I’d like to file an official complaint against my co-worker, Philip Hughes (or, as per the office memo he sent around last month, he may be in your files as Spiderman Hughes).
As his peer I am unable to discipline him or censor his behaviour, but have noted down incidents that I believe should be on record.
Firstly, I am concerned about Philip’s work. He doesn’t seem to do much, often given to the fact that he goes to the toilet in the morning and leaves a cardboard cut-out of Dustin Hoffman at his desk until home time. Only last week I asked him to hand in the Alcott Files and instead he submitted the sign from the toilets asking people not to stand on the toilet seats. His excuse that it must have fallen into his notes was patchy considering there were no other notes, the sign had been laminated and super-glued to the tile wall, and there was still a tile attached.
He also took two weeks of sick leave when his shoulder ‘just fell out’ of its socket, as well as sick leave for a coma, bereavement leave for his dead wife followed by paternity leave for his pregnant wife, and then leave to deal with charges of gay prostitution. I was assigned all his work over these periods, and when I expressed concern about the situation he cut off a chunk of my hair and named me to the police as the pimp of a large prostitution ring.
Philip’s behaviour is affecting the morale of the office in general- for example, he looked after the office pet iguana last weekend, and when he returned on Monday, Rocky was a rock on a leash with a rudimentary iguana drawn on it and a shoelace tail sticky-taped to the face end. Also last month he gave a half-empty packet of staples and a cigarette butt to the collection for Jenny’s birthday present. This was unsuitable as we were collecting cash for a voucher, and also as Jenny is in office supplies and had provided Philip with the full staple packet twenty minutes earlier.
He is unkind to others, like on Tuesday when he told Glen that Glen’s parents had just died in a house fire so he could have Glen’s sandwich. He will only stop throwing socks at ‘Dobby’ (short-statured Peter) on the days he has a prostitute come to the office looking to service Tyrion Lannister (short-statured Peter). Peter’s marriage has broken down as a result and he has resorted to living in the building’s ventilation system.
I thought perhaps Philip was coming good and trying to be nicer this morning when he offered to make me a Cup-a-Soup from the kitchen to sooth my sore throat, but when he came back with a cup-o-urine and cut off another chunk of my hair I began to doubt his intentions.
I had a meeting with my supervisor to discuss Philip’s behaviour, which would have been very productive if it hadn’t just been Philip in Groucho Marx glasses (an ill-begotten disguise, for while my supervisor does indeed have a moustache, she does not wear glasses).
I think at the very least a mediation session is in order, or perhaps Philip should be let go or sent to jail. In case further evidence is needed, I have attached photos of the office Christmas party showing a) Philip having sex with the office kettle, and b) Philip forcibly riding Donkey (short-statured Peter).