Spits on his face

"He must be a cleaner, Mac, look at his outfit! I'm sure he must be crazy or something." A man chipped in and the room erupted in laughter.

Ansel tried his best to remain calm.

Was this how representatives from companies behave? He wanted to hit them in the face but it would be a rash decision.

Ansel’s patience had finally worn thin and he spoke up with a seething voice, his temper flaring like a raging fire. “Why do you think I can’t sign a contract with the L Company?” he challenged, his words sharp. “None of you can either, so don’t give me that crap.”

Ansel was overly confident and Mac wondered why out of everyone in the room, the good-for-nothing beggar was the most confident.

A man who was in his forties face contorted with anger, he stood to his feet and addressed Ansel with a venomous tone. “And you think you’re fit to sign a contract?” he seethed, his eyes blazing with contempt. “What gives you the right to sit at a table with us? Who the hell do you think you are?” He clear