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pretty vile stuff.
on her falsies
'oooo, I'd love to..... have it off with her' vibe
Where do they go?
There is a jail square. Classic Mail misreporting.
Turns out they're a mess at all levels.
Mackay has to back down and issue grovelling apology.
Mackay applies for a job - gets it - is just waiting for his contract to be arranged.
Tan destroys him.
Pure evil genius.
He walks through the reception area with an air of quiet confidence: confidence borne of the knowledge that this is a formality, a shoo-in. He's escorted into the darkened board room by the slim blonde receptionist (nice falsies, he muses) to be confronted by the obligatory board room table at the end of which is a single, large, black leather chair, the back of which is facing Mackay. As the door closes behind him the chair swivels slowly to reveal the inscrutable, diminutive figure of Vincent Tan stroking a white Persian cat.
'Ah' he begins 'Mr Mackay.... I've been expecting you...'
is being bombarded with calls from Russian clubs as we speak.