The hunt. The kill.

Awooooo! You stop and smell the air. Another pack is on the hunt tonight. You quickly lead everyone into the bushes and wait. You are out of your comfort zone. You've wandered into their hunting zone and you are not the dominate pack. All you can hope for now is that they don't find you, they leave you scraps, and you remembered to set your TiVo to record Project Runway. How you love the drapery of Rami and crave his perfect, all-day 5 o' clock shadow.

You hear a rustling near by and drop to the ground in terror. Your pack is small and weak. You fed of your boss' decaying corpse as long as you could, but the hunger was too much and you were forced to leave the office. A rabbit hops by and you hear a whine rise from your pack. You motion to stay still, but the temp from accounting rushes out in a blood lust. You shake your head and motion to leave, for that was no ordinary rabbit. The interns are young and don't understand why we are leaving so you let them watch. As the temp rushes to consume the rabbit he suddenly realizes his mistake. It was a thug bunny. His gang bum rushes Jim from all sides and quickly pummels him to death with chains, bats, and his own skull. The interns cry out in fear and the thug bunnies quickly turn their eyes on you. The leader.

You try offering them TPS reports and faxes in exchange for your lives. They take the paper and nibble it. The paper has yet to yellow and was a high quality recycled, so they let you leave. For once your damn glad your boss put more into the office supplies budget than in your own paycheck. You hear the accountants body being dragged away into the Thug Bunny den. Awoooo! One of the interns cries out in anguish. Him and the accountant must have been friends, or at least once had a threesome together on a pool table at Alpha Delta Phi. You remember with a fondness the old ADP parties and crochet marathons. You feel pang of remorse at the loss of your humanity and wonder if this office job was really worth it. You tear off your tie and throw it to the ground and cry out to the night. Forsaking humanity to pay the rent and get an xbox 360 just doesn't seem worth it in hindsight. You then quickly pick up, dust off, and put back on your tie; lest anyone else challenge you for leader of the pack.

You arrive back at your office to find a pizza delivery man standing at your door with 12 large pizzas, and a 2-liter of diet Dr. Pepper. You spin around and growl at your pack.

-Oop... Sorry, that was me.

one of the receptionists (or man-ceptionist as you've come to call him) comes out from the pack, pulls out his man purse, and proceeds to beat the delivery man to death with a brick he'd been carrying around since he was hired. That man-ceptionist did always seem a bit off to you, and he adapted all too well... Best keep him in check. He turns to you with fire and blood in his eyes.

-Tonight we..! Sorry, blood in my eyes, just a se.. yea.. ahh... ok. Yea. Have at it everyone! I got one of everything they had.

The pack rushes to gorge itself after days of fasting.

-Really? Diet Dr. Pepper?

You can't believe the man-ceptionist got diet Dr. Pepper and shake your mane at him to both congratulate him on the kill and show your disappointment at getting only one soda. All that in just a mane shake. He flashes his new canines at you and puts them in his man purse. You have him put the body in the cooler in the break room so the pack doesn't go hungry anytime soon.

No, the pack has done well. The pack shall survive.