Good morning, guys! Good morning, everyone! What's wrong?
Why the straight faces? Did you all sleep with me? -Good morning to you!
-Good morning my ass, Márcia! You know what time is it right now? 8AM!
8! No one has the right to be happy at 8 am. Today is Monday.
My life is hell even on Fridays, when I have to spend the few bucks I have with my few friends to drink a lot of beer and forget I spent the week looking at you. And then you show up on a Monday with the smiley face of someone who had morning sex. Márcia, stop it!
In this cold? It's cold, Márcia! Stop it!
No one can stand this! Everyone here comes to work with hate in their hearts. Hating life, not wanting to leave their beds.
They come not because they like it, they need it. Anyone likes it? Anyone?
Do you like being here? No one likes it! People need it, because this is a job.
If it was good it wouldn't be called "work," it would be called "menage with Bruna Marquezine. " I don't like you, Márcia, ok? I don't like Mondays either.
I hate you more than I hate Mondays. . .
and people here like you less than I like you. You know why? Because you're just like a Monday.
You show up being hated, unnoticed, and takes long to go away! So next time please show up like a weekend, quick and straight! And be professional and cut the smile of a Disney Princess who took LSD and fucked Capitain Planet all night long, sit at your table and complain about your life like everyone else here.
Go fuck yourself, Carlos! Damn. Good morning to you too, honey.
There it goes again! So good, man! So good.
Awesome. Look at that! Come back, Carlinhos.
Look, again! Again!
