Otherpaul was in the kitchen, making everyone a cup of coffee.
“You’re all a bunch of lazy cunts,” he said.
“Two sugars Otherpaul,” said Pauli.
“He’s a good lad, you know,” said Bob. “Don’t you think?”
“Fuck off,” said Otherpaul, from the kitchen. “It’s your house. Why don’t you make the fucking coffee?”
“It’s my house,” said Bob.

On the TV, Clint Eastwood was making himself a breastplate out of iron.
“You’d always shoot Clint in the head,” said Dixon.
Pauli nodded.
Dixon looked serious. “I mean - you never know when a motherfucker like Clint is going to be wearing a breastplate made out of iron.”
Pauli nodded more.
Too right,” he said.

“Cheers,” said Bob to Otherpaul, taking one of the two cups of coffee that Otherpaul brought into the living room.
“Cheers,” said Pauli, taking the second cup.
“Hey,” said Otherpaul, on his way back to the kitchen to collect the rest of the drinks. “What’s everyone doing this weekend?”

Otherpaul was in the kitchen, making everyone a cup of coffee.
“You’re all a bunch of lazy cunts,” he said.
“Two sugars Otherpaul,” said Pauli.
“He’s a good lad, you know,” said Bob. “Don’t you think?”
“Fuck off,” said Otherpaul, from the kitchen. “It’s your house. Why don’t you make the fucking coffee?”
“It’s my house,” said Bob.

On the TV, Clint Eastwood was making himself a breastplate out of iron.
“You’d always shoot Clint in the head,” said Dixon.
Pauli nodded.
Dixon looked serious. “I mean - you never know when a motherfucker like Clint is going to be wearing a breastplate made out of iron.”
Pauli nodded more.
Too right,” he said.

“Cheers,” said Bob to Otherpaul, taking one of the two cups of coffee that Otherpaul brought into the living room.
“Cheers,” said Pauli, taking the second cup.
“Hey,” said Otherpaul, on his way back to the kitchen to collect the rest of the drinks. “What’s everyone doing this weekend?”