Tony scratched his neck, his high visibility vest making him itchy again. He took off his bright yellow hardhat, and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
Now cradling his hardhat under one arm, and a clipboard in his hand, he sidled over to the rich prick. “Look, Enrique, I really need you to sign the…” He paused for a rattling rumble, as a dump truck disgorged another load of printer cartridges onto the front lawn. “…pink copy of the bill of lading. It confirms the delivery was made, and my drivers can get paid.”
Enrique sputtered, fuming. “What the hell am I supposed to do with this?“ He said, gesturing at the small hill nearly obscuring his mansion.
“Well…” Tony grunted. “ You better hope that some of these loads have magenta, otherwise these piles of cyan and yellow are totally useless.“
What the fuck even is this timeline?
This one is really dependent upon whose wedding it is. I know a couple people that would love this.
It looks like you think they’re disagreeing with your point, but they are jokingly disagreeing with your scope.
You were like “i think it’s bad and bad and people in charge don’t care that it’s bad”. They were like “i think it’s horrible because the people in charge just want to make it worse.”
Anyone send this to Brandon Herrera yet?
It’s actually pretty good feedback, I’ll do something like that next time.