In Midas Corp’s 97th floor board room, Glenn went from chair to chair, placing the regalia of business just so.  There was a folder, complete with simulated documents and a tablet detailing the sale between Sizemore and the new backers, a legal pad, and a selection of pens and pencils, even a cup of coffee.  It was all strictly symbolic.  The board would bring their own implements slaved to record and message.  But The City’s kabuki of the physical world was of the utmost importance.  And Interns had to play their part.  The Smiling Man nodded, and Glenn exited discreetly.

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