Dusty Office Stuff

"It's your dad's crew and one day it'll be yours.  You won't find another."

"What are you doing?'

"Trying to analyze last year's requests to see where we went wrong."

"Hold on.  We didn't go wrong.  Dad went wrong." 

Twist rubbed his nose again.

"The guys think it's my fault."  Twist looked up.  His eyes were red.  "Your dad thinks so too."

"He never said that."  Twist put a letter under the shoe pile by his chair.  "Hey, is that my shoe?  And my bowl?  Wait!  That's my picture of mom!"

"You weren't here last year when the shit hit the fan.  The old man is blaming me for that and I'm going to be the first sucker in company history to get fired."  He looked over at the frame.  "It's a nice picture of your mother."

"Did you just go help yourself to my stuff?"

Jimmy kept walking and opened the door to his office.  The desk was gone and replaced with hip-deep mounds of letters in various piles.  His other shoe was beside one pile.  His coat rack, laid sideways, held down a particularly wide mass of paper.  "What the fuck?"

"I needed the room and you weren't here.  Frankly, I'm surprised you're here after being gone so long."