Sam gazed at the office with a mixture of dismay and disgust, visions of his old workspace and computer growing ever more clean and shiny in comparison to the literal and metaphorical filth.
Chris’ desk was a veritable museum of used food wrappers, while Ray had a few of his mates around examining some hard-core centerfold as though it were the Dead Sea scrolls.
“This general nincompoopery must stop immediately,” he announced, only to feel an ominous tap on his shoulder telling him it was time for a session in Gene’s office.
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Chris’ desk was a veritable museum of used food wrappers, while Ray had a few of his mates around examining some hard-core centerfold as though it were the Dead Sea scrolls.
“This general nincompoopery must stop immediately,” he announced, only to feel an ominous tap on his shoulder telling him it was time for a session in Gene’s office.
“Only one General here, mate. And it’s me.”
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