The Almirah Sting Operation
The executive office of the Vice President of Kavilson Steel was usually a place of terrifying, quiet productivity. Filoska was sitting behind her massive mahogany desk, her aristocratic posture perfectly straight as she aggressively reviewed a stack of international shipping ledgers.
Standing nervously on the other side of the desk was a male corporate employee. He was sweating slightly, leaning forward to pass her the documents. However, his eyes were absolutely not looking at the financial data. His gaze had drifted noticeably lower, locked directly and inappropriately onto Filoska's chest.
Suddenly, the heavy metal doors of the massive document almirah in the corner of the room violently burst open.
"AHA!"
Kniya and Malesh practically tumbled out of the cramped metal storage space, completely covered in dust and old paper files.
Filoska dropped her pen, jumping back in her chair. The employee completely froze, his face turning a horrific shade of pale white.
"We absolutely knew that this degenerate behavior was happening!" Kniya yelled dramatically, throwing his hands in the air like a hardened detective making a bust. "This office is totally destroyed! The corporate culture is completely ruined! This highly prestigious executive suite has officially been converted into a fucking brothel!"
Kniya and Malesh were both biting their lips, violently struggling to suppress their own laughter and keep their serious act together.
Malesh stepped forward. His face was a perfect, deadpan mask, but his eyes were shining with absolute, unfiltered amusement. He opened his mouth and literally started providing his own police siren sound effects.
"Wee-woo. Wee-woo. Wee-woo," Malesh chanted in a flat, monotone voice. He slowly shook his head, looking at his best friend. "What can we even do about this tragic moral decay, Kniya? It is incredibly sad to witness."
Malesh then turned his deadpan gaze toward the terrified employee, delivering his lecture with cold, pragmatic precision.
"I am fully aware that they are massive," Malesh stated flatly. "And I logically understand that big things naturally attract big people, and consequently, big eyes. However, you are absolutely not authorized to look at them. That is severe employee misconduct. You are a terrible subordinate."
Kniya immediately puffed out his chest, aggressively pointing a sharp finger right in the guy's face.
"Yeah, exactly! What the fuck is going on here?!" Kniya interrogated loudly. "Why were you trying to have a sneak peek at her breasts?!"
The employee completely panicked, his hands flying up defensively as he backed away.
"No, sir! Please, this is not true!" the employee stuttered wildly, his voice cracking. "I was absolutely not doing that thing! I was just passing her the documents! Ma'am, tell them! I was just looking at the documents!"
The Newspaper Blackmail
Malesh completely ignored the employee's frantic defense. He simply turned his head toward a second massive document almirah on the opposite side of the room.
"Salesh," Malesh called out flatly. "Did you record the evidence?"
The heavy metal doors of the second almirah screeched open. Salesh squeezed his way out, holding a highly expensive analog camera and looking incredibly cramped and dusty.
"Yeah, I have successfully recorded all the data," Salesh announced confidently, tapping the camera lens. "I have already conceptualized a massive promotional poster for this. This scandal is going to absolutely boom the headlines of tomorrow's morning newspaper!"
"Exactly," Malesh nodded smoothly. He turned his attention to Filoska, who was currently staring at all three of them with an expression of pure, murderous fury.
"Filoska, you know that this is a really wrong thing," Malesh advised her, speaking like a highly supportive, yet entirely corrupt HR representative. "You are a prominent corporate feminist, and you should definitely take severe action against him. He was doing some highly inappropriate things, so you must confront him right now. And subsequently, we are going to publish this entire interaction in my favorite daily newspaper."
Malesh smoothly adjusted his dusty silk tie, openly stating his true capitalist motive without a single ounce of shame.
"Because I am getting paid a massive royalty for the exclusive scoop," Malesh added deadpan. "And Kniya and Salesh are taking a cut as well. So please, confront him for our profit margins."
The employee completely dropped to his knees on the plush carpet, tears actively spilling down his cheeks as he realized his entire life was about to be ruined for a newspaper payout.
"No, sir! Please don't do this!" the employee begged frantically, pressing his hands together. "I am really, really sorry! I swear to God, I will never talk to a girl in my entire life, sir! Please!"
The Breach of Privacy
Filoska slowly stood up from her executive chair. The sheer, terrifying aura of the aristocratic Vice President filled the room, making the air feel instantly freezing.
"Yeah," Filoska whispered, her voice dangerously low and sharp as she locked eyes with Malesh. "I am definitely going to confront him. I will take action."
She slowly walked around the desk. The employee braced himself for impact, squeezing his eyes shut and crying into his hands.
