Chuck Bartovsky should make a movie in
our open-plan office, descending to redo
our kinky computer system, posing as
Wendelin Wiedeking with a wicked
grin, then swinging down on
the end of a rope
Driving off in a fast Porsche, I shall be
a CIA spy letting him into the building
wearing a red T-shirt with refresher
towels sticking out at the sides, an
eccentric character à la Agatha
Christie - how’s that
The beginning of a new series
with our pole-dancing hat
stands, toxic air-cons and
medieval-shield footrests
showcased to advantage
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