Greeting. Thanks for turning up on time.
Greeting. Self-deprecating quip.
Acknowledgement. Let's go upstairs.
It looks better than it does online.
Say hello to the current tenant who is only moving out because his wife would prefer it if they both lived in the same house, and now that the conservatives have fortified the economy, he and she can both find work in the same town again.
Carefully-pitched chuckling intended to create the impression that I know all about economies and wives and their just-between-us-three-young-but-mature-men-here outrageous demands.
And when would you prefer to move in?
Slightly after as soon as possible.
And is your monthly income guaranteed indefinitely?
No. But I've at least been getting demonstrably more sensible since my mind collapsed.
Alright. Will you be able to give us all your money quite soon?
Absolutely.
And then a bit more, later?
I can promise to, and then we can see.
And can we legally compel someone else to owe us what you should be paying if, for example, you were to take a sudden and powerful fancy to the purchasing of elaborate liquids?
I'll ask.
And there's no washing machine.
Cleanliness is falsity anyway.
And if any bats move in you can't move them out.
I'm already my employer's Regional Diversity and Tolerance Ambassador.
Was there much bloodshed in that competition?
Not til I turned up.
And how's your citizenship?
Piqued.
And when you last checked yourself for defects, what did you find?
Only the usual.
