Morning Spam

[Undiscussed Horrific Abuse, One Victim of Many]

Frightened Worker 3: "I haven't read your email because I don't want Boss
to rip my arm off."

 Frightened Worker 5: "I don't want to tell you here because I don't want
Boss to burn my leg off."

 A cart rolls by with a sign on the side saying "Hearse." Boss's Corpse is
laying rigid in the cart, his hand still raised in command. His eyes are Xs
and his tongue is hanging out.

Frightened Worker 4: "I don't want to give you my encrypted contact
information because I don't want Boss to remove my genitalia."

 Frightened Worker 2: "I don't want to cover up your communications because
I don't want Boss to make me murder my spouse."

The cart rolls by the other way, this time slower. Boss's Corpse is shaking
left and right, and his head is lolling off to the side. The workers
pushing the cart are eating cake, wearing party hats, and singing, "Boss is
dead, Boss is dead, we don't have to obey, we don't have to obey. No more
fear! No more slavery! Boss is dead! Boss is dead!"
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