"So, what do you think, Bobby? You interested in it?" Bobby looked puzzled, almost confused by what Hank meant. "..You'll be paid in experience, and you can have anything you want from the vending machine." Hank stated, that last bit tacked on for good measure.
"Hrrrm.." Bobby thought. "What would I be doing?" "You'd be tackling the important job of "tank wipe". But, if you're lucky, you could get promoted to Assistant Assistant manager!" Hank said.
"What's that?" Bobby asked. "Well, you'd be helping me in my duties. That's.. basically all." "What kind of snacks do they have there?" Bobby asked, sounding quite hungry. "Well, we have fruit pies, chips, sodas, cookies.. uh.. I don't spend much time at the vending machines."
"You had me at fruit pies." Bobby said.
"Then it's settled! You start work tommorow, Bobby. You'll have to wake up around 7 or so, and be there by 8 sharp." Hank said. "Sure, dad, no problem."
Hank walked back outside, and back to the alley. His friends stared at him, but Dale boldly asked, "Over your little hissy fit, Hank? Hhehehe!" "Shut up, Dale." Hank replied.
Hank took a sip of beer. "Yup." "Yup." "Eeyup." "Mm-hmmm." the alley replied.
"So I got Bobby a job at Strickland Propane." The news was met by applause, before Hank continued. "It should straighten the boy out enough so he doesn't try to become a chef, or, God no, a salesman." Hank shuddered at the thought.
"Well, it's good you got Bobby a summer job, Hank. What's next? Going to get Ladybird a job as a police dog?" Dale sarcastically asked.
"Dale, once again, shut up. And you know Ladybird panicks under pressure!"
"Hank, that's not the point -" "I don't care!" Hank sharply interrupted. "Is it so wrong if I want to get my boy interested in propane?"
The three stared at the ground in silence. Hank was great at proving people wrong, and once he's stood ground, he's there. No arguing.
"Eeyup." Hank begun. "Yep." Dale replied. "Eeeeyep." Bill responded. "Mm-hmm." Boomhauer finished.