alis, Safe to say, by the time I’m chased out of Þrúðr’s chambers, I’m not the happiest fucking camper in the mountain.
Fucking æsir. Fucking holier-than-thou, hypocritical sacks of—
Was Þrúðr right? About Nic? Because, fuck. Nic. Nic is great. She is LB, literally, but Travis is the face of the company and . . . and maybe it shouldn’t be like that? I mean, this is the twenty-first fuckin’ century right? Nic can do the bread and circuses stuff just as well as I can. She deserves to do it and—
And, fuck. This really isn’t the time to be thinking about succession plans. Not those ones, anyway.
Add comment