‘Miss Green, would you come into my office?’

            A stern expression on the solicitor’s face. Stacey shrugged. Parker was a jerk. That wrinkled spud of a face and those tiny full stops of eyes: she bet he had no kind of life outside the office and his wife henpecked him.

            ‘Really, some of your typos.’

            ‘My what?’

            ‘Typing errors. Look here. Evidence-based farts. It’s facts Miss Green. And here, look. This is a price we should balls at. It’s balk at.’

            ‘Maybe they read better that way?’

            ‘They don’t make sense that way. Get them altered please and pay attention to your work.’