Behold the stately, mahogany-paneled walls of Jared Nielsen's cubicle. Witness the dark cherry hardwood floors and small turkish rug. Consider the fluted end caps, the artfully hewn carvings of the desk. Now consider your own smelly corporate sarcophagus, covered in thumb tacked spreadsheets and "Hang in there, Kitty!" posters. This is where you will spend 40 hours a week over the next thirty years. This could be the place you die. It's really enough to make you want to beat the crap out of that Jared Nielsen character, isn't it? He sits there just looking oh-so-smug.