"Do you think there's anything in it?"
"Boss, I can tell you there's a LOT in it, but don't ask me what specifically."
"I meant prospects, Fields." The Roegadyn sighs, swiveling his chair slightly--head tilted and ear scrunched against his shoulder as he tries to keep the linkpearl from falling out. Must not have set it right. Banquo squints at the saucy image through gold-tinged glasses, trying in vain to appraise the financial value of Miqo'te abdominals. "Do you think it's worth investing in, is what I mean."
"I wouldn't know, boss, wouldn't know myself. All I'm sayin' is that I'm seein' more of the flyers than I am the bottles. Here at the Crossing, leastways."
He takes a long gulp of Vitality, still keeping a suspicious eye on the advertisement. "...Drumming up any sales?"
"Not sure, boss." There's a crackle on the other end of the line. Banquo winced at Fields' distant barking. "Hey... Hey, Gunt! Gunt! GUNTRAM! WOULD YOU DRINK SOMETHIN' CALLED 'BRON-CO GREASE'?" A long pause. Banquo drains the last of the Vitality potion. "Hah! Twelve, alright, I didn't need the fickin' visual aid..." Banquo can hear the Miqo'te grinning as he returns to the call. "Lemme ask you this, boss. Would YOU drink it?"
He carefully folds the flyer, slipping it delicately into a folder. "I think I'll stick to homebrewed."
"Boss, I can tell you there's a LOT in it, but don't ask me what specifically."
"I meant prospects, Fields." The Roegadyn sighs, swiveling his chair slightly--head tilted and ear scrunched against his shoulder as he tries to keep the linkpearl from falling out. Must not have set it right. Banquo squints at the saucy image through gold-tinged glasses, trying in vain to appraise the financial value of Miqo'te abdominals. "Do you think it's worth investing in, is what I mean."
"I wouldn't know, boss, wouldn't know myself. All I'm sayin' is that I'm seein' more of the flyers than I am the bottles. Here at the Crossing, leastways."
He takes a long gulp of Vitality, still keeping a suspicious eye on the advertisement. "...Drumming up any sales?"
"Not sure, boss." There's a crackle on the other end of the line. Banquo winced at Fields' distant barking. "Hey... Hey, Gunt! Gunt! GUNTRAM! WOULD YOU DRINK SOMETHIN' CALLED 'BRON-CO GREASE'?" A long pause. Banquo drains the last of the Vitality potion. "Hah! Twelve, alright, I didn't need the fickin' visual aid..." Banquo can hear the Miqo'te grinning as he returns to the call. "Lemme ask you this, boss. Would YOU drink it?"
He carefully folds the flyer, slipping it delicately into a folder. "I think I'll stick to homebrewed."
[sub]
Skype: wordsmithrefl[/sub]
Skype: wordsmithrefl[/sub]
