Damn, where did he say to put the horses?
He was going to get sacked soon if he couldn’t figure out how to listen when the boss spoke. Tony wanted to please him, he really did, it was just that the man had this mouth. You could write poetry about that mouth and Tony wanted to touch it, kiss it, lick the lips before he nibbled on them. When he talked all he saw was the lips forming words like “west pasture”, “horses”, “the new foal” and Tony would silently whimper, praying no-one would notice his fascination with the boss.