Scratching her head furiously, Mythmalos wanted to bash his head in. This damn boss of mine wants me to fucking sort all these documents within one day!? What fucking drug is he on!?
Just as he was about to light a cigarette to clear his mind, the door slammed open. "Boss, Lord Duncan wants to know the profit margins for this month, and he wants them now!"
A Sheeple carrying a large clipboard rammed in, nearly breaking the chairs in front. Ba'arba'ra, panting with lethargy, plonked down the reports she was carrying, and wiped off the sweat off her brows. Hmm, today it seems to be the scent of Moonglew today...
"...oss! BOSS, WAKE UP!"
Ba'arba'ra, face redder, yelled at Mythmalos to wake up from his stupor. "How long will it take you to finish your report? Cause from what I'm seeing, this pile of papers ain't gonna go down fast..."
Clearing his throat, Mythmalos picked up a pile of papers from the side. "I had them down just now, funnily enough. If he wasn't the damn son of the Queen..."
Ignoring the last murmurs of the forlorn man (she thought it was just simple ramblings), she huffed angrily, before telling him to get a move on. "You do know that any more delay on our end will have our payslips docked, right? I really, really, really want to buy the latest earrings that have been released. They look totally rad!"
Eyes dreamy, Ba'arba'ra's head floated up, dreaming of wearing and showing the latest Diamondium earrings by Steeling Jewellery. Seeing her like this made Mythmalos fall back into a stupor, unable to tear his eyes from her fluffy cheeks. I wish I could–
Creak...
"Boss, the carriage's here! Let's get a move on, chop-chop!"
Grabbing his hand, she pulled a very red Mythmalos into the carriage, unaware of the burgeoning feelings within the Elf...
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As they passed through the busy streets of Tülerpak (weird name, even by Elvish standards) they were met with the busy scurrying of Wulfin carrying tons of stone and bricks across the area, as they continuously built new buildings to house the newer Beastmen workers.
Mythmalos stared at the sky, where the Catnis jumped across rooftops, carrying letters and other parcels on their fanny packs, the rest working at the factory. Word is that Duncan and the rest of his merry crew are planning to use the clever Catnis as part fona new program, something they've kept secret from him even till now.
Cough, cough, cough...
Exhaling the dust from her lungs, Ba'arba'ra looked outside, where, around 30 km from the Jaffa factory, a large pit was being excavated. "I wonder what on Grandem are your bosses planning to build there. I mean, c'mon now, with the huge success of the 'Jaffa Cakes' they can make enough money to last several generations. But wasting them all in some ludicrous plan that involves digging a humongous hole, baulshit! Could you please put some sense into your boss...?"
Sitting for what he believed to be the umpteenth time, Mythmalos turned again to Ba'arba'ra. "Look, you know how Lord Duncan is: once he puts his kind towards something, it becomes almost impossible fornjim to steer away from it. Let's just hope and pray that he wakes up from whatever stupid idea he's working towards..."
Getting off the carriage, Mythmalos stretches his collar, before heading towards a large stone manor. Dodging a very panicked Sheeple, Mythmalos went towards a large door, knocking loudly.
"Lord Duncan, regarding the financial reports for this month..."