"Wow, hey, ya know what?" Isaac asked.

Bob looked up from his workdesk in annoyance. "Whaddya want, Issac?"

Isaac winced, feeling sheepish. "Well, as you know Bob, I was working on this slide-rule problem and..." He then shuffled his feet, unsure how to proceed. "..well, I'm having a little difficulty."

"Whyzzat?"

"Well," Isaac whined, "for one thing, it's made out of Kevlar. Which is rather interesting, considering DuPont Corp hasn't even invented Kevlar yet."

Bob now glared at his new friend. Isaac was always going on about stuff like this. "Listen, Is', this reminds me of that story you were thinking about writing, about how history can be determined mathematically? And how this one math guy uses it to figure out that the galactic empire is heading for collapse? You remember that?"

"Hey now. That's no more silly than your short story idea about a blind spaceman songwriter. No one's gonna read that kind of silly libertarian fluff. People want serious concepts, future politics. Not crap from the pulp era. You're writing pure juvenile pulp, is what you are, with this idea." Isaac then folded his arms in an expression of superiority.

Suddenly the supervisor's basso profundo voice boomed out from the head office, startling them both: "Asimov, Heinlein! We're not paying youse guys to stand around and yakkity-yak! Back to your desks, the both o' ya!"

There are some diferences between UK and US conventions on dialogue tagging, I think, but they're pretty minor.

She worked for Dupont.