My cousin returned to the armchair. With a rye buzz, she recounted the rest of the teen"s daring flight.
Spouting cusses like geysers discharged water, the construction guys, Longboard and Vermeer—so nicknamed because of dusty, sun-bleached T-shirt logos—thrust the grappling duo to the linoleum floor. This annoyed mountain-man “Brad Pitt”, who had developed an obvious thing for Linda. Chivalrously, the 200-pound man scudded across the long barroom and pulled Linda to her size six feet, asking if all was well as he passed a container of napkins so she could wipe away globs of grease and condiments.
Meanwhile, Xavier chomped Longboard on a fuzzy forearm and kicked Vermeer in the cajones, and zipped through the rear fire exit like a surfer striving for a much-desired tube ride, setting off
