Holiday Surprise

Two accountants, who took pride in having a natural talent for, as
they have told us, calculative exactitude, were anticipating the
upcoming holiday party with excitement. In truth they were well known
for being pedantically precise and almost no one enjoyed their oft-used
gaze that traveled over everything from the grammar in an email and
speech, to manners and varieties of clothing. They had retied ties,
pointed out the need for a shave, or recoiled at a loud shoe-and-blazer
ensemble, even tisked the length of a woman's nails or the color of her
hair. They seemed to pay particular and parental interest to grammar
misuse in speech. This analytic zealotry became a stain on their united
effort to root out ambivalence and poor taste; that is, they lost our
respect. They said they had a surprise for all of us and continued
effectively though also tiresomely to raise our anticipation for the
surprise in the weeks prior to the party. The duo was seen taking on
theatrical poses, whispering to each other dramatically and stopping
abruptly when one of us passed by. They also made a point of talking
overtly about the upcoming surprise or hinting at it during meetings,
around the copy machine, or at any opportunity, fitting or not. Each
moment was intended to bring about a sense of mystery, as though they
held a secret knowledge greater surely than the surprise they would
actually present. The senior manager, miffed over the false
controversy, suggested hiring heavier security in case the accountants
tried to do anything dastardly, she had said, not unjokingly. On the
night of the holiday party, we chatted together and waiting for the big
arrival. Nothing had prepared us, however, for two accountants wearing
matching t-shirts that read, Niggardly.