Filoska didn't even look at the employee. She walked straight past him, wound up her arm, and delivered a massive, full-force, absolutely devastating punch directly into Malesh's stomach.
"OOF!" Malesh folded completely in half, all the oxygen violently leaving his lungs as he collapsed onto the carpet, clutching his gut.
"What the fuck?!" Kniya yelled, jumping backward in shock.
Filoska's aristocratic composure completely shattered into absolute, homicidal rage.
"You guys are infinitely more perverted than this fucking idiot!" Filoska roared at the top of her lungs, aggressively pointing at Kniya, Salesh, and the gasping Malesh. "This is my private office! You three absolute psychos broke into my room and actively hid inside my fucking filing almirahs without my permission! Do you think that is not a massive breach of my privacy?!"
The Demolition Order
Kniya aggressively puffed out his chest, stepping right up to Filoska's mahogany desk to completely shut down her aristocratic rage.
"Listen to me very carefully," Kniya declared loudly, gesturing wildly around the luxurious office. "This is my company! And this is my company's headquarters! I can do absolutely whatever I want, wherever I can, wherever I want to enter, and wherever I want to hide myself in! This is my property, and I can do whatever the fuck I want!"
Kniya took a deep, dramatic breath. He spun around, pointing a sharp, authoritative finger directly at Salesh and the gasping Malesh.
"Okay, guys, we need to take immediate administrative action!" Kniya ordered, completely doubling down on his chaotic energy. "We need to show Filoska exactly who the real boss of this company is! You need to start taking all the things out of her room! Start ripping the bricks out of the walls, remove the ceiling fans, and throw the tables out! It is really important to establish dominance! Get on duty right now!"
Malesh slowly picked himself up from the carpet, clutching his stomach. His face instantly snapped back to a perfect, deadpan void. Next to him, Salesh straightened his dusty suit.
"Yes, sir," Malesh and Salesh replied in perfect, robotic synchronization.
They both delivered a crisp, military-style salute to Kniya and immediately turned around. Salesh literally grabbed a heavy brass desk lamp to throw it out the window, while Malesh crouched down and began aggressively pulling at the edge of the expensive carpet to rip it off the floor.
"Stop your fucking nonsense right now!" Filoska roared, slamming both her hands onto her desk.
Kniya immediately backpedaled, throwing his hands up in completely fake innocence.
"Whoa, why are you always so angry, Filoska?!" Kniya complained loudly. "I was literally just joking! These guys took that joke way too seriously—that is entirely their problem! You are always complaining against us, even though we didn't do anything wrong!"
The Tomato Sauce Tragedy
While Kniya was actively gaslighting his Vice President, the terrified, perverted employee saw his golden opportunity. Moving in complete silence, the employee crept backward out of the executive suite and frantically sprinted down the hallway, seamlessly escaping the room before he could be fired or beaten.
Malesh let go of the carpet and slowly leaned closer to Kniya. He kept his voice low, but in the quiet office, it carried perfectly.
"Kniya," Malesh whispered, his dark eyes analyzing the situation with pure, deadpan logic. "I mathematically know one thing. She absolutely has a massive crush on that perverted employee. That is exactly why she didn't shout at him, and instead of that, she punched me. And it really hurts bad."
Filoska's eye twitched violently. She had heard every single word.
"I can literally hear you, you idiot," Filoska hissed.
She aggressively cracked her knuckles, the sharp sound echoing like gunshots in the quiet room. Before Malesh could even adjust his tie, Filoska completely closed the distance and delivered a brutal, merciless punch directly to Malesh's mouth.
"Ugh!" Malesh grunted heavily, crashing hard onto the floor. This time, it wasn't a comedic reaction. He rolled over and literally spit a streak of dark, genuine blood onto the expensive rug.
Kniya crouched down next to his bleeding best friend, leaning in close to whisper a highly profound piece of corporate wisdom.
"Malesh," Kniya whispered softly, shaking his head. "Speaking the absolute truth is not always right. Sometimes you just have to lie to survive."
Filoska didn't hesitate. She spun around and delivered a flawless, devastating punch directly to Kniya's jaw.
Kniya violently tumbled backward onto the floor. But because he was Kniya, he absolutely refused to lose the theatrical performance. The moment his back hit the carpet, he frantically reached into his blazer pocket, pulled out a small, crinkled packet of fast-food tomato sauce, bit the top off, and aggressively squeezed the bright red ketchup straight into his mouth.
He let his head loll to the side, letting the cheap tomato sauce slowly spread and drip out of his mouth like a fatal hemorrhage, actively playing dead.