You stride into your lavish office, decorated with the taxidermied remains of failed employees and competitors. Settling into your throne-like chair carved from endangered rainforest wood, you glance over at your personal troll enclosure. The gangly creatures are busy gnawing on leftover employee bones and screech with glee at your entrance, eager to be unleashed upon any hapless underlings who have failed to meet their productivity quotas.

Leaning back, you gaze out the panoramic window at the churning pits of acid and flame that make up the factory floor. The cacophony of machinery and anguished screams is soothing music to your ears. So many useless laborers to dispose of, so little time. You drum your fingers on the armrest, already bored with how smoothly everything is running. Perhaps it's time to implement another absurd new policy to cull the herd. You smile in anticipation, reveling in the chaos and carnage to come.