Did a writing exercise for one of my classes (short page where most if not all of it is dialogue) with office-job human Aziracrow so I figured I would share since I’ve been busy 😞 I miss them a lot
Azira wasn’t the most talkative assistant alive, but it was difficult to reply to such a childish thing without accusing his senior, Crowley, for being childish. Someone– he was trying to listen; couldn’t– was saying something about performance charts on the projector screen.
“You’ve scheduled this meeting. You said you would be ‘a nice team player’ today,” said Azira.
“Bee from accounting called in sick for a clogged nasal when they had asked me to come,” said Mr. Crowley, “and I had that corner all to myself for three days.”
“There’s nothing wrong with Bee, sir. I like Bee.”
“Yeah, sure, you can say that– but then they just… giggle. Out of the blue. I think that they may be calling someone during office hours, but you can’t just go peeking over a person’s cubicle, you know?”
“So what? You’ve gone and accepted a meeting invite because you were cheerful about the peace and quiet that came from your coworker’s misfortunes?”
“It’s not really about the misfortunes. Sometimes, I like being giggle-free, especially when you’re trying to do calculations for some sort of… eugh, you know– when you’re counting and you lose your place.”
A hostile clink of a coffee cup made them jolt to the right. Michael from management smiled.
“I hope you boys are paying attention. I hear that the division with the best attendance is receiving a pizza party at the end of the season.”
They nodded their head, as if to drive their point across, and turned back to the presenter.
“…‘I hope you boys are paying attention’.”
“What? They made the blasted thing up. They’re management. And they’re not hearing anything. They especially heard nothing when I didn’t get anything back from that suggestion I left in the suggestion box.”
“I wasn’t aware we had a suggestion box, sir.”
“We didn’t until I suggested it.”
“Ah. Well… ahem, have you been taking notes?”
He saw the back of Mr. Crowley’s head tilt to the side.
“Um… that’s why you’re here, innit?”
“No, sir. I carry the belongings, I make the coffee, I hold open the doors. I don’t take notes… sorry.”
“Eugh… don’t worry about it, Angel. The problem is that I haven’t processed a word of what’s coming out of their mouths since I walked in.”
baratheonpilled
gummygunk
