See, this is how two adults deal with their difference. They both know that the one guy screwed up to the cost of the whole team, and that the other guy needs to say it aloud. Bam, there you go. No need for screaming, hysterical repeating yourself, and savage recriminations, much less threats and proclamations. This ain’t a detective TV show.
Of course, both men will bottle this experience up, live with it and age prematurely, eventually dying young and with overheated livers, but at least neither one of them would go to their graves with the shame of having had a screaming hissy fit.
And yet the swimsuit doctor seems drawn to Erich. His bottled up frustration may be more assuaged than Hans’s.
Erich sobered up fast. Mr. Biner must have had some weak-butt whiskey in that flask.
I wanna see how doofusFamily mom handles making last place
Posted this one before but it is appropriate here:
How do you get fifity Germans out of a swimming pool?
You tell them it is closing.
Harsh, Hans, HARSH!