Hey man, I just wanna say, on behalf of all of us guys, sorry for your loss.

Rob the Nob looked earnestly out from my laptop where we were engaged in a Teams call.

I tilted my head to the side and made a prrrt? sound with my lips.

Rob the Nob looked down in a way that could have implied respect or he could simply have been nubbling at his little penis.

Sorry for my loss?

I frowned my lips down toward my chin in the way that makes hamsters feel afraid.

Yeah man, you know. the Queen and hallelujah and all that.

Rob the Nob shifted uncomfortably and tried not to meet my eye.

The Queen?

I twitched a little as if swimming and a Koi Carp had just tried to hoover up one of my fun bags.

_{^{looks like a perfect fit!?}}

Rob the Nob frowned as if it were he and not I that was dealing with a fucking idiotic baboon.

The Queen you know, the one who died...?

His statement dripped with so much sarcasm that I wondered just how gay both his fathers were.

The Queen? That was hours ago man, I think we are over that now.

I played with my pen whimsically so that they could tell that we were all good.

Hours ago? I don't get that but... um, right. Ok, well, we heard the news and wanted to pass on our condolences. We were actually wondering if you would be open for business today but it seems you are.

One of the Polish guys with too many Z's in his name piped up.

This is a dirty thing for all of you. We too pass on our best regards.

Zsillzsinzki-or-something placed a hand on his chest as if he were a footballer with heartburn after feasting on too many bearded clams.

Yes, cool. No worries. Well, lets get on. So we have a number of things to discuss.

I tried not to giggle at our Polish comrade's dirty thing and attempted to move the call on.

So what happens now for you guys?

Rob the Nob stroked his chin as he looked at me through the miracle of Teams.

What? Are you still talking about the Queen?

Exasperation bubbled up within me like the mess that foams up around a snail if you accidentally ejaculate upon it.

Yeah, man. The Queen. Is it like a week of mourning for you guys? Are all the stores closed? How does that work?

Rob the Nob grimaced at the bleakness of a world without open stores.

Mate, I have no fucking idea what happens now. No one really gives a fuck apart from the media.

There was an audible intake of breath from the people on the call. Something made a deep thudding noise and I hoped that one of them hadn't fainted at my blasphemy.

Yeah, well. I guess everyone reacts to these kinds of things in their own way. So just from the team, we want you to know. We are sorry for your loss.

Yes, it was a black thing. We too are sorry in your loss.

Zsillzsinzki-or-something mumbled slowly as if reading a passage from the famous What To Do When Your Queen Dies.

I take it you will be finishing early today because of it?

Rob the Nob asked gently.

Fuck sake, how many times did I have to tell these guys it wasn't a big deal? I opened my mouth, then closed it. Then took a deep breath.

Finishing early?

Everyone nodded. This obviously was what they wanted to hear, not some random Scotsman shouting about nobody giving a fuck.

I nodded sadly.

Yes, I will be finishing early. Out of respect.

I bowed my head.

Looks like beer o'clock was starting early tonight. God bless the Queen.