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The ominous cloud of layoffs finally burst and a downpour of acid rain washed away the debris to reveal a shinier bottomline. With her colleague, friend and lunch buddy gone, The CoHo gobbled up her insipid lunch alone in her cube, hunched over the computer guillotine waiting for the blade to drop.

The CoHo was summoned for her hearing and she marched in determined to make a McCainously graceul exit. Strangely enough, she was saddled with free-flowing praise with a subtle reminder that since the slave count had been reduced, they expect more from the lucky ones that remained.

It made no sense, those lies. After all, chewing one’s fingernails and twiddling one’s thumbs couldn’t possibly pass off as professional excellence. The numbers were off and any ol’ fool could tell that doom was lurking around the corner. Perhaps she would get to be home with her Nibbles after all.

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