"What's up with you, Bolly?"
Gene leaned back in the chair, boots casually hoiked up on the corner of his desk. Alex looked at him, one hand on her hip, one brandishing a biro, which she thrust towards him.
"You really haven't got the slightest clue, have you, you ignorant pig?" She spat.
"Apparently not, you haughty tart, or I wouldn't have asked.
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