There's the office police officer -
The one who tells your boss that you were seen wearing inappropriate footwear and how terrible it is, when you were literally walking out of the door at the end of the day, having changed into the entirely appropriate footwear for walking home/navigating public transport in the rain. Or that your cardigan was 'unprofessional' when your desk is directly facing the automatic doors and you are freezing your fucking arse off all day whilst they sit in a fully heated, doubleglazed office with the heating up so high that they can indeed spend their entire day wearing a thin blouse, skirt and three inch high heels. The same person will make comments that you were 'late back from lunch', forgetting that a) you are usually in work 30 minutes early, b) have stayed late two nights in a row and c) that you didn't leave for lunch until 20 minutes ago because of work that was 'absolutely urgent and must be done before you take your break', so you weren't late back, you were early.
There's the office heart and soul -
She is kind to everybody - never, ever says no, will work hours of unpaid overtime to make people happy, never expects anything of anybody, which then means that other people assume you have a similar lack of boundaries and try to take the piss. She's also absolutely terrified of anybody being cross with her - the office police officer has probably entertained themselves by torturing her for years and she's become so institutionalised by it that she's paralysed by the idea of anybody Making a Decision, much less a (gasp) change. You feel like a terrible human being because she's so lovely, but seriously, when she panics because you've found it's quicker to use the automatic stapler on the printer, but the staples come out at an angle instead of straight and insists upon reprinting everything and sitting there until the caretaker kicks everybody offsite at 7pm stapling things by hand, you really want to shout at her NOBODY CARES ABOUT THE ANGLE OF THE STAPLES ELIZABETH.
The Sociopathic High Flier. Identifiable by their charming little laugh, the tilt of their head and the smile that cannot get above their nose. They will hurt you, they will gaslight everybody, everything you do for them is likely to be wrong, they will be the Only Person Capable of Doing Anything In This Place and whilst they'll sing your praises in front of you, they'll be rather fond of the behind closed doors threats or general criticism and backstabbing when you're not in the room. The usual explanation for making you redo hours of work in a slightly different shade of black or take all the promotional materials down and trim exactly 1mm off the edges of all of them before putting them straight back again is 'Oh, you know me and my OCD!'.
Or it's middle management. All so terrified of being held responsible for something that they will do anything to avoid actually Making a Final Decision. You get told to do one thing by one person, somebody else comes along and directly countermands it, then somebody else comes along and tells you to do the first thing, then when you say of course you will, #1 had told you to do that, but #2 said not to, so you aren't entirely sure, the fear in their eyes appears and they tell you to go in search of #1 to get it confirmed, just as #2 comes along and wants to know why you haven't done it and #4 comes along to ask why it's not been done in the way it's always been done - in the end, you leave them arguing amongst themselves and do it your way instead.