Farook from Accounting brought his French Poodles into the office today.
He walked in with the three of them, tied them to his chair and started “working.”
Apparently he fired his dog sitter. Something about a missing Pepsi from his fridge.
Within seconds the dogs started barking. They only stopped barking to pee on the carpet. Or hump each other.
By now, Typhoid Mildred had formed an angry mob. They went off in search of my boss, Clark.
Next, Carlita Paonessa showed up at Farook’s cube.
She said “I’m allergic to dogs, Farook.”
Before Farook could reply, the dogs broke free and attacked Carlita. They started by mauling her groin.
I know this because I heard her crash to the floor and start screaming “Ow! They’re mauling my groin! Ow! Ow! Jesus Christ! My groin! My groin!”
A crowd quickly formed. Everyone was horrified. Everyone agreed something had to be done. But all everyone did was stare.
Farook started screaming “No! Bad doggies! Stop! Niña, Down! Pinta, heel! Santa Maria, don’t! No! Bad doggies! Stop! Stop! Stop!”
But Farook’s bad doggies weren’t stopping.
Clark arrived. He pulled them off Carlita’s groin and ordered Farook to take his dogs home. “Now!!!”
I have to say, at that moment, Clark radiated authority.
But then he undermined it all when he asked Carlita if he could tend to her wounds.
As if things weren’t litigious enough.