Edwards turns to face his window. He's getting agitated. You can always tell because his ring finger will twitch vividly whenever someone dares to cross him.
He then looks at Slot. Sweat dripping down his big bald skull. He's drinking his tea like it's water. This doesn't sit right with Edwards. Tea should be enjoyed like a fine big breasted lady.
Arne, he says with a stern bassy voice. I've told you ten times already. We aint buying f***ing Bobo or Balde.
Arne, still high on life from landing the biggest job in his life looks up with intent. He senses the tension. He's been here before. 10 years ago he took too much Molly at a Tiesto remix party and had to play 90 minutes knowing a drug test would be happening afterwards.
He recognized the stirring unrest in his big bald belly and immediately knew he had to let the dream go. There would be no Bobo or Balde. There would be no bongs in the manager's office. No pancakes or stuffed cheese balls.
There would only be Ibou. Ibou now and Ibou forever.
Alas, we rejoice. On to the next one.