You don't get to where Mr. Anderson is in life by being a pussy. Where he is in life right now is on the top of Sun Corporation, having replaced the previous CEO, Murdok The Scalper in a trial by combat.
Mr. Anderson walked in the break room for his morning coffee and was greeted by the sight of the Amelia, the office administrator, and two of the new interns. Of course, he's not going to wait for the coffee machine. His presence is announced by the loud metallic clink of his black dress shoes. Amelia is the first to turn, and she immediately curtsies and moves aside. One of the interns, a short, skinny college grad with that uncoordinated movement that used to be typical of the industry a few years back, recognizes him.
"Oh, you must be mister Anderson. Pleasure to meet you sir, I'm Danny. I'm shadowing Ms. Tomowitz in the marketing department."
Mr. Anderson fixes his gaze on Danny the Intern's extended hand. It takes him a little while to process what his seeing. His face reddens, his jaw becomes more pronounced as he grinds his teeth, and he slowly raises his eyes to meet Danny's.
Boy, what a shitty way to start the day.
Then he bitchslaps him, hard.
"You do not address me as Mr. Anderson, you little shit stain. To you, I am Anderson the Tall, Destroyer of Murdok, Commander of the Sun. You are to use my full title at all times. Are we clear on that?"
Danny the Intern is down on the floor, blood on his red cheek where the metal spikes in the Mr. Anderson's stylish leather glove made contact with skin. He manages a nod.
Mr. Anderson steps over his body. One glance towards the other intern, a chubby girl, is enough to elicit a shriek and hurried movement away from the machine.
Mr. Anderson pours coffee in his mug, a gift from his son with a colorful Megatron image. He carefully, almost ritually, adds milk and brown sugar. He sips, and turns around to watch Danny the Intern crawl away. His anger from before melts away, he can almost feel the hangover and sluggishness drain away.
He doesn't move from the coffee machine. The interns can wait. Amelia has escaped the room. If there is any emotion on his face, it's contentment. Danny doesn't know it, but he's already a step ahead of the other intern. He challenged Mr. Anderson's authority, and even though he lost...
Something's wrong. Mr. Anderson's heart starts beating faster and faster, cold sweat breaks out on his forehead, his muscles stiffen. Danny rises with graciousness that wasn't there before, that implies many years of training. He looks at Mr. Anderson, and he smirks a little.
"Anderson the Tall, Destroyer of Murdok, Commander of the Sun, I think you are an incompetent leader, a useless drain on this company, I think you are not befitting of the CEO title. By the powers granted to me by the Oslo convention, ratified by the US, I challenge you to a duel."
Of course. The coffee. How silly of him. Mr. Anderson tries to focus his vision on Danny, and, fighting down nausea, asks:
"Who.. who sent you?"
Danny the Intern, of course, doesn't respond. He pointedly looks at the girl who never introduced herself, and she says, almost bored "I guess I forgot to mention it on my CV, buuuut I'm also a notary. Feel free, Danny."
And before Mr. Anderson manages to react, Danny's punch hits him square on the chin. He tries to fling the hot coffee in Danny's face, but he slaps the mug out of his hand, then punches him in the stomach.
"Submit!", yells Danny, and circles around the doubled over, tall man. When he doesn't respond, Danny kicks him in the face. You don't have to be particularly strong to break bones, if you know what you're doing.
He walks around, and almost gently props Mr. Anderson against the counter.
"Submit", says Danny, again. Mr. Anderson doesn't respond.
Danny sighs, and punches him in the teeth. Mr. Anderson's head bounces back to hit the counter, and the blood from his broken nose drips into his open mouth.
Danny stands, curses and shakes his hand, as if that's going to make the throbbing pain go away.
He kneels back to Mr. Anderson, grips his face so it stares up into his, and whispers, for the third time, "Submit". Look at me, Mr. Anderson, I don't want to do this, he wants to say. But there is only rage and defiance in Mr. Anderson's eyes. Danny's hands move down, to the throat, and he starts choking.
One of Anderson's hands shoots up and grabs Danny's throat in turn. He slowly rises, using his other hand to steady himself against the counter. He has easily a foot of height on Danny the Intern, and at least eighty pounds of pure muscle. Danny's feet are no longer touching the ground, he is uselessly trashing.
Anderson shifts his weight, and throws his down, head first. There is a loud crack, and if Danny isn't dead altogether, then he at least suffers brain damage. Anderson the Tall, Destroyer of Murdok, Commander of the Sun, wipes the blood away and spits a tooth over the unmoving corpse.
The break room is still empty, save for a short, skinny, very possibly dead college graduate on the floor and a tall, bloodied man in a black suit. You don't get to his position in life by being a pussy.