Seamus blinked when he read over the contents of the owl, not entirely sure if he was reading it correctly. When he determined that, yes, he was reading it correctly, he grabbed a quill and parchment to write the git of a man back. Miles Fucking Bletchley.
Bletchley-
WHAT THE FUCK?! Yes, I knew that you were to run the pub until Liam is old enough to inherit. Unfortunately.
Define okay.
You want me to work the entire fucking week by myself? Are you completely nuts? Do you know how much work there is to do? Could I request perhaps another person to help me during the week? It's a lot of work and too much for one person to handle.
I'm not an idiot. I know to collect receipts already, you twat. I'll collect the receipts.