A colleague annoyingly keeps referring to ideas that he has about work mates as Kompromat, using a heavy Scottish accent, and with a tense soundtrack constantly playing in the background, it has emerged today.
Mike McBride, who sits next to you in your open-plan office has talked increasingly furtively over the last 6 weeks about a huge conspiracy theory to steal his milk from the communal fridge, involving everyone in your team, senior management, the woman off of 4 Weddings and a Funeral who increasingly plays nasty roles, and Home Secretary Keeley Hawes.
Speaking in hushed tones, McBride told you that he didn’t know who else he could trust anymore, but he had received some incriminating evidence that Sheila in accounts was topping up her Yorkshire tea with his milk every day at 1030am, and it was well known that she hadn’t put anything into the kitty jar for at least 3 months.
Arriving 20 minutes late on Monday morning, McBride indicated that there had been some significant developments over the weekend, speaking cryptically about organised crime involvement, and making some odd references to an ‘inevitable series 2, and a few loose ends’.
‘Someone has conveniently placed a pint in the fridge today to put everyone off the scent’, whispered McBride, holding a small carton up triumphantly between thumb and forefinger, as you tried to finish populating a marketing spreadsheet.
‘My money is that Sheila’s prints will be all over it’, continued McBride, sweating. ‘I don’t know how much longer I can hold on to it though. Its a totally full pint carton. This one goes right to the top.’