#fxrynicholasj

Snapping the file from the intern's hands, Arlette gave them a sharp glare before storming her way to the elevator. What did she do to get saddled with the trio she had dubbed 'Space Monkeys' as her interns? The were good agents, going out on a limb she would even say great, but their skills as journalists lacked...everywhere. One had treated written English like it was their seventh language, another was so married to the rules it left them with an almost crippling fear of being wrong, and the last one had the people skills of a pissed of cobra. It was a train wreck she was supposed to make into a well-oiled team to help her in Public Relations.

“The Director's Office,” she told the elevator while flipping through the folders to triple check they included everything she needed for the meeting. All she needed was to arrive to a meeting and get dressed down-again-for their mistakes. There were only so many heavy, metal staplers she could drop on toes before someone caught on. Maybe she could petition for shock collars to help train them? That would certainly make things for interesting around PR.

Stepping out of the elevator on her floor the small brunette took a deep breathe to calm herself down before straightening her clothes. Now was the time to pull out her game face and pretend she had far better control of the Monkeys then she really did. They listened in the end; it took a lot of screaming and threats but they listened.