Putting my fist through Valerie’s shit-eating grin is akin to feeding it into the office industrial shredder. Her teeth slice my skin, sending shards of enamel and flesh plopping into Susan’s coffee. The blood and icing-coated knife in Valerie’s shaking hand narrowly misses my cheek, allowing me to slam her skull against the cement wall.
I permit Valerie to see herself once more by pointing her gouged out eyes towards her pummelled corpse. The office gawks. Susan pours another coffee.
I ignored Valerie’s self-righteous entitlement for the last time.
It was my promotion cake...
And I called the corner piece!
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