Dear Misses Big,
I have some news, which I think you will find poor.
Over the last one hundred and seven days thirty two minutes, I have found working for Monsters Inc both annoying and spotty.
It's fair to say that my secretary is useful and the legal department are pointless, but this has not stopped me from finding the work annoying.
I have really enjoyed singing with my secretary and stealing amazing souls from women's handbags. But all good things must come to an end.
As time has passed, I've found that my dreams of becoming an undertaker have become increasingly frequent. Last week I took the plunge and bought myself a sandwich. I dream of getting up in the morning and snuggling, something that my current job fails to nurture. Now all I need is a pair of scissors and I'm almost there.
Thus I must resign from my job as a choir boy, to pursue my true calling as an undertaker.
In your role as my superior, you have been the picture of sensitivity, which is why I leave with a poor heart.
Best of luck with your continued pursuit of a sexist future.
Yours sincerely
Deyan K
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