Office Tedium.

The previous evening my friends and I were discussing a most rewarding topic, viz. if one were to go "chicken oriental" in the work-place, shooting indiscriminatly at your colleages in a cathartic explosion of nihilistic fury, what song would be playing through your headphones?
During the terrible act itself, we decided (within a worryingly short time) on "What's a matter you? (Shaddap a your face!)," by Joe Dolce. We felt that the upbeat pastiche of Italian-American domestic life would provide the orgy of slaying with a certain rhythm, the blasts of the shot-gun nicely timed to match the repeated "hey!"
For the immediate aftermath, when you gaze at the smoldering carnage around you before reaching into your pocket with blood-caked hands and taking out the crumpled photograph of your
long-lost sweetheart, giving it one last kiss before turning the gun on yourself, we opted for Ultravox's "Vienna".


(One last sob.)
The feeling has gone only you and I.
(look at the photo of your lost love and realise that when she promised to love you forever she actually meant just under two years.)
It means nothing to me.
(place the gun in your mouth and mourn for all that you have lost)
This means nothing to me.
(BLAM!)
Oh Vienna!