That meant if, over in the spirits zone, someone said to Brayden that they also needed a bottle of moscato, Brayden was supposed to get onto Travis over the headset and Travis would run it over. But Colin had this idea to divvy the Barn up into zones. If people came into the Booze Barn and couldn’t be stuffed to wait the extra five minutes it took to get something from the back dock, then fuck ‘em. The headsets were Colin’s latest and greatest idea and, like all his others, they were doomed to failure. Travis snickered, and switched his Bluetooth headset off so he didn’t have to listen to Colin giving Brayden a bollocking. “I’ll put you on register, Brayden!” Colin threatened. “We need better call signs anyway, Trav.” “Sorry, Colin,” Brayden echoed, still staticky. “Brayden! Travis! Knock it off! Those aren’t for playing around with! They’re to improve our customer service delivery!” “Nooooooo!”Īnother voice cut in suddenly. I’m coming back around to give you some cover fire.” “Red leader! Red leader!” A blast of static.
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