It was childish but made me feel justified.
The hiss of air escaping from each tyre represented one per year of service. His pride and joy, a twenty-one-year-old black Ferrari Carrera, got a slide of my knife too.
He had ridiculed me personally, publicly and professionally. The zenith of the sun was at its peak as the last tyre flattened, warming my complicated rationalization.
How he had fired me brought furious internal rage. My friend Mia would understand.
“Hiya! Have you read the paper yet?” I asked.
“I did online ten minutes ago. Are you okay?” Mia replied.
“He brought me in, knowing that I was going to get canned. He’s an insidious, Machiavellian prick!”
“You always had a complicated history Jeff.”
“This is low, even for him. This was completely unforeseen, and don’t worry that irony is not lost on me.”
“Jeff – you are an amazing astrologist, and don’t you forget that you have good friends too.”
“Why are you such a good friend?”
“Because working at a barrister’s office has its benefits. He fired you in print without dismissing you, so he’s not only slandered you, but also libeled your professional status and defamed your good character.”
“I could sue him. And the paper?”
“Oh yes!”
“So, I shouldn’t have wrecked his car then?”
“We’ll call that extenuating circumstances. Pop over and we’ll discuss your future.”
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