Of Ties and Temptation
Sitting on the edge of Shanks' messy and unmade futon, Ben watched as the younger man rummaged through his closet. The grinning redhead held up yet another, albeit more subdued than his earlier selections, brightly patterned shirt. It was too much for the history professor to bear and he gave in to the urge he'd been fighting for the last ten minutes and smacked his palm against his forehead.
"Shanks, you just CAN'T go before the review board like that. You can not. Well, certainly you can, but I should say that your odds of attracting a position at the school will take a sharp nosedive no matter how brilliant your thesis defense might be. Don't you have anything that's a little more, that is to say, professional? Professorial even?"
"Shanks, you just CAN'T go before the review board like that. You can not. Well, certainly you can, but I should say that your odds of attracting a position at the school will take a sharp nosedive no matter how brilliant your thesis defense might be. Don't you have anything that's a little more, that is to say, professional? Professorial even?"