It could be worse program

I wish Walter, I mean Lord Evil Guy, had never seen those management tutorials over at despair.com - he really bought into their philosophy 100%.

Whenever he calls me, my fork gives me a shock. Imagine a bolt of lightning that's trying to French kiss you (except it doesn't have any lips or tongue, just raw voltage) and kick you in the jimmy (again, no fat cushioned knee, just pure godlike smiting power) at the same time. Let me tell you, it hurts. It hurts bad.

I complained to him about it, once. I asked for a bluetooth headset instead. I reasoned that if he wants me to perform my job as efficiently as possible, then that's justification for providing me with the state-of-the-art tools I need to get the job done. Wouldn't you agree?

He didn't.

His response was to call me.

Repeatedly.

Then, while my fur was growing back, he made me write "I love my job" one million times on a blackboard. He didn't provide me any chalk, so I had to scratch it in with my fork. Have I mentioned that Imps have sensative hearing? That we don't like high-pitched noises that aren't our own voices? Now any time I hear any squeaky noises, I involuntarily burst into tears and shout "I love my job!"

Walter really knows how to punish someone.