Puck is the offensive twat that sits opposite me at work. I call him Puck because he continually fucks things up and then maliciously manages to heap the blame onto someone else, which is a miracle in itself because he has the IQ of a post-it. There is a five-month history of animosity between us.
All I asked of him was that he try to whole punch documents in the right place so that when they go into the lever arch file they actually fit, instead of sticking out two inches at the bottom or top. That way, perhaps they won't resemble hamster bedding when we come to use them again. I mean, it's not asking much, is it? The whole punch even has a slide rule so you can measure up paperwork properly before fully committing to a punch.
He just smirked and said, "No need to get stressed. They're only holes." Noob.
About an hour later I was pulling some more of his handy work from a file when I noticed that he manages to drill about twenty staples into each document that passes by his desk. I coughed lightly;
"Puck, do you own a staple extracter?"
"Then would you mind exercising it occassionally?"
"Just so when we need to foward this paperwork to legal, it doesn't resemble an extra from Transformers."
"God, you're so anal."