"How's it looking, boss?"
Lesley sighed and worked a wad of mucus down her throat. Her cold had not improved for two days, and she was both physically and mentally congested - like her brain was clogged up.
"Well, Clyde," she said, "I'd hate to downgrade Ben's efforts, but...I can't use this."
She passed the folder of documents back to Clyde, whose eyebrows had shot up so high that they almost moved to the top of his bald head.