She walk to platter and poke Hon. Bag irreverently with fork. She make scorn with her nose. Then she open kitchen door and urge me to it with enraged broomstick.
“I give you your choice,” she say horesly. “Either you can go at once or depart immediately.”
“I shall not wait that long!” I collapse with cruel expression peculiar to eagles. “If you discharge me, I shall obtain mean revenge. I shall quit.”
Thusly speaking I promenade forth into unemployment. I am still there.
Hoping you are the same,
Yours truly,
Hashimura Togo.