The tension in the room was palpable, made worse by the shirty air conditioner that seemed capable only of moving the warm, malodorous air around. Sweat dripped from my forehead, stinging my eyes. I was uncomfortable, so I knew that prissy, clean-shirted Jesus Reyes would be hating every minute of this. Maria Gonzales, our boss, was livid with anger. She had given us an assignment, and Reyes - dressed as a priest, I might add - - had fucked things up royally. She was going to tear him an new asshole. She knew it, I knew it, and Reyes knew it.

Which made his outburst all the more surprising. He stood up, ripped the dog collar from his supplice and hurled it to the ground. What followed was fifteen minutes of bitter histrionics in which Maria's sexuality was the main bone of contention. He ranted and raved, gnashing his teeth and spraying spit and sweat around the office.

Once he'd finished - winding down like a clockwork toy - he stood with his arms limply hanging by his sides, and his breath being drawn in ragged gasps. His anger dissipated, he picked up his dog collar, spat an oath at me, and walked from the room, slamming the door behind him. Maria and I sat silent for a moment, astonished by what we'd witnessed, and convinced that we'd been party to the beginning of the end of his long and infamous career within the Service.
(SalariosDecentes was under the radar on, Mon 23 Jul 2012, 20:52, 1 reply)

Yeah. I remember that film.

( Pope Shax XIII uses Visio for picture editing, does it show?, Tue 24 Jul 2012, 10:19, closed)