Dicker with the Price on my tag

I have roughly one hour to kill at work. And trust you me, if I could kill it I would or rather I would hunt the large creature living in the back room. Some call her a secretary I call her Shrek. She reignites every tiny belief I have in monsters. If she was hiding under my bed I would piss in it every night... maybe she has a night job? She seems a little too over-qualified for that though. Too many children would wake up in a pool of their own sweat screaming in terror... was she going to eat me or just scare me? I ask myself that everyday that I have to see her fat tub of lard ass stalk her big fat green head in the office. Ogre's are definately like onions... this bitch stinks. But not like onions more like fresh water salmon or ROTTING VAGINA! My boss, who we will call Herbie, entered the bathroom one time and said "WOW, this bathroom smells like pussy." This was heartwarming. Despite the fact that I hate it when he has anything to say, secretly because his teeth are rotting out of his fucking head one inch at a time but goddamn a girl can only take so much! Not only did my one co-worker smell like a fucking hooker but my boss was running around saying pussy... can you say H-O-T? Yeah, I work in a sexy office.