Even if Siralan Sugar wasn’t such a gobby chancing shit-peddling poodle-haired prickweasel; even if he didn’t hire those two blank-faced robot arse-lickers to sit either side of him for some reason; even if The Apprentice wasn’t just a self-aggrandising excuse to bring in some money because what the fuck does Amstrad sell any more; he’d still be the most obnoxious cunt in Britain just for having his chair higher than everyone else because he thinks it’s intimidating when, if anything, it makes him look like an adult baby sitting in a high chair. I imagine he’s wearing a nappy under that desk, and the stern arse-licking fembot who sits to his right changes him whenever he has an ‘accident’.
Think of the most unpleasant way you can for someone to die, then have it fail the first time and have to be repeated. May that happen to Siralan on a daily basis and twice on Thursdays until the end of time.
