Handbags at dawn

Today I found out why my name has appeared on the ‘Disposables’ list. One of my colleagues knows management are trying to cut costs and wants to make sure I get fired instead of him; so has been reporting to Management things that I have not said to my other colleagues, nasty little brown nosed arsecrawler that he is. I would dearly love to kick his sorry ass into a store room and put him out of commission. However I would not do such a thing because;

1. It wouldn’t give me any real pleasure.
2. It wouldn’t teach him a really lasting lesson. He’s too stupid.
3. I’d get fired and prosecuted and he wouldn’t
   

Recently I’ve been reading ‘The Prince’ by Niccolo Macchiavelli and Sun Tzu on ‘the Art of War’. There are ways of damaging an enemy, because that is what this guy has made himself, without personally appearing to be at fault. Just prime the pump and let the snide little loose-lipped cretin damage himself.

First off, I’ve stopped talking in his presence and picked up a book instead, only giving the briefest of responses to his questions. I know what the odious little scrote has been saying, every one of the nasty little rumours that have been spread around about my ‘motivation’ and ‘attitude’, palpable lies that they are. There is always a chance that the mud has already stuck, but I’m just going to have to make Management question the source.

What I’d like to do, but won’t, would be when the dust of this whole affair had settled, ‘chummy’ would be taken out for a serious night on the piss with some of the older lads and dropped in the old sewer with some real bad guys. Our mob evaporating into thin air to let him take the kicking he so richly deserves. It wouldn’t be nice, but it might be justice, of a sort.

On the other hand I think I’ll just steer clear of him and let him screw up all on his own. The bitchy little sod.