Can I talk to you for a second, Björk?

Thanks for coming in, Björk, please have a seat.

It’s been a little while since we had a chat. How’ve you been?

Wow, that’s great! I can’t believe you’re back in the studio. I would think you’d still be busy with Volta, which is really great. You know, keep this up and you’ll have to put out another best-of collection. I’ve been a big fan since you put out Post, and… well, you know all of this already. Björk

Anyway, I think you know why I called you in here. And of course, this isn’t the first time we had to have this talk. Plus, while this was already building, last Friday’s incident brought everything to a head. I want to state for the record that this is not personal and that I hope we can keep this professional. But there has been a serious pattern of inappropriate conduct since you began here.

On Tuesday, the 18th of last month, we can agree you assumed a scorpion yoga pose, otherwise known as Vrschikasana, on a leather office chair right out front and meditated for an hour.

On Thursday, the 27th of last month, we can agree that you spent the better part of 7 hours completely covered in gold body paint, correct? And that anyone who spoke to you that day only received responses in the form of the high-pitch cooing of that venom-spitting dilophosaurus from Jurassic Park?

On the 4th of this month, you flagellated yourself using metal safety cables, cursing in Mandarin and smearing the blood of your wounds on the windows to spell out what roughly translates to “Greed Demon Escorts Damnation.” You were promptly sent home to get cleaned up.

Finally, on the 11th, a day you should not have even been here, you set up a one-person performance piece outside, in which the word “Happiness” was across written your stomach and you simulated being mauled by a paper-mache grizzly bear with the word “Money” painted on its back, all while thumping electronic beats emanated from a cartoonishly large boombox. You did this for 3 hours.

Look, obviously this is not the right way to do business, Björk. You’re not in Iceland anymore, this is America; we do things differently here. And sure, that yoga thing was during your lunch break, but it gave other people an odd impression of the company, if it did not drive them away like your bloody Chinese letters did or your occasional yodeling does. And you know that while I am a big fan of yours (and a friend, I hope!), I am also your direct superior. I have to address these issues with you.

But I think that you can only give so many verbal and written reprimands before serious action has to occur. Again, this is not personal. And I don’t want this to be something that soils your perception of the company. This is clearly a business decision where we have to protect the company and our loyal customers. I hope you understand.

I’m sorry, Björk, but we’re going to have to let you go.

As of today, you no longer work for Home Depot. Please hand in your orange apron.

And good luck on the next album.

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