Now that the quiet talks, everything else shuts the **** up. He lines them up against the wall, from the short to the tall, and to each barks a question, “ Right! unless you want cut up like the ******* tension, you better listen here. I don’t mind letting you’s make your noise, as long as you do it with care. It needs to mean something. If you’s clutter this beautiful place with incessant moaning and ******* techno 24/7, then I’m going be sticking the ******* boot in some *****”. Heads stay bowed in the line. No words. No Spines. And the quiet starts gutting himself laughing.
Now that the quiet laughs, the room’s confusion grows; smiles appear on some faces, nervously trying to gage the situation. The shortest man stands as tall as he can, clears his throat and politely asks “ Are you *******, or were we actually annoying you with our noise?”. “ Did I say you could say you could open that ******* pathetic we gob”, he barks back, and then begins gutting himself once again. “ Ahaha, naw mate, don’t worry yersel’, I’m only winding ye’s up”. Then he walks out the room, promising he’ll be back in a bit, with a chuckle.