A Masterclass in 'Helpfulness'

Barnaby was a man whose optimism was so blinding, it often caused temporary vision impairment in others. When his colleague, Brenda, accidentally tipped an entire pot of coffee onto her pristine white shirt, Barnaby clapped his hands. 'Oh, how wonderful! Now it’s a lovely, rustic, avant-garde design. So chic! You’re practically a walking art exhibit, Brenda, truly cutting-edge.'

Later that week, Brenda presented a quarterly report riddled with enough errors to make an accountant weep. Barnaby, ever the supportive friend, patted her shoulder. 'Excellent work! You've certainly set a new benchmark for… 'unconventional data presentation'. It's bold, it's fresh, it's utterly unreadable! Truly, a masterpiece of modern statistical anarchy.'

Brenda often wondered if Barnaby truly believed his own platitudes, or if he was simply honing his craft as the world's most subtly infuriating human being. She suspected the latter, and sometimes, just sometimes, she considered him a genius. A very, very annoying genius.