Robin Wyatt Dunn
Tapas Winner
Internal company strife was what what we told HR, a brief email before the fun, the distribution of knives:

I had Jane from Accounting up against the water cooler with my hatchet but she was getting fiesty with the chainsaw, one that Dave had brought in to brag about last week, like he was going into the chainsaw business--

He'll never use it now, and neither will Jane for very long--

She's running, into the general melee:

Max, Mohammed and Nancy, on the back of Galahad, our COBOL man, sixty-five if he's a day, beating one another with their fists, riding the man, and beating . . .

Our aim: to find the master.

Our journey: without compare.

The reward: to bring death to HR.

First up against the wall, motherfucker!

I wade in, with my brass knuckes, tooth missing, and I smile:

I want to be the one to set the charges. And we'll laugh, like gods, over martinis . . .

First published: May 2015
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