On board another vessel, moored at 100 meters a crow flies from the Avalon’s Mist, a person holds on in his big sweaty hands a pair of binoculars. Apparently he’s interested in the preparations that fervently occupy the marshals and several other people: they are placing buoys and rafts which will be used the next day for the race. Annoyed, the man wipes his forehead and behind the neck with his arm covered with a beige linen shirt with gaudy purple lines. The small bloodshot eyes and the crew-cut hair, give him a little reassuring look.
– Damn! I didn’t need this situation. Too many people, too many witnesses: call him, we can’t implement what we have been commissioned. Ask the Chief if there is an alternative plan, otherwise we must wait.
The man arrogantly throws the binoculars to another enormous guy with a face that would scare the bravest dockworker. These catches the binoculars and places it on the counter as he blurts out in a couple of curses before answering:
– Okay. But for me there are no problems. A sharp blow to the neck and…
The voice is harsh, with a strange indefinable accent, he brings both hands on the collar and makes a very significant gesture.
The one which appears to be the more intelligent of the two answers:
– Asshole, but where do you have your brain, you moron! I remind you that we aren’t here to impress any female in search of adventure, idiot. You do think with what you have between your legs. You do what I say and try not to use that too little brain of yours, it’s better for both of us!