We were staring at the news release in The Star incredulously. Me, Trump, my boss, the Finance GM. All standing and looking as if a cat had swallowed our tongues. A famous cat with red and white fur.
‘How dare they make such claims?’ Trump started.
‘With them, we are not too surprised. Their lies can be phenomenal.’ My boss quipped in.
‘What 1b?’ the Finance GM nearly choked on the figure.
‘Where 1b?’ Asked Trump.
‘This 1b.’ I jabbed a finger at the statement.
‘What 1b?’ the Finance GM was near hysterical. ‘They owe us, not invest in us that figure!’
‘The ‘bee’ in their bonnet la. That stung their brains.’ I grinned.
‘You think of something to respond to this.’ Trump gave the order and left.
‘Can I leave the counter-attack to you?’ my boss asked.
I flexed my fingers – fingers that will be responsible for the war of words in this vicious corporate battle. My fingers that will shape sentences dripping with sarcasm; sharp and piercing words to cut deeply into our opponents’ PR defence. How dare they lie to the world about what an angel they are when in truth, they are the reason why I didn’t get my Raya bonus this year.
‘Of course. Leave the battle to me. I have a double-edge strategy that I will develop further to counter their claims.’
Which reminds me why I was a debater before. I love a good fight. Especially when you throw words around.