Revolver Ocelot

“Oops.” Adamska’s hand trailed across your desk and knocked the thermos of hot coffee off the worn wood of the piece of furniture, where it hit the floor with an unpleasant series of “clacks” and “bangs.” The boss was out of the way at the moment and it was a quiet enough day that Adamska, in all her glorious, charitable personality, had decided to bless you with her presence while you worked. “Burger boy, what’s this? Is it important?” She had picked up one of the many papers, held it over the shredder, and lowered it before pulling it out of the machine’s metal teeth. “I guess.” She stated with a laugh as you took the paper with a sneer, the pen you had been using being knocked off the table by your elbow as you tried to straighten the papers. When you sat back down after grabbing the pen, you were met with Adamska wearing your Diamond Dogs logo beret.