"Bruce Frisbee."
I'm walking around her desk and this is what she says to me as she's typing up invoices (with one finger, I believe).
"What?"
Again. "Bruce Frisbee."
Still not making any more sense. So I just stare at her.
"You know...FRISBEE?" She mimics the act of throwing the eponymous disc across the reception area.
"Yeah..."
"That's his name. I just like it."
"Ah. Ha. I see."
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