#dynsie

He strides over to her, dropping his bag behind the counter and leaning over to rest his chin on her head, his chest against the back of her chair. A stray strand of hair drafts across his nose, and he snorts it away, then contemplates making a moustache for himself. Nah. That would require lifting his hands, and they're still aching from being sat on for an entire meeting. "I didn't kill John," he says, trying to inject some cheeriness into his voice. ( It should be a joke, but he's already killed one head of the company. Two, if you count the rabbit! But she won't judge him. She knows why. ) "I once again shot down the... the Faztastic Fizzcruiser."

the world has surpassed the need for williams. purple is last decade's colour. we have to put him in a wood chipper we have to i'm not asking.