Downsizing Robin Hood

The accountant stood in the locked office bathroom. Phantasmagoria marinated inside her. She held a small laser, watching the door.  With the laptop, open and ready, the numbered screen waited for her command.

This was it.  This was slaughter time. All those years of hiding and cooking dollars for what? A pink slip and no severance. It’s the economy they said.

She looked at the screen and finalized the transactions. Money flew from all over the world to bank accounts held by the little guy, millions of dollars gone in an instant.

Now upper management may have to downsize themselves.