Dear Boss,
It is with a heavy heart that I must tender my resignation, not only because I so enjoyed hiding raw crab in your ceiling panels every now and again--yup, that's that smell--but also because I'll now have to purchase red stapler with my own money. (Let me tell you, Boss, after several years with the company, my house is stocked like a Staples!)
It is true that under your leadership, Boss, I have learned the art of listening to you rabbit on with a degree of precision and grace rarely seen in today's business culture. But listening to you rabbit on just doesn't stoke the furnace of my intellect the way cleaning the grease trap does, you know? I reckon we can't all be as simple as that toady jagoff in the cubicle next to mine.
In any case, it's all a moot point now, because my shrewd if ethically questionable investments in the competition have made me very well-off. It's hard to walk away, Boss, but I'm managing. I'll shortly be retiring to Hawaii--a little bungalow with a guest cabana, view of the water, helipad, that sort of thing. You needn't feel obligated to write.
Oh, and my little 401(k)--would you please kick those funds over to the United Way team leader next time he comes around? Thanks, buddy.
Tropically,
Aharami
P.S. See you in minimum-security. Also: up yours!