Paul Mollusk; the Vice President of the Board was insane with anger. He had demanded the keys from Joe Rashford Grindley who had not brought them to him.
Paul Mollusk, the Great Grandson of Ebeneezer Mollusk, to be denied what he demanded?
His blood pressure sky rocketed, and he nearly smashed his phone. Of course, he didn’t because he couldn’t afford a new phone.
He rang Elvis March.
Elvis, seeing it was Mollusk, did not answer.
Yes, being the President looked good on a resume, (if he ever had to write one) but to be expected to (pardon the expression) work … I mean, this is Elvis March, not some commoner.
Elvis left the phone on the dresser and drove to town. He made a rather peculiar turn, which added a few miles, but he liked passing the huge showroom which had once been ‘March Autos’.
Thirty years ago, March Autos imported most of the cars sold. Today, it was owned by nobodies, having been sold by his father to pay debts.
The new location of March Autos was a few miles away, it was called “Great Deals”, and sold used cars.
He drove in and went to the air conditioned office, to his tiny desk in the far corner where he had virtually nothing to do, except watch his workers.
His workers always left the office to find something to do when he was there, regardless of the temperature outside.