Death by Powerpoint

John and Jennie sat in the back row of the conference room, squirming impatiently like small schoolchildren.  For forty minutes they had endured a presentation from the new regional director, thinking all the while of all the things they could more usefully be doing.

‘For the love of all that’s good would he ever stop,’ Jennie said without moving her lips.

‘Look, look,’ John said, looking straight ahead.  ‘THE WAY FORWARD.  This has to be the final section surely?’

The new regional director took a small candle from his pocket.

‘I want you all to concentrate very hard on lighting this candle,’ he said.  ‘Let’s see what happens when we all focus our thoughts.’

‘Make him stop,’ John whispered to Jennie.  ‘Please, I’m begging you: just make him stop.’

Then the director took out his lighter and lit the candle.  ‘Sometimes,’ he explained, nodding in earnest agreement with himself, ‘you can’t just think about change.  Sometimes,’ he said, narrowing his eyes, ‘you just have to make it happen.’

‘I’m actually going to kill him,’ John said.

‘Er, not before I do,’ Jennie said.

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