"You're...." You hesitate a moment to think of something imaginative and tell John, "In a fake mustache factory. Yes, you work there! You're the supervisor, actually."
John looks back at you from the fake mustache factory with a cocked eyebrow. "I should have an office then. With a nice, comfortable chair." John tells you.
"But of course," You tell John, and he leans back in his cushy office chair tapping his clipboard thoughtfully with a number 2 pencil.
"And I refuse to wear a fake mustache," John tells you stubbornly.
"I wouldn't demand too many things if I were you, John. After all, I'm the writer here." You warn John, but you add, "Of course you won't wear a fake mustache, that would be preposterous. You have a real mustache, a thick one that just covers up your upper-lip. Maybe you have a cleft lip, but who can tell?"
John regards you warily. |