Control freaks come in several different subspecies. I have had the dubious pleasure of having four of these subspecies competing for space within my own work environment. They seldom herd together, although they may occasionally combine forces when hunting smaller prey. They will just as happily hunt each other as they will hunt non-controlus species though.
I used to have a Freakus controlus micro-manageus in my place, although his branch of the corporate tree was recently pruned off. Micro-managers are perhaps one of the most aggravating of the varieties because they are constantly in your face and telling you the best way to handle things that they themselves have never dealt with before in their lives. There is usually at least one Freakus controlus micro-manageus in any corporate setting. If one should migrate to another environment, its absence usually leaves a vacuum that attracts another micro-manageus. Observers at this outpost have been waiting for a new micro-manageus for well over a month now. The dynamics of the interaction of all corporate species are profoundly impacted by the arrival of a new micro-manager, and the resulting behaviors can be fun to watch, assuming that the observer himself does not become drawn into the action.
Freakus controlus magmus also reside in our building. This subspecies can also be a real pain in the neck. These heavy-hitters of the Freakus controlus species tend to control from great heights. Also named the Grand Pubah, they are seldom seen, though their droppings litter the forest floor in-bins below them. Close examination of these droppings tends to reveal some strange inconsistencies in the Grand Pubah's diet habits. For example, they never seem to want the same thing twice. When confronted on this issue, they never seem to remember anything other than their last meal, and will often completely deny eating anything found from any prior droppings.
The most frightening of the species is Freakus controlus bizarrus. Fortunately few in number, these are the true Mad Hatters of the Freakus genus. Chameleon-like in their ability to blend, they seem perfectly adapted to their environment most of the time. At odd intervals however, and with no prior warning, the Freakus controlus bizarrus will suddenly drop their camouflage and come crashing down upon you, as the Tyrannosaurus rex must once have done to poor baby Stegosauruses. When bizarrus does break camouflage, it is almost invariably near the end of a long, tedious project, resulting in changes that require hours of work to be completely trashed and/or reworked. Folklore has it that the bizarrus subspecies is female only, and that their weird mood swings are hormonally driven. Research has revealed that there are indeed male members of this group, however, casting doubts on the parthenogenesis theory of reproduction that has been often ascribed to bizarrus.
Most of my dealings in my native environment have been with Freakus controlus territorialis. There has recently been some debate if this species has been correctly categorized, with some experts observing that due to their behavior patterns they would be more appropriately grouped with the species of Petty thieves (Crookus vulgarus). My own feeling is that, while these creatures do habitually steal from others, their pattern of theft is more inspired by the need to dominate than it is by the need to possess. Since the need to dominate is at the very heart of the definition of Freakus controlus, I feel that for the time-being the subspecies territorialis is best left in its current classification. Freakus controlus territorialis is unique in that it seeks to control a territory by owning it, rather than by bossing around the other species. It tends to share its territory poorly, preferring to control by possession rather than by command. The territorialis is the pack rat of the Industrial Kingdom, stealing from the other species desks and hording the rewards of such theft in their own desk. Sometimes the territorialis will replace a stolen project with one of lesser value, but more often the project is taken with no recompense whatsoever.
Some days I feel I really should have gone into the behavioral sciences instead of veterinary science.