He squints, obliged by the hat, “What color would this hat be?” He keeps rubbing his chin, deciding whether or not to actually fall for the job offer. Hadn’t he been trained to not fall into temptation anyway? He purses his lips in thought.
He raises his brows, genuinely surprised by the confession, “Aha! Ah, you’re horrible. I actually wanted a cool chair. My CEO dreams are going down the drain.” He pinches his nose bridge, disappointed now. “So close, yet so far away. I don’t even wanna’ talk to you right now. My dreams are crushed.” He says, while waving the other away from him.
Releasing a copious amount of air, he tilts his head up, seeming to search for an answer for some time before snapping his fingers and declaring victoriously, “Red – like China’s-flag-red. Ah-huh.”
But he needed more than just that, because- why? China’s flag could be interpreted as any shade of red, and it wasn’t likely that this exactly-unexact shade was exactly what he was thinking of. “Candy-apple red. Red like the blood of your enemies. It’s a very red-red, a red you can’t mistake for any other shade of red. Do you understand?”
