“For he’s a jolly good fellow,
For he’s a jolly good fellow,
For he’s a jolly good fellow,
Which nobody can deny!”
Great singing, everybody!
Now, as you all know, this is Michael’s last day with the company. Tracy in accounting baked him this delicious cake and Randy over in marketing did one of his infamous cubicle pranks to really get the day revved up.
And now, in our final send-off, we have collectively sung Michael’s praises, bestowing upon him the title of “jolly good fellow.” Through his three years here, Michael has truly done everything to live up to that name, and as we have now all sung, nobody can deny that fact.
And if any of you here today want to try to deny that Michael is a jolly good fellow, hear this: I will tear out your fucking throat.
I’m looking at you, Todd. You contrarian. You shithead. You, possibly better than anyone here, know how jolly a fellow Michael has been during his time here. He’s earned that moniker, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let anyone – especially you – take this away from him on his last day in the office.
For the rest of you, don’t look at me like that, your mouths agape, the drool beginning to pool at the corners of your wretched faces. I know you’re all secretly plotting to spread the categorically FALSE rumor that Michael is not a jolly good fellow the moment he leaves this office. But understand that even though Michael has left us, I will protect his reputation as a jolly good fellow with a vigilance and ferocity that will shake you to your core.
But hey, I don’t want to bring down the mood on Michael’s last day! This is supposed to be a celebration of his excellent work; I’m sure everyone here remembers the content management system that he developed for us. And, most importantly, I think I’ve made it abundantly clear that everyone will be remembering Michael’s jolly good demeanor, for fear of me clawing out your eyes like a feral cat.
And if I’m being honest with myself, I know I would enjoy it. I’d enjoy tearing into your flesh, watching the blood spurt out and dance along the walls of the break room. You see, it would be something of a sexual release for me to watch any of you Michael-deniers writhe on the floor in agony, begging to be put out of your misery (though you’ll find begging difficult, having just had your throat ripped out), wishing you could have just been content accepting Michael’s jolly nature.
There isn’t a jury in the world that would convict me after hearing what you did. You’d become a stain on your family’s legacy, a grotesque shadow that follows them wherever they go. Something they’ll never be able to escape. As the years go by, they’ll curse God – curse you – looking up to the sky and screaming, “Why! Why couldn’t they have just accepted Michael! It’s plain to see he’s a jolly good fellow! Why God, why!!!!”
And there you will be, spending your eternity in hell as Satan’s pet, wondering the same thing.
Now let’s dig into this cake!
