traffick boss has a quill pen and is sitting in the break room > > he has disconnected the lights and instead an oil lamp is placed on > the table at which he is seated
dictator of dictatortopia calls up on an emergency satellite phone a zombie government worker comes in, dressed in a long tailed jacket, with the phone on a platter intern comes in and makes photocopies of some tax forms zombie government worker: “boss, it’s dictator of dictatortopia” platter: “ring! ring! xerox machine: “whirr! cachunk!” >
