosses have been crazy for years," I announced. "Mercedes went crazy overnight."

I was a dental assistant to Dr. Mercedes Jones. I worked with her for five years. Everything was great when I started working for her. For the last three months, everything I did was wrong: I took a blurry x-ray, I held the swab wrong, I didn't sound nice enough on the phone. I thought I was making the mistakes she accused me of, but then they started to get ridiculous. I had a hard time because she randomly decided not to like me.

Puck nodded and put his drink down. "Mercedes discovered crazy too late in life. She'll leave it eventually," he promised. "Rachel is stone cold. How does she sleep, knowing what she's done?"

Sam jumps up with the answer. "I heard that one before. On a king size bed with Egyptian cotton sheets."

"ALONE!" Puck added. "I don't know if she needs medications or batteries. If Rachel had dick in her life, she'd be tolerable."

"You can't sleep with your boss. That's considered sexual harassment, and you could go to jail for that..." Sam sat back to think about what he said. Even he had to question his last statement. "I don't know. I'm just an assistant." He groaned and mumbled that he hated Quinn.

Why don't we just quit, right? We knew we couldn't. We were paid nicely to take shit. We had great benefits. We had jobs in one of the most competitive cities in America. If we had quit, we may have never worked again… unless one of us started a business.

"How much have you saved for your pool cleaning business?"

Puck shook his head. "Not even close. My money goes towards all the alcohol I need to work with Berry." He finished off his beer before announcing, "We're stuck being miserable losers, fantasizing about killing our bosses."

Sam glanced up. "You do that too?"

Puck admitted, "Of course. It's a natural and healthy thing to do."

"No, it's not." I agreed that our bosses need to be stopped, but that wasn't the way. I knew how those two could get wild with ideas, so I was going to close the conversation before it started. "We're not killing our bosses."

"We could," Puck argued."They could run hell together. Be Satan's problem."

"No, nothing about us says 'killers.' Now, stop talking about that."

"But hypothetically-"

"You're talking about women."

He rolled his eyes and leaned back into his chair. In his moment of silence, Puck had an idea. "I can't have sex with Rachel, but what if one of you do… I don't mind sacrificing one of you two for my happiness."

Sam quietly thought about it before volunteering, "I'll do it if you do the same for me." He was feeding into Puck's craziness.

He nodded. He turned to me and asked, "You want in?"

"Sure," I sarcastically answered. I didn't think the scheme was going to make it outside of the bar's doors. "You plan it out while I go and pay the tab."