Monday morning, I found this at my desk. A gift from my father, decapitated. Better Dwight than me. But still, unsettling.
Somebody either really hates me, or really hates The Office. Either way, a note would have been appreciated. Threatening or otherwise. I’d like to know where I stand.
The healing process has begun. A replacement is on order — and expensed to my employer. Clumsy construction workers could also be to blame. I keep telling myself that scenario is more likely than a rival trained on intimidation.
But in case I do have one more enemy than I realized, let me make this very clear. To quote the owner of the McFly residence in the alternate 1985 of ‘Back to the Future II’: I ain’t gonna be terrorized.