Quoted By:
Choking down your food, you sputter out the first answer your systems can put together: you wanna be in <span class="mu-i">their</span> seat!
“Oh?” Muses your boss with interest!
Well, <span class="mu-i">sorta</span>, you backpedal! You wouldn’t mind being <span class="mu-b">THE BOSS,</span> but you don’t really wanna go to meetings or do any <span class="mu-i">work</span>, you know?
“Believe me, Stan–I’ve been <span class="mu-i">very</span> busy lately… but I think I know what you’re getting at.”
Fidgeting under Sonny’s bemused gaze, your mind goes into freefall as you continue adding pieces: but you don’t wanna be a <span class="mu-i">JANITOR–</span> unless you’re, like, a <span class="mu-b">MASTER JANITOR!</span> But without all the responsibilities of <span class="mu-i">being</span> a <span class="mu-b">MASTER JANITOR,</span> get me? Maybe you could get a new suit or something. Or an assistant! So-
“<span class="mu-b">MANAGEMENT.</span> Got it.” Sonny interrupts with a snap of their fingers. “Can’t promise <span class="mu-i">MY</span> chair, of course, but play your cards right and-” A sly grin forms behind your boss’ mask. “... but I’m getting ahead of myself. You’ve certainly got the gist of things, Stan…” they continue, turning to roll back towards their side of the table. “Do your job right and the world, and all that entails, will be <span class="mu-i">yours</span>...”
The wheelchair’s parts skid to a halt as your employer looks back at you with a paralyzing stare.
“As long as you’re <span class="mu-i">trustworthy</span>, that is…”
Nearly spitting up your brussel sprouts, you chew your food a few times before replying with a confused ‘<span class="mu-i">huh?</span>’
“Trust is a… funny thing, isn’t it? Goes against everything I believe in, really.” Pacing around the yard as best they can in a wheelchair, Sonny lets out a weary, drawn-out breath.
“It can take ages to build… and seconds to break. You can devote your entire existence trying to gain someone’s trust only to see someone else receive it for <span class="mu-i">nothing</span>...”
Tentatively returning to your meal, you try to avoid your boss’ increasingly-sullen expression as you finally take a bite from the lobster. Holy <span class="mu-s">SHIT!</span>
“Good, I take it?” Sonny asks, cloudy demeanor lifting almost instantaneously! “Like I said, Stanley–I know talent when I see it! She’s not much of a conversationalist, that Christy, but she knows how to prepare a damn good meal!”
Tearing into the butter-coated shellfish, you express your approval with a satisfied ‘<span class="mu-i">mmMMM!</span>’ This tastes <span class="mu-s">AMAZING!</span>
“I’ll bet it does…” Sonny remarks, watching you with interest. “You know, Stan, all this lobster reminds me of a story!”
Great, you mutter between chews, can it wait?
“I guarantee you’ll find it <span class="mu-i">interesting</span>...”
Rolling your eyes, you motion with your fork to continue. You can’t have <span class="mu-i">ANYTHING</span> nice, can you?
>CONTD.
