Introduction

The last time Deadline Assassin Andy signed off on anything was a refund on his rail fare – and even then, he only managed it because the ticket inspector shoved the form under his nose before the barrier closed.

Trying to get this dimwit to approve anything is like trying to get a cat to file its own tax return. Need more budget for your project that’s slowly sliding into a corporate rubbish tip? Forget it. Andy’s pen has less ink on paper than a toddler’s colouring book.

This guy is the slopey-shouldered product. He exists purely to avoid accountability. His smug grin suggests he’s “on top of it,” but in reality, he’s just weaponising; procrastination. Approval forms pile up like junk mail on a doorstep, and the longer he holds onto them, the more he feeds off your frustration.

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Office BantomimeJames Mason

Andy isn’t a manager; he’s a professional bottleneck. He thrives on the suspense, the endless Teams pings, the frantic “just chasing this up” emails that vanish into his inbox black hole.

Somewhere in that pile of paperwork, there’s a critical supplier contract, an urgent budget extension, and a health & safety sign-off that should’ve been approved three months ago. Andy? He’ll get to it after lunch. Or maybe after his next lunch. Or never.

> Sending approval request to Andy...
...Processing
...Processing
...Processing
ERROR: Document lost in Andy's inbox black hole

He’s the kind of guy who:

• Smiles while killing deadlines – like a Bond villain, but less classy.
• Talks endlessly about “process” but hasn’t taken action on a thing since the iPod was cool.
• Believes holding your paperwork hostage makes him important. Spoiler: it doesn’t.
• Secretly takes pleasure in knowing you will have to explain to the director why nothing moved forward.

If Andy were an Olympic athlete, his event would be “100m Hurdles of Avoidance.” If he were a superhero, his power would be Invisibility at Approval Time. If he were a kitchen appliance, he’d be the toaster that only burns your bread.

How does he survive? By doing nothing so spectacularly that no one can quite prove he’s at fault. It’s always “waiting on more information” or “just needs another review.” By the time anyone notices, the deadline has passed, the project has collapsed, and Andy is already shrugging his way into another meeting with the same smug grin.

And yet, there he stands: the Deadline Assassin. Not with bullets, but with a biro and a refusal to use it.

Cock!

👉 Final Thought: If you ever need something approved by Deadline Assassin Andy, do yourself a favour—print it on a pizza box. That’s the only thing he might actually open.