"I dunno how you can drink that poison, Frank." Joe snarked, making his tea as I poured my first cup of coffee. The carafe dribbled as I finished off the pot.
"Only way I can get through the day. Some of us still have to bring home a paycheck, mister windfall." Joe had recently inherited a large sum of money, enough to be set for life.
Rich enough to retire at 40 on some unnamed tropical island. "Word on the street is that you're giving your two weeks today."
Joe sneered at me, "Two weeks? This place doesn't deserve one more minute of my time. Truth be told, I'll be out of here before 9 AM, just a few loose ends to tie up."
It was true though, the company didn't exactly treat it's employees with respect, and tensions were always high in the office.
"So what then?" I asked between sips, wincing a little from the bitter, burning taste.
"You got an AK-47 under your desk? Gonna show everyone a thing or two?" I mocked with a clearly sarcastic tone.
Joe laughed a bit, playing along, "Good one. Yeah this whole place needs to be gunned down, set ablaze, etcetera.
But no, I've got too much to look forward to, I'd go with the subtle route, y'know? Something sinister. No blaze of glory, just sweet revenge."
I took another swig of today's exceptionally vile brew and promptly spat it out into the sink. Crimson painted the brushed steel and my insides screamed in burning agony.
Joe's fading footsteps were the last things I heard as my world turned to blackness.