Instinct

"You're a climber," Devon said (and Nigel spun around). "OF COURSE I'M A CLIMBER!" he responded. "I see nothing whatsoever wrong with that! I want my focus to be rewarded with recognition! I want my contributions to count!" "Fabulous cash and prizes, eh?" Devon chided him, amused. "It's PRIMAL to want to succeed!" Nigel continued, leaning in. "It's INSTINCTIVE. It's NATURAL. Secure the objective and you will survive to thrive. Slackers are not natural, slackers are food." "Good to know," Devon replied, smiling into his coffee. "So, what's next for you in your race to the top of the food chain? Are you going to start marking your territory? Shall I notify Facilities NOT to scrub your alpha superiority off of the door jambs?" FOOD!" Nigel blasted again and stormed off. "He's going to be impossible for the rest of the day," Eugenie commented over the cube wall (at the sound of the exit). "First, you rile them up," Devon said, sitting down at his desk, "to get them distracted, rattled, sloppy." "And then?" Eugenie asked, intrigued. "You take 'em down," came the answer (and Devon's tone was surprisingly cold).