I looked up, perhaps Peefy had hidden his humour in the ceiling. It was a white-ish beige, cracked paint causing patterns going from each corner. Surely the damage was caused by the putrid smell that hung around in this room.

"Peefy Danger", that's a rather deceiving name tag he's wearing, I wonder if he tells people it's pronounced "Dang Her".

Future: Fancy place you've got here Dang-her, styled it yourself?
Peefy: My boss did, never knew secretaries got offices in the first place.
Future: Compliments on the coffee-splatter wallpaper print.
Peefy: If only..
Future: Look, small talk aside, I have news about your sister.
Peefy: Oh boy, spit it out.

Not entirely sure why, but I spat on Peefy's desk. Skillfully dodging his water cup.

Future: I'vTaKeN 'Er 'Ostage
Peefy: Why the accent?
Future: Precaution.

Faster than three horses I threw an envelope on the desk in front of him, straight into the water cup.