Pity party

Samantha shrugged. "If you don't want others talking shit about you, then don't talk shit about others, you pimply bitch. Admit it, you're just jealous of Lucia. That's why you always talk bad about her. Why don't you try cleaning up your shitty personality first, then maybe you would also be favored by the manager."

Samantha's words stung Bridget like a swarm of bees. She clenched her fists and tried to charge towards her, but her friends held her back. 

"Don't, we're still at work. You could get fired," they said, trying to calm her down. 

Bridget inhaled and exhaled loudly, clearly angry. She glared at Samantha, who didn't care. She smiled, watching her squirm. "No, no, you all should let her go. I can handle her." Samantha said, raising her hand in a fists. "Come on and see what my fists are made of. I'll gladly make you my bitch." 

One of Bridget's followers interrupted, "Enough, Samantha."