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The Tragic End of the Merry Temp!

Updated on June 12, 2012

Once upon a time

In a little village

Far away from home

There lived a merry little temp

With a sweet spirit of gum drops

And a gentle heart made of lollipops,

Who had no choice but to work

In a dark gloomy office.

All she wanted to do was work

And work hard

And nothing but.

To her dismay,

She was poorly prepared

When she arrived

And had no choice,

But to sit right next to a mad temp

With daggers for eyes

And a voice that could make mirrors crack and shudder.

With sharp fangs, wicked thorns

And a very bitter heart,

The mad temp didn't care for the merry temp

In any way

So she screamed at her

And threw her glaring looks of evil

And disapproval

At whatever she said

In hopes that she would leave

And get out of her way.

The merry temp fought for survival

Because she was very poor

And it was all she had

So even when the mad temp threw hissy fits

She bit the bullet, but it only made matters worse.

The mad temp did everything she could

with a heart filled with greed

to get the merry temp to leave.

The mad temp was mad, so very mad

That someone else might

Take her pay and hours

So she reported

Whatever she could find

To higher management

To make the merry temp look sour

Because the mad temp

Had the seniority and the power.

In the end the mad temp won

And the merry temp lost her job for good.

So the merry temp packed her bags

With tears in her eyes and a shattered heart

And went on her way

Without a penny to her name

And filled with

Embarrassment and shame

To the glee of the mad greedy temp

Who didn't care for her in any way.

In the end, the merry temp

Had not only lost her pay

But her merry ways as well

As they were crushed

And dashed by the mad wicked temp.

For little did the merry temp

know that the real reason

behind the mad temp's bitterness

was because she had thorns

growing out from underneath her,

which made her scream

And hollar throughout the day

to everyone's dismay!


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    • RTalloni profile image

      RTalloni 5 years ago from the short journey

      How aptly you describe the way it sometimes goes! Written with the kind of understanding that comes from experience--I hope for your sake it was vicarious.