"More gloves?" There's something almost disbelieving in the question, and Tom nods his head yes to his boss, who looks at him, baffled. "But we just got a box in last week!" Tom shrugs.
"Yeah, well, yer gonna hafta pick s'more up. Migh' wan' t'make it a biggun."
"What happened to them?" he wants to know, curiousity sneaking into his voice and Tom breathes in and looks at the ceiling, the previous work week going through his head, the hundreds-odd pairs of gloves he'd seen gone through.
"Hal's a bit thorough, tha's all." Tom reassures him, "Real big on cleanliness like, take me word for it. …oh, an' make tha' two boxes. Hold'im maybe tha nex' week or so. 'pprecciate it."