No dice.
Bob walks up and greets you with a slap on the back that threatens to shake your fillings loose.
"Hey there, pal," he begins, in the falsely enthusiastic tone of his that would irritate a saint to madness, "I have to go out to an early lunch. Seems the old ex-wife managed to track me down again, and I have to go meet with her lawyer. Say, I need to look poor. You don't mind if I borrow your jacket, do you? "
You cringe.
"Ahhh, just kidding, huh? Your car, now that might help give the impression I need!" He laughs wildly at his own joke, while giving you a playful punch in the shoulder certain to leave a bruise. "No, seriously," he says conspiratorially, "I really do need to go. You don't mind taking care of some things for me while I'm gone, do you? All you need to do is make a dozen copies of these papers, and leave a copy in front of each chair in the boardroom. OK? Hey thanks, you're the best."
Bob dashes off, leaving behind a stack of paperwork, a keyring, and the sense of sudden peace and quiet that always comes immediately after he leaves the room.
>take paperwork and keyring
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