Lambert was incandescent with rage. Why was he surrounded by cretins?

“ Yes now, bringut...fuggenbringut now. Twenty minutes” Lambert caught sight of his flagging erection amongst the bubbles “Make it ten minutes”. Paul took aim and launched the mobile onto the last remaining towel. Perfect shot. The phone dropped squarely into the middle of the folds. The rest of the towels were propping up the laptop at the optimum angle for one of Lamberts patented lie down bath w**ks.
“Ok google, cam girls”. He spoke with the clarity of a 1950s BBC broadcaster. His usual accent and voice activated technologies were not happy bedfellows.
He settled back under the hot water, a moment of bliss amongst the cavalcade of bulls**t that his life had become.
A girl appeared onscreen, topless, blue knickers. She was blonde and pretty and clearly American.
“Hey babe” she chuckled. He checked the little window to the side, the view of him in the bath from his webcam. He didn’t look like Tony Montana in his big bubble bath. He looked like a balding middle aged wreck in a travel tavern bath. His confidence and bravado vanished. This was going to be a difficult one.
“ Helloo, hi, how goes it, aye”
Just then the bathroom door opened and Chambers stood there, in full training gear and with a carrier bag in hand.
“Boss...I err...got your bits boss”
“GET OOT YER FUCKEN BULB”
“Shall I leave the bag on..”
“OOT OOT OOT OOT FYOCKEN OOOT” hissed lambert
The cam girl was openly laughing as the farcical scene.
Paul looked down. His once proud u boat had sunk beneath the bubbles. There would be no revival. The lad needed more than a hand.

Posted By: MIKEWALKER on February 10th 2019 at 09:27:03

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