warning: some strong language
Without looking at her oPhone, Murina knew who was calling. Unfazed, she finished typing what she had been working on before tapping her phone to answer, letting her Bluefang in her ear pick up so she could continue working.
“WHY DID YOU DO THAT?” a deep but distinctly whining voice shouted at first opportunity. Muri continued to type.
“My Twitter account! Why did you lock i—”
“What’s my job, Ghakhar?” the collected black rat spoke calmly over the frustrated voice before he could rant any further. Either stunned into silence or wordlessly contemplating the question, there was a long pause that followed.
“You’re my agent, and you’re SUPPOSED to b—”
“Correct,” Muri spoke over him again, the clatter of computer keys echoing in her office. Even if she didn’t have her almost unearthly ability to multitask, she would not bring herself to pause her workday for this discussion. “And what is your job, Ghakhar?”
The goat snorted out an indignant huff of air, growing tired of this game and wanting answers.
“A basketball player. A PROFESSIONAL basketball player who is wondering what gives his agent the r—”
“Correct again,” Muri chirped finally closing out her document to give additional attention to the call. She folded her hands onto each other, tilting her head as though he were sitting on the other side of her desk.
“And… what part of your job is it to start pointless arguments over Twitter?” Dewitt’s eyes grew wide, and he snorted angrily again.
“Now wait a minute, that was not all me! Did you see what she—”
“Dewitt, I don’t CARE what she said!” the sound of her palms slamming onto the top of her desk as she stood suddenly could be heard over the phone, and over her elevated voice, making the markhor lean back reflexively despite being alone in his living room.
“I have had to reel you in once or twice for this nonsense in the past, but when I have general managers, coaches and PLAYERS leaving me messages about this Twitter bullshit, we have a problem, Ghakhar!”
“You are my agent! You are supposed to back me up! You saw what was being said!” Dewitt shot back, looking at his phone as though his account was magically going to work again.
“Do you know why I’m not on Twitter, Ghakhar?” Feeling certain he was being talked down to, Dewitt growled, kicking his coffee table with his boot, toppling a pewter bust of Khaless. He sat up quickly to right it, searching for damage.
“Let me guess. You’re too busy?”
“Nooo,” Muri sang, accepting stack of papers her assistant had just slipped on her desk.
“Because I don’t NEED to be on Twitter. I trust my clients. There are a lot of players out there who rely on their agent to be on Twitter, for better or for worse. To have yet another person congratulate their game, or to put out fires they’ve started. To keep an eye on everyone. That is not the case for me. That SHOULDN’T be the case for you.”
She could feel the tall goat’s grimace through the phone, but the lack of retort told her she was getting somewhere.
“You know I don’t pass complements around lightly, so you know I mean it when I say this. You are better than this Ghakhar. You. Are. Better than this.”
Dewitt looked at his hoofnails, not realizing he had been picking at the edges so hard. “Yeah, well… maybe if you had done anything the first time…”
“I am not saying I am not going to stick up for you, Dewitt,” Muri interjected, not to interrupt this time, but to reassure, “But you need to let me handle the real problems. Not go out and create more.”
The big goat sighed, finally leaning back on the couch, tossing his jet back hair out of his face. He still wanted to argue. His leg tapped restlessly, thinking of an excuse to bark at Muri. She continued before he got the chance.
“I need you off Twitter for a while,” she tapped her stack of papers into an orderly pile after applying her signature to a few of them. She braced for his resistance.
“You’re not my Mom, Murina! You can’t just take away my toys because you think I’m being a bad boy.” She could tell by the tone in his voice he was a bit desperate. A sigh followed as he rolled his big horned head around his shoulders. “Miss B, come on. This is embarrassing enough as is having you shut me down like that.”
“Oh, THIS is embarrassing? Dewitt, I don’t LIKE having to jump in and pry you off an argument that did not in any way shape or form needed to start in the first place. It makes you look bad. It makes me look bad. And right now, this is the option you have left me. You’re off Twitter until you can learn some humility and restraint. You wanted to be a hero so badly, Ghakhar? Be one to your team.”
The scowl hadn’t left Dewitt’s muzzle the entire time, but no further argument came forth. Muri waited, for one nonetheless.
“Do we have an understanding, Ghakhar? I don’t want anyone calling me about this nonsense anymore. And if you have a problem, you call ME, not Twitter. Understand?”
And peeved huff was all the response she got in return. Murina took a deep breath, brushing aside her paperwork for good, steepling her fingers.
“Now. Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Ghakhar?”
“Yeah. You got LaTour’s phone number?”
Don’t tempt me, Murina thought, rubbing her temples.