Derek and Angela deal with the cute graphics guy, because there's always a cute graphics guy, and fuck around this time for five hours, and everything Angela thinks of, she checks with Derek for no reason, and he is like reclined in his chair with his tie off and his shoes off and slippers and a pipe and a copy of Mandate, is how not feeling this task he is, but she doesn't get it. So her dumb ideas that don't exist fail to gain traction, and Derek's like, "Make them any size you want, the banners. Stick 'em on a horse and buggy, pretend that they're psychic and you have to have a Sixth Sense to read the signage, do whatever the hell. Hand me a marker and I'll make some fucking signs, just leave me alone." He interviews that marketing is "on her" and that technically he "reports to her," and there's much talking, and they hit the deadline, and pass it by, so now the signage, which I'm sure is going to be piss poor, is not showing up or something, and Derek earns his firing, via edit, by telling us that Angela fucked up but he's going to pay the price for it, because his shit was done at 8, and now it's the year 2525 and Lexus has been bought out by McDonald's and our robot masters force us to do their parallel parking for them.

QUICK QUIZ!

1) Who besides you and Angela are there?
2) So justifying and saying that your ass is covered, in an interview that only you and we will ever see is ...
3) Going up against Angela, even in your mind, is...
4) So is this a risk? Burnout? Killer fatigue? A scary trip into gameshow world?
5) In summation: if the thing you were tasked to do isn't done, "My stuff was done at 8" is worth precisely...
6) And by "white trash" I mean of course ...