“God damn,” Brett said, carrying a cardboard box full of office supplies into the new office, wearing khakis, a white button-down shirt, and a red tie, “so excited to stop doing campaign work and finally do some policy work!”
He plopped his box on a desk in the lobby room, behind the main desk.
“Brett,” Dane said to him, following him into the room with an armful of office supplies, haphazardly pressed to his wrinkled, stained button-down, “do you even know what ‘policy work’ means?”
Brett looked at him bitterly, “yeah, it’s making laws, idiot.”
“Have you ever even done policy work before?” Dane asked him with the tone of a subtle taunt.
“Dane, at least I have a college f*****g degree. You’re lucky Mike brought you on to run his Outlook account with the education you have.”
“Jesus f*
