I reread it a couple times before getting up and walking over to her cubicle where she was stuffing a Big Mac in her face. I would not beat her about the head with her Big Mac container, I told myself, nor would I splash her in the face with her trough of ice tea. I would merely ask her to forward me the email chain she had with so and so if she was not willing to do it herself, and that's what I did.
"Are you getting an attitude with me?" she whirled around in her chair and bellowed. I couldn't make out the next few things she said and half expected subtitles to appear under her like those of Jaaba the Hut addressing Han Solo. That didn't happen, so I went ahead and volunteered that it was due to her having sent me a rude email seconds ago. She became even more outraged and denied any wrong-doing before turning her back to me and entering into the silent treatment, which is still going on as I write this.
I shrugged and returned to my desk where I immediately began looking for new work within the state. The most promising prospect to come up was the "Bureau of Cemeteries and Funerals." I sincerely hope they hire me. My first order of business will be to personally oversee the throwing of Uberdouche's cadaver over a fence once she's choked on her Big Mac.