In case you think I'm practising a new language of Petspeak, you're wrong.
It's just the low warning growl of a hacked-off administrator, dealing with cretins, when she should be basking in the sunshine with beer and an ice-cream.
The low warning growl of one who no longer cares that the chief protagonist is twice her weight, nearly a foot taller, and reportedly senior management.
It's going to get narsty....
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