The company's new VP's first meeting, he called me out publicly: "Your performance over the past six months is the worst. Do you think you still have a chance?"

I didn't say anything. He continued: "If you have no hope, you should clear out your workstation early."
The conference room was so quiet that only the sound of the air conditioning remained. I opened my laptop and projected a document onto the screen. It was the seven arbitration cases I had won for the company over the past three years, each one only settled on the last day. The VP stared at the screen, his face gradually turning pale.
I said: "That half-year you just mentioned, I was cleaning up after your department. Last year, you laid off a group of pregnant women, and at the beginning of this year, you laid off a group of disabled employees who hadn't passed their probation. Every time you laid someone off, I had to handle the aftermath. I still have three unresolved arbitration cases, and you don't know who the plaintiffs are, but the defendant is this company. If you want me to clear out my workstation now, I can do that. I will push all three arbitration cases simultaneously, and on the day of the hearing, you will be sitting in the defendant's seat, and I will have the workstation completely cleared."
The VP put down his pen. Everyone on the entire floor was watching me. I closed my laptop, stood up, and said the last words: "The person with the worst performance is the one who files the most lawsuits against the company. Do you want to take back what you just said?"
He didn't say anything.
The next day, HR sent an email to all staff: the new VP was transferred from his original position. The cup of freshly brewed tea on his desk was still steaming, but he was no longer in the building.