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Dance, Fucker, Dance
‘’Coffee, tea or hot chocolate,’’ Jamie snapped, ‘’choose.’’
Robbo the Hobo, dressed in so many layers you could barely see his face, tapped the few coins he had dug out of his pockets with a broken nail, ‘’I want a latte!’’
‘’Since when have your tastes become so acquired, Rob?’’ Jamie rolled his eyes at one of his regulars.
‘’The Starbucks in the town centre does Lattes!’’ Robbo said, annoyed.
‘’Yeah, well, we’re not a Starbucks and I’ll be drawn and quartet before we are. If you want a Latte, go there!’’
‘’No way, man! They charge over three quid!’’
‘’Well then,’’ Jamie gave him a killer smile, ‘’coffee, tea or hot chocolate?’’
‘’Coffee,’’ Robbo grumbled, knowing he’d never win
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