You did WHAT?
You really are a jumped-up, snotty little cockweasel, and I'm pleased I no longer have to work with you even if it does mean you've just landed a huge pile of utter shit on my desk the week before I go on holiday.
But while I'm at it, who the bloody hell do you think you are? I don't arrange my team's appointments because it's condescending, not always convenient, and assumes a hierarchy which I'm not all that keen on. But that hierarchy does still exist, so what made you think you could organise appointments for me? Was that the benefit of your ONE MONTH's experience? Or was it the intelligence you acquired through your third in business studies from the University of [name deleted to protect the university]? Or was it simple malice, in which case: congratulations on spending your Saturday booking new clients for me. It worked brilliantly and I now want to chop your nadgers off, feed them to you, and then pass you to Mr Larrington along with a fridge full of cornettos.
And as for your rank stupidity in deciding it would be a good idea to bring your girlfriend in with you to help you with your work. Have you heard of the concept of confidentiality? You now know I'm not trusting you with your own keys to the office again. Quite frankly, I wouldn't trust you with the keys to your own front door.
A pox upon you, you utter, fuckwitted, cockeyed, arsemonkey.