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“Deccie,” said Dandridge from his position pinned to the floor. “You look great. Have you been working out?” Brigit looked around, incredulous. “It’s like he’s got some sort of smarm Tourette’s.”
“She said she will be the only woman there. I think she broke the glass ceiling in the abattoir killing business. To be fair, they probably don’t have a glass ceiling – because of all the blood and that.”
Tricia shrugged. “People are always making crap up. The rule I live by is you can believe half of what you see and none of what you read. I think that’s from a song or something.”
“Because it’s taken me a long time to get where I am in my life, and one of the first steps was to figure out that if you want to get happy, start caring a hell of a lot less about what other people think.
He checked his pulse. He didn’t know how to do it properly, but judged it by how fast it was in relation to the tempo of the film score to National Treasure, starring Nicolas Cage. At the bottom of the stairs it had been ‘Nic Cage looks up some stuff in books in the library’; after three flights of stairs it was now ‘car chase number two’. That wasn’t good.
gaggle of people in gorilla suits
Spoiler: Flash mob flashback from "McGarry Stateside" series?!
Brigid
Brigid?
Your problem is, you’ve got no appreciation of the fundamentals of the game. Deccie out!”
Among all the cringeworthy moments, which were plentiful, the worst was the point when it had become blindingly obvious that Deccie didn’t know who the Dalai Lama was, and somehow believed him to be an actual llama.
