week 2 Running Errands

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week 2 Running Errands

Post by Risky Biznu on Sat Sep 01, 2018 2:41 am

The camera opens on Risky Biznu sitting quietly at his desk.

(Risky Biznu Card)

A quick rapping of the knuckles on the door catches his attention, his eyes rising to see the intrusion.

???: Knock knock.

Risky Biznu: Come in.

The door opens, and Ty GunningZ walks into the room, holding something behind his back.

(Ty GunningZ Card)

Ty GunningZ: Hey there, Bossman. I got what you asked for.

Risky Biznu: Ah, yes. I had almost forgotten, you had been gone for so long.

Ty walks up to the only desk in the room, bring the objects from behind his back and setting them upon said desk.

Risky Biznu’s eyebrow twitches.

Risky Biznu: Mr. GunningZ.

Ty GunningZ: Yeah?

Risky Biznu: What is this?

Ty GunningZ: Whaddya mean, Boss? This is what you asked for. Something dry.

He gestures to the carton of chicken wings on the desk.

Ty GunningZ: Something for cleaning.

Once more he gestures to the desk, this time pointing at a gallon of storebrand bleach.

Ty GunningZ: And something to cut things.

He gestures to the objects lying upon the desk for a third time, a wrapped katana drawing the eye.

Risky Biznu: Ty? Are you an idiot?

Ty GunningZ: Uh, no?

Risky Biznu: Then please explain how when I asked you to ‘go pick up my dry cleaning before I cut you,’ you somehow heard, ‘get me some bleach, a sword, and a bucket of peasant food’?

Ty GunningZ: Hey, a man's gotta eat.

Risky Biznu: Shut up, Ty. I swear. This is the second time this week you’ve screwed up even the most basic of tasks. I’ve about had enough. You get one more chance. What is it they say in that game commoners play? Three strikes and you’re out?

Ty GunningZ: Baseball, yeah.

Risky Biznu: Consider this strike two, Mr. GunningZ. I’d recommend you avoid getting a third. Now leave. Go bother someone else.

Ty GunningZ turns away and walks out of the room, grumbling the whole way.

Risky Biznu rests his arm on his desk and collapses onto it while letting out a prolonged sigh, his head resting snugly on his hand.

He lifts his head and inspects the wrapped katana, lifting it to his eye.

Risky Biznu: Huh. Not bad.

The camera fades to black.
Risky Biznu
Risky Biznu
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