Hunting Season

Die, corporate seagulls, die. I dare you to fly in and crap all over my work again. I'll be ready for you with my trusty 870 loaded with slugs and buckshot. Expect no mercy you ungrateful, soulless, disconnected, corporate cube monkeys. Get a clue about how things really work before messing around with something that's not broken.

There, I feel a little better now.