I saw you go into the bathroom next to my office. And then, though it horrifies me to remember it, I smelled you. For the sake of decorum I won’t add that I heard you in there, but the stench spoke volumes. With four restrooms scattered about this office, why must your morning dump be taken in mine? Why must my nest be fouled daily by you of the unsettled bowel? And finally, why must you bring with you the office newspaper, thus infesting it with the scent that will now emit from the stinkhole formerly known as the upstairs bathroom for a good half-hour?
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