Nov. 4th, 2004
The Worn, Fraying End of the Rope....
Nov. 4th, 2004 03:56 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
It's evening, and Hugh is gone. Michael, who hasn't eaten in nine hours, is sitting behind his desk running his eyes over tables of figures, although comprehension has been somewhat lacking for at least the last hour. Michael, who hasn't gotten laid in thirty-six days, is ready pitch his com through the window, then his chair, then his desk.
Guy waltzes through Hugh's empty office, and knocks on the open door, peering in at Michael. "Hey there, mate! Just thought I'd let you know that Scarlett and I called a truce. You look like shit! Whyncha go get laid or summat?"
Read more....
Guy waltzes through Hugh's empty office, and knocks on the open door, peering in at Michael. "Hey there, mate! Just thought I'd let you know that Scarlett and I called a truce. You look like shit! Whyncha go get laid or summat?"
Read more....
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
(back story for Mum - she's looking for a way to start a business after her service debt ends and a friendly Retriever comes to her rescue)
Juliet could hardly see, she was that mad at the officious little toad that called himself the Assistant Manager at the Balize Home and Savings. She was equally mad at herself for not being more prepared. Trying to shake the gloom that fell over her, she paused for a moment, thinking she needed to sit down somewhere and just think for a bit.
Juliet could hardly see, she was that mad at the officious little toad that called himself the Assistant Manager at the Balize Home and Savings. She was equally mad at herself for not being more prepared. Trying to shake the gloom that fell over her, she paused for a moment, thinking she needed to sit down somewhere and just think for a bit.