Template:Opco business day convention scene: Difference between revisions

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The vodka luge hits peak. Daycount chit-chat hits peak. The accordion swing-jive hits peak: ''breakneck'' BPM.  
The vodka luge hits peak. Daycount chit-chat hits peak. The accordion swing-jive hits peak: ''breakneck'' BPM.  


The [[Negotiator]] cuts a swathe through the hullaballoo.  
The [[Negotiator]] makes a track through the hullaballoo.  


Then he sees her. Hullaba-hell''o''.
Then he sees her. Hullaba-hell''oooo''.


''That’s — the girl from the agency''.  
''That’s — the girl from the [[Process agent|agency]]''.  


The bar scene is chaos. His bar presence is zilch. He catches her eye. There’s a flicker and its gone. She looks down. She flushes red. She she steals another look through through that tumbling fringe: devastatingly demure. He’s drunk on his own success He rams a [[Cayman Island rum cake|Tortuga chaser]]. That bad boy gives him wings. He sidles up.
The bar scene is chaos. His bar presence is zilch. He catches her eye. There’s a flicker and its gone. She looks down. She flushes red. She she steals another look through through that tumbling fringe: devastatingly demure. He’s drunk on his own success He rams a [[Cayman Island rum cake|Tortuga chaser]]. That bad boy gives him wings. He sidles up.
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He spits his drink. They get close. The party gets loud.
He spits his drink. They get close. The party gets loud.
She says, “my boat’s tied up outside.” ''This'' he does not expect.

Revision as of 09:58, 20 January 2023

The final panel Q&A wraps up: five hundred delegates hit the bar hard: Actual/actual chit-chat is thirsty work.

Waiters boogie-woogie through the crowd. They flog cold beers and live crabs on overhead trays. Nippers gnash. Punters chugg Satoshi Extra-Dry.

The vodka luge hits peak. Daycount chit-chat hits peak. The accordion swing-jive hits peak: breakneck BPM.

The Negotiator makes a track through the hullaballoo.

Then he sees her. Hullaba-helloooo.

That’s — the girl from the agency.

The bar scene is chaos. His bar presence is zilch. He catches her eye. There’s a flicker and its gone. She looks down. She flushes red. She she steals another look through through that tumbling fringe: devastatingly demure. He’s drunk on his own success He rams a Tortuga chaser. That bad boy gives him wings. He sidles up.

She blows her fringe and contrives boredom. “You following me, pal?”

He cracks out *innocent face*. “Look, lady: I was here first.”

She looks him up and down. “Is that a fact.” she says it like a fact, not a question.

“Yeah.”

She scoffs, but vibes playful. She runs a finger round the rim of his glass. Their eyes lock again. “Oh, soldier, so you were preceding?”

He shrugs. “I guess I figured you would wind up here eventually, so I just made sure I got here first. I guess I was, ahhh — modified following you.”

He spits his drink. They get close. The party gets loud.

She says, “my boat’s tied up outside.” This he does not expect.