His voice was cold, hard steel, and sharp as a blade. His eyes blazed with blast furnace intensity. I watched in fascination as shock registered on the managers’ faces, radiating out and hitting Stan like a physical blow at the other end of the room. This was what an atomic bomb looks like at ground zero.

Stan’s facial contortions will be ingrained in my memory for a long time. First, his eyes grew large, much larger than I every thought eyes could get. Then they disappear as he scrunched his face as if he sucked on a lemon. When he could speak, he sputtered, “How dare you speak to me that way! You will regret this.”

“My only regret that I did not say this long ago. You have created a culture where bullies, imbeciles, and laggards rule just because they are fun to be around and hard working employees are marginalized. If that wasn’t bad enough, now you are accusing your managers of impropriety and then denying them a chance to speak. That is not right. This organization is a reflection of its leadership: a disaster.”

By now, Stan had recovered enough to flash a wicked grin. “‘Not right?’ You are not qualified to judge right and wrong. I’ve been in this business longer than you have been alive. I am a nice guy, so I’ll give you a chance to recant before there are consequences. Will you retract your statements?”