"Bro, you can't just waltz into the boss's office at the drop of a hat like the others!"
When the midday sun beat down through the gaps on the moss-covered glass roof, we stepped onto the last rung of the stairs leading to the top floor.
"Look, I'll take offense; you've been wandering around with your big bro for hours, have I done you any wrong?"
Sukrucuk took the words right out of my mouth; actually, it was something only I should have said, but whatever, I can't dwell on it at this crucial point. The same trick worked in every record shop, but just as the raw meatball seller said, the boss was going to be different.
Even if our tank runs the show, planning is my job, and I have a beautiful scenario in mind. Throwing my arm around the shoulder of the raw meatball seller, who is looking at me with an empty tray in his hand, and taking him under my wing, I start feeding him the poison.
