"I wish that fat-ass Kevin was smart enough to find the file without my help."
Naryanne smiled. A small wish, but a pleasent start.
For the umpteenth time Tom's car lurched forward into the two feet of space that had just opened up in front of him as the line of vehicles mad etheir slow progress along the highway. His cellphone began to ring. He took it out of his pocket and looked at the name of the caller:
PIGFUCKERS
Tom remembered typing that in when he added the number of his office to his phone's directory. It must be Kevin again. He let it ring a few more times.
"Godammit. What is it now, gone to the bog and need someone to tell you how to work your flies?"
Then he raised the phone to his ear and pressed the OK button.
Immediately, Kevin spoke up, "Tom, is that you?"
"Yeah, it's me Kev," Tom replied, noticing Kevin sounded out of breath. "What's up now?"
"We found the account, buddy. We don't need you today anymore."
"Well great," Tom tried to sound pleased. "Say, Kev, are you okay? You sound a bit rough."
"I'm fit as I ever was, Tom," he replied, "Though that ain't saying much, heh."
"Yeah, okay. See you Monday then."
"Bye."
-BEEP-
"The bastard finally got a brain," Tom breathed a sigh of relief. "Now I'm not too far behind schedule. I'll just take the next exit I come to and find a quicker way to the mall."
