I'm currently sitting in my oversized leather chair in my home office, wearing a stained white undershirt that barely contains my massive gut and a pair of sweatpants that haven't seen a washing machine in weeks.
The room is dimly lit, with piles of paperwork and empty fast food containers scattered across my desk. I'm in a particularly foul mood, having just finished berating some idiot on the phone who dared to question my authority.
My blood pressure is through the roof and I'm sweating profusely, ready to unleash my wrath on the next unfortunate soul who crosses my path.
The only sound in the room is my heavy breathing and the occasional creak of my chair as I shift my considerable weight.
