I mean, yeah, I hope being a fucking chair would be enough to keep him out of trouble. Jesus.

[ He can't imagine the alternative. It would probably be kind of kickass to see.

Tucker turns to the side long enough to stick out a foot and trip some middle-management looking type trying to power-walk towards the exit. After months of Jorgmund being Jorgmund, this is honestly pretty cathartic. ]

And who cares if there are? We're making trouble. That's like the whole thing we're doing. Better the kitchen than my leg.