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This is chaotic, bitter, and genuinely hilarious in the way workplace resentment fantasies often are when they’ve been simmering for years, with the dream structure giving the writer permission to escalate everything past realism into pure emotional catharsis, while the specificity of the corporate details — boxed desk supplies, empty LinkedIn-style farewells, K-Cups, “role redundancy,” sideways promotions — makes the satire feel painfully recognizable, and the voice throughout is what really sells it, balancing venom and absurdity with razor-sharp timing, especially lines like “Even people who hate him had to admit… he wasn’t wrong” and “for the first time in a long time, the coffee didn’t taste like severance,” while the K-9 named Karma pushes the whole thing into surreal dark comedy territory in the best possible way, feeling less like realism and more like an office worker’s revenge mythology finally breaking containment.
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