Hey, do you think she will actually look like Wilma from the Flintstones?
My brother made a chuffling noise of self-satisfaction.
Lol.
I replied drily.
We were in our Lawyers office sorting out some shitey will stuff. We had been directed at a meeting room by a nice old lady who told us that Wilma would see us presently.
Hopefully she hurries the fuck up and we can get out of here. I've got things to do.
I muttered grumpily.
You think she will be good looking?
My brother made a strange appreciative growling noise like a Labrador gnawing at some fatty bacon.
Don't get your hopes up. She is a Lawyer, this is Scotland, not New York. She will probably look like a wrinkled old piece of leather with hair at one end.
I sighed.
It was then we heard it. A high pitched click-clacking sound. It sounded most definitely like a lady approaching wearing high heels. This must be Wilma.
Remember, if she offers us coffee or any of that shit, just say no. That way we can escape quicker.
I hissed at my brother.
He nodded in acknowledgement.
I mean it. They always try to get you to stay so they can hit you with the hard sell. Accept. Nothing.
I jabbed him in the ribs.
Aye, alright, alright. Say no to coffee.
He grunted.
Not just coffee. Say no to everything. Let me do the talking. You, say nothing. Except no. You can say no to stuff. Got it?
I gabbled quickly as the heel clacking stopped outside the meeting room door and the door-handle began to turn.
The door slowly opened. I looked away and yawned before making a face as if I was trying to dig some food out of my back molars to visibly show my disdain for all things Lawyery.
Hello gentlemen. My name is Wilma.
Wilma walked in on legs that would have made a gazelle weep with shame. She had long blonde hair which trailed down her back in loose curls. My mind tried to distinguish any other features but was blinded by the glowing halo of her beauty.
I made a strained squeaking like an over-talced and sinewy vagina.
She shook our hands.
I looked to the left and saw my brother rapidly changing colours like an Octopus in a washing machine.
He looked as if he was about to speak and then thought better of it. Wilma sat down next to him and folded her legs like a sexy velociraptor and clasped her hands on her knees.
Now, Gentlemen. Before we begin. Can I get either of you a coffee?
Wilma asked softly.
I felt a horrifying pressure build up in my upper chest. I tried to keep my mouth closed but it was like I was doing a massive shit in reverse and my jaw began to stretch open.
Um, yes. That would be lovely, thanks.
I blurted in a high pitched voice.
Wilma took note of how we liked our coffees and popped out to bring them.
My brother looked disparagingly at me.
You're a dick.
He muttered under his breath.
I held my hands up and shook my head.
Aye, I totally am.