Management Material?

So I’m looking for a new job at the moment, and one of the recruitment agencies asked me if I thought I was cut out for management.

When I was about 18, I worked for this company that copied and distributed disks. I had been there for a couple of years and basically everybody that worked there was borderline retarded, so I ended up being the manager for my department.

One of the things my department did was label disks. We had this big machine that you could run about a hundred disks at a time through, and it would put the labels you wanted on. So one day I get one of my minions to label about 2000 disks, and he manages to get it done really quickly. He’s all proud about his achievement, and I go and check them, and find he hasn’t aligned the thing properly so every single label is hanging off the bottom of the disk by a couple of millimetres. The Dick.

So I sit him down and tell him to peel every label off. I tell him to stick every label he peels off together to form a big ball. When he’s finished it’s about the size of a football, and is basically a block of wood. Hours later, he comes over and tells me he’s finished. His fingers are red and sore and his back aches because I haven’t let him take a break the whole time. I tell him to go bring me the ball he’s made. He gives it to me, and I tell him to go away, and as he’s leaving I throw the ball at his spine and drop him to the ground.

I explain to him that from now on this ball will be called the ball of justice, and tell him I’m going to beat him with it whenever he does something wrong. Later on that week he was talking to a friend instead of working, when a large football shaped block of wood smashed him in the face

“GET BACK TO WORK”

Am I cut out for management. Abso-fucking-lutely.