They come in the night, slurping into the corporation on little fat feet. Before you know it, they're right at the heart of the granary bin, munching away at the precious harvest of organizational life, which, of course, is trust. They are the weasels, the stoats, the plump rodentine offal eaters who live in the interstitial fabric of the family, darting between, among, under - looking for any scrap of sustenance that will keep them alive. They have teeth. They carry fear. They want you to like them. And maybe you will. Watch out. There's one coming to an office near you. When he does arrive, beware. They breed.
- From "A Rat's Tale" in The Big Bing: Black Holes of Time Management, Gaseous Executive Bodies, Exploding Careers, and Other Theories on the Origins of the Business Universe by Stanley Bing (2003)