Title Fail - Cant Think of One
Vincent grinned, putting an arm around his accomplice, pleased with their work. The ground around their feet was littered with empty spray paint cans and the blank, boring wall before them was now a work of art. If you could call mindless doodles and quotes 'art' that is.
"You know, Chase," he started, eying the creation, "Hindsight being twenty-twenty, I really don't think we should've signed it
Chase laughed, "As if they don't already know it was us."
The boys found themselves in an all too familiar room. It was a dreary place, as any office seemed to be, and most everything within the four walls was brown. Wooden desk, chairs, and bookshelves. Brown carpet, tan walls, darker brown curtains with a frilly little design at the top. It made Chase shift nervously, though he often wore suit-like clothing, formality made him uneasy. As for Vincent, well, he just thought it literally and figuratively looked like shit.
The Dean, this is what everyone referred to him as after Vin