In Over Her Head by Elsie Russell - Parnasse.com

Ula walked up to her and slapped her. She smelled like shit.
"You touch him again and I'll kill you," Ula hissed.
Penny got up, slammed on the fluorescents. "Uh unh, I don't
think so. My turn."
Pale fire flickered from Ula's serpentine slits.
"Oh, I'm really scared," Penny said, not untruthfully, as she
spun back to her computer, Ula in the periphery of her vision.
"You don't make backup files, if I remember?" Penny typed
madly. Hacking other people's sites wasn't exactly in her repertoire, but
she had learned a thing or two at M.I.T. and knew the power of a
carefully positioned UNIX rm -rf *.
"Files?" Ula inquired.
"Keep everything on the web, right? Brisé volé disparu…voila!"
"What?"
"I zapped you out of cyberspace. Don't ever hit me again." (She
had tarred up the site before destroying it, just in case.)
"You what?"
"You heard me."
Ula sat back down, taking a second to digest.
"You're fired! we'll sue you!" her royal highness said. With more
urgency she crushed and kneaded the shirt, sending fecal clouds into
the room.
"No, I'll sue you, and you know what for! And hey, you didn't
hire me, he did, and he works for me now, capice?"
"Who the fuck do you think you are?" Ula managed to squint
down at her from her seat on the sofa, as if she really was a person of
authority.
Penny called out to him, still standing in front of the console,
typed, pulled out disks, slapped in more, backing up all systems.
“Could you please come down here? It's important.
Showdown, Amigo. Forza del Destino!”
Ula started to get up.
"Sit down. Ula, how would you like some tea? Coffee, maybe?
We need to talk."
Penny left the computer and went to the counter, put grounds
in the pot, patted them down, screwed in the top, and slammed Mr.
Mocha down on the flame.
She figured, get Ula in social mode, minimize the reaction. The
odor of Ula's slap rose to her nostrils over the fresh coffee grounds, so
she wet a paper towel and rubbed her cheek as the coffee gurgled up.
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