Today's Dilbert:
My real life equivalent began when when some equipment on the roof caught fire, leaving a thin haze of smoke, and the smell of burning electrical equipment, wafting through the whole building. We were all wondering what was going on, when a phone call from the pointy-haired president, and not the pointy-haired boss, said, "This happens every year, and is no big deal. The fire department will be there shortly. Keep working. Anybody who leaves the building will be fired."
I looked out the window, and saw pointy-hair-president issuing his orders from a payphone (this was before cellular) across the street, where he could remain safe, and catch all those disloyal peons who don't like to be ordered to remain inside a burning building.
This was the same company that let a deranged man with a gun into the building, looking to kill his girlfriend, after the armed rent-a-cop buzzed the nut in, and then vanished, never to be seen again.