(JERICHO)
I'm in Miles' study, seated on his desk, my feet on top of the table with an unlit cigar in my mouth. I'm doing my best to play the tough mafia boss, but the truth is that I have a headache that wants to split my head in half. I just want to go take a shower and maybe get a manicure later. Instead, here I am stuck on the phone, trying to get one of the guys to do his job.
"Tito, I'm telling you for the umpteenth time, the crane operator put the container where it's going to be inspected next weekend. That was the best that he could do." I shout. "What that means is that you should get the cars out of that container before tomorrow. How many times do you want me to tell you?"
"Sir," Tito's voice whines nervously over the line. "I've been working the entire week and zi promised my lady that I would take her dancing on Friday. Can't we push the unloading to next week?"