You could just do such a miserable job that the plan has to fail, but it’s too risky with Morgan at the helm. What if you’re asked to redo it seventeen times to meet that tyrant’s idea of stolen perfection? The only thing worse than not getting credit for your idea would be having to work harder than usual to do so.

No, you’ll act like a team player. For now…

*    *    *    *    *

The day of the presentation, you’re all smiles.

“Can I get you a coffee, Morgan? We all want to be on point, right?” You smile ingratiatingly at your enemy. Morgan nods.

“That would be great, thanks.”

You grab two mugs out of the cupboard and pour a huge dose of “fast-acting” laxative into the blue one. Get ready for a shitty meeting, Morgan…

You head in with the two cups of coffee and hand the blue mug to Morgan, who nods appreciatively and takes a big swig.

‘Thirty minutes or less’ until the shit explosion.

The presentation starts smoothly, but within minutes, Morgan’s starting to look clammy.

“Excuse me, I’m just feeling a bit…lightheaded.” Morgan grimaces, face bright red.

“Are you, uh-uh-uh, okay?”

“I’m having trouble…” Morgan gulps. It sounds…tortured. “Breathing.”

“Are those hives on your arms? Morgan, are you having an allergic reaction? This looks just like the time my Aunt Ida ate that, uh-uh-uh, hidden shrimp.”

“No, it can’t…be.” Morgan’s gasping for air now. “The only thing I’m allergic to is over-the-counter laxatives, and it’s not like I’ve had…any of…those.” Morgan’s face is going white now.

Fuck. You wanted Morgan to fail, not die.

“Oh god, I think I know what’s happening. I put laxative in my coffee, but I must have accidentally given it to Morgan.” Every manager gapes at you. “I’ve been having serious bowel issues lately. I, uh, ate too much cheese over the weekend, and things haven’t cleared up, so…” Your boss sniffs. “Anyway, I brought in both our coffees. Morgan must have gotten mine.”

At that moment Morgan collapses to the floor.

Luckily, your boss’s boss carries an epi-pen for bee stings. By the time the ambulance arrives, the entire room is crowding around the healthy-looking Morgan, lauding the presentation that was never delivered.

Fuck.

As you head out you feel a tap on your shoulder.

“I just wanted to talk about, uh-uh-uh, today,” your boss says.

“Oh? I think Morgan will be fine, the EMT said–”

“Not that. Your lapse in judgment.”

“Like I said, it was a mistake. My bowel issues have been very–”

Your boss shakes his head in disgust, cutting you off.

“Let’s not. I just wanted to say I had been considering promoting you. Morgan told me this was your, uh-uh-uh, idea.”

“Morgan…what?”

“But after today I have serious concerns. If you can’t keep track of a detail as basic as which, uh-uh-uh, cup is yours, how can you be trusted with the responsibilities of a new position?”

“I swear to you, it was just my bowel issues clouding my–”

“Maybe in a few months you’ll be ready for the big leagues. For now, I’m going to be, uh-uh-uh, overseeing your work more closely.”

THE END.


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