UNDER PRESSURE

They say preparations can make or break important meetings.

And so, the meeting room had been prepared well for the meeting; however, Steve felt under-prepared. But then again, he was pretty sure no one else would be prepared either.

There were eight chairs neatly arranged around the table at the centre of the room. All eight chairs were taken. Only the chair at the head of the table was empty, not because the boss was late, but because he was standing near the whiteboard and jumping like a mad man.

"You smart-asses know your targets, don't you?", Mr. Josh Briggs asked them in his signature deep baritone. 

All eight reportees hung their heads in shame.

"Answer me!!!" , the baritone made way for a thunderous bark.

Steve looked across the table and saw Cynthia fidgeting with her hair. Everyone knew he found her cute. His eyes began scanning her from her forehead, to her eyes, down to her nose and lips, and then down to her dainty chin, and then further down to her...

"Stephen Mason!!!", the bark was familiar, "Have you been listening to what I've been saying??"

"Erm...Sir..."

"Margins...what is our gross margin?"

"Umm...25%?"

"Wrong....40%!!!"

"Oh wow...congratulations sir."

"Fuckin Dimwit!!", the boss was livid, "That's the worst Gross Margin we've had in 14 quarters!"

At this point, Steve began to feel uneasy, "Sorry Mr.Briggs."

"That explains why you dumbfucks can't get our sales running.", he pointed at an image on the whiteboard, "Do you know what this is?"

Steve studied the line and found the trajectory very familiar, "are those our salaries sir?"

Mr. Briggs slapped his forehead. "That's our net profit....", he said in a sullen tone.

"Sir...", Steve continued, "May I...."

"How long have you been in this company you fuckin prick?", the boss shifted gears once again.

"Umm...five years....I would..." Steve was getting increasingly impatient.

"Shut up you moron...listen to me....what on earth have you been doing all these years?"

At this point, Steve couldn't take it anymore. "Sir, I request you to..."

"You sit on your sorry little ass all day, doing abso-bloody-lutely nothing!"

Steve's eyes suddenly went red and he began shaking, "Sir...I don't mind listening to you all day...but please...!!"

"Even my one year old makes more sense than you do, you dimwit!!"

Steve slammed his fist on the table/

His voice pierced through the sudden silence in the room as he said, "That's enough Sir...I need to go now!"

And he stormed out of the room like a man possessed.

Conclusion: When you gotta pee, you gotta pee!