I made a hmmphing noise as I unscrewed my pipe for a cleaning. The inside was thick and tarry, like a lady of the night's thunder cranny.

No matter, I set to work, giving it a good old scrape as if it were the stubborn cheddar that adorns one's penis after a particularly bad bout of the Jessica's.

There was a timid tapping at the door to my office and Stibbles, my assistant, hesitantly stepped in.

I frowned at the interruption.

What the blasted fuck, Stibbles? Can't a man scrape his shank in peace!?

Stibbles lowered his head and did a curious bow-like thing.

Terrible sorry, milord. I have been going over the books and well, I thought it best to tell you what I have found right away.

I reclined in my chair, pulling open a drawer in my desk to get my spare pipe. I set my lips in a stern line. This didn't sound like good news.

Sit down man. What is wrong with the bloody books then?

Stibbles face twitched like a squirrel's penis at the sight of a shiny nut.

Well, you know the markets have been poor lately? It has affected the trade figures quite badly. I am afraid we will have to take action to stay in business.

I stuffed some baccy into my pipe. It was a fine little number from the Nordics, Dunstan's Murk. It had a fine aroma of burnt bone and rust. Just right for this time of year.

I thought our trades were doing rather well. What's that one we recently started, the Scooby?

You mean the Scoby, sir? For the kombucha?

I blew out an indignant puff of smoke in Stibbles direction.

Scooby.

I stated flatly.

I do beg your pardon sir, but it is Scoby.

Stibbles looked quite pained as if he had spent the night with a large and horny pig.

I puffed my left eye as big as I could and hoisted a threatening eyebrow over it.

Scooby.

Stibbles trembled like a gnome at a stonemason.

Yes, of course. What was I thinking? Scooby, yes.

I smiled with satisfaction.

So, the books don't look good in this downturn. What to do? What is your recommended action, my dear Stibbles?

Stibbles coughed self-consciously.

Well, forgive me for being so bold sir. We have a number of staff on the payroll and given our recent fortunes I think we have, too many? Perhaps if we offered a severance package to a small number. Three would do it. It would tide us over till the markets improved.

I puffed my pipe and let silence descend upon us. My eyes never let up on Stibbles. Despite his gaze being fastened to the floor, he seemed resolute.

Eventually, I spoke.

Are you absolutely certain of this, Stibbles? Do you have any suggestions of who should receive such... Severance?

Ahem, yes. Yes, sir. I have three names ready.

I nodded. So be it.

Send them in.

The three men filled in the door dutifully, one of them I even vaguely recognised.

I motioned to Stibbles.

Stibbles, you can leave now. Everything is in hand.

He left, nervously pointing out the paperwork he had left on my desk.

The door closed with a gentle click. I smiled reassuringly at the assembled peons.

Gentlemen, I have no doubt you know what this is about. Times are hard. Profits are down. It means we have to lose some people. Good people, people like yourself. Hard words, I know but these are hard times.

The men looked dismayed, the one I vaguely recognised spoke up. He looked an honest fellow despite having a face like Welshman's caviare.

You mean you are letting us go? Just like that?

I picked disinterestedly at the paperwork before me.

No gentlemen! Do not worry on that score. Oh no. Not at all. Master Stibbles would have had you accept this...

I swept the paperwork to the floor.

Oh yes, a generous offer he thinks. But what does that Mole's penis know of MEN! What does he know of HONOUR! No, I could not insult you by offering you mere money. The shame? How would you go home and face your wives... Your children?

I stood, pulling off my jacket before starting on my shirt buttons.

I could not let you sully your manhood by accepting mere baubles and trinkets. No! Let it be the way that men have ever thus settled things. Let's settle this like GENTLEMEN!

I flung my shirt manfully at a nearby chair and picked up the heavy axe which lay on the floor next to my desk. I hefted its weight in my hands.

One of the men screamed like a fox with an erection and made for the door.

In a mighty leap, I bounded over the desk and sunk the axe into his back. I wrenched it free in a shower of blood and whirled to face the two who were left, scrabbling in haste to get away.

GENTLEMEN, I GIVE YOU THE HONOURABLE WAY OUT!

I advanced on them, a wolven snarl twisting my features.

I closed the door gently behind me and called for Stibbles. He came running at once.

Stibbles, I will need a mop and a wheelbarrow. Chop chop!

Stibbles paused.

Of course Milord. May I ask, how did the men take it?

I moved over and patted his shoulder with a bloodied hand.

I am awfully tempted to say they took it well, old fellow, but you should know...