Ah, let me regale you with a tale of corporate cruelty, where the CFO, a mistress of malevolence draped in the finest silk of greed, orchestrates a symphony of layoffs and misery with chilling efficiency.
With a heart as cold as the ledgers she worships, she prowls through the company's corridors, her eyes gleaming with avarice. Her lips curl into a cruel smile as she decrees the need for austerity, her voice a sharp blade cutting through the air with ruthless precision.
"Behold, employees ," she declares, her words dripping with venom, "the time has come to tighten our belts and trim the fat. We shall slash expenses with the precision of a surgeon's scalpel, until our profit margins shine like gold."
With a flick of her wrist, she sets her plan into motion, slashing budgets and gutting departments with the callousness of a butcher. The once vibrant Baker Hughes, now resembles a graveyard, its halls haunted by the ghosts of those whose livelihoods have been sacrificed upon the altar of corporate greed.
But the CFO cares not for the human cost of her actions, for her soul is as barren as the wasteland she leaves in her wake. She revels in the chaos she sows, delighting in the suffering of those who dare to oppose her will.
As the company's expenses plummet and profits soar, she basks in her triumph, a smirk of satisfaction playing upon her lips. Amidst the chaos and ruin, there is one thing that brings a gleam of joy to her cold, calculating eyes: her impending bonus. Yes, even as the cries of the displaced echo in her ears, she cannot help but feel a surge of anticipation at the thought of the riches that await her.