Short Story - Get you're own back

Get Your Own Back

Another miserable Monday morning in Cheshire I thought as I looked out of a window of the Ford Motor Group offices. It had to be the most boring building in Britain. Ping. The coffee dispenser let me know that it was ready. I carried the cup to Mr Sharp’s office, being careful not to spill any; if I did he would definitely send it back. He was in a foul mood this morning and I would probably have to bear the brunt of it.
When I arrived at his office he was on the phone to H.Q. in London, I could always tell because he put a false accent on and had a cheesy smile. I had never seen him smile to the rest of us in the office. I waited until he had finished and said. “I’ve brought you your coffee Mr Sharp.” He totally ignored what I had said.
“Pack your bags John, we’re off on an assignment.” In the complaints department we were sent off all over Europe to solve customers’ problems.
“Where are we going sir?” I asked inquisitively.
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