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Description
"The mafia is a bitch."

I sat at my mahogany desk in my small office. I had all the lights out, except my two desk lamps. With a heavy and irritated sigh I rested my head in my hands, tugging at my already disheveled dark brown hair. I grounded my teeth and closed my golden eyes, hoping to God that I wouldn't get a headache from all of this crap.

I looked back at the mess of papers, documents, and files that littered my once organized space. I could feel my frustration reaching its maximum. I needed to rant. And rant I will.

"The mafia is a bitch. The 'padre' is a bastard. The 'sorella' is a stupid, unreliable bitch. The people are bastards. The henchmen are bastards. This job is a bitch. The boss is an airheaded bastard. Speaking of bastards, the Tomato-bastard is a bastard. The Potato-bastard is a bastard. My fratello is an airheaded idiot for hanging out with that bastard. This place is a mess. The papers are stupid. This whole damn thing is idiotic. This cup is idiotic! Why is it empty?! I need my espresso, dammit! My life sucks, I feel way to warm, my hair is a mess, my haircurl is a mess, my clothes are all wrinkled, I'm out of tomatoes-!"

Without thinking, I stood up quickly. My chair toppled over in the process.

"You know what?" I asked to no one in particular.

I grabbed the edges of the desk and with all my strength, I flipped the whole thing over. It fell down with a crash. I guess it's true when they say 'the heavier they come, the harder they'll fall.' I might have to replace the floor. Goddammit! Another thing to add to my growing list! I heard a scream from down the hall. I guess I woke my fratello up. Oh well. He needed to get up anyway. I refuse to miss our flight again due to his laziness! I growled again, frustrated, tired, and irritated.

"Grrr….I F**KING HATE MONDAYS!!!"

Description
"The mafia is a bitch."

I sat at my mahogany desk in my small office. I had all the lights out, except my two desk lamps. With a heavy and irritated sigh I rested my head in my hands, tugging at my already disheveled dark brown hair. I grounded my teeth and closed my golden eyes, hoping to God that I wouldn't get a headache from all of this crap.

I looked back at the mess of papers, documents, and files that littered my once organized space. I could feel my frustration reaching its maximum. I needed to rant. And rant I will.

"The mafia is a bitch. The 'padre' is a bastard. The 'sorella' is a stupid, unreliable bitch. The people are bastards. The henchmen are bastards. This job is a bitch. The boss is an airheaded bastard. Speaking of bastards, the Tomato-bastard is a bastard. The Potato-bastard is a bastard. My fratello is an airheaded idiot for hanging out with that bastard. This place is a mess. The papers are stupid. This whole damn thing is idiotic. This cup is idiotic! Why is it empty?! I need my espresso, dammit! My life sucks, I feel way to warm, my hair is a mess, my haircurl is a mess, my clothes are all wrinkled, I'm out of tomatoes-!"

Without thinking, I stood up quickly. My chair toppled over in the process.

"You know what?" I asked to no one in particular.

I grabbed the edges of the desk and with all my strength, I flipped the whole thing over. It fell down with a crash. I guess it's true when they say 'the heavier they come, the harder they'll fall.' I might have to replace the floor. Goddammit! Another thing to add to my growing list! I heard a scream from down the hall. I guess I woke my fratello up. Oh well. He needed to get up anyway. I refuse to miss our flight again due to his laziness! I growled again, frustrated, tired, and irritated.

"Grrr….I F**KING HATE MONDAYS!!!"