//------------------------------//
// Prelude 
// Story: Tintin and the Magic of Friendship 
// by RudyGamgee2 
//------------------------------//

Sitting in the pitch dark of an office space, its sole occupant typed aloud with cold deliberation. “What do you mean, nothing?”

The reply came almost immediately. Exactly that, genius. There’s no record of them from any database that exists.

Expecting such correspondence after all this time, the following message was sent: “How could this happen? You said there was no other point of entry?”

I don’t know, okay! The complaint included something akin to, It’s not like there’s a safety protocol or instruction manual for this.

“We have to get them out of here," the occupant typed once again. "Out of sight, and fast.”

And where do you propose we send them? How do you plan to transport all these bodies across, without drawing any attention?

“I can tell you this," said the individual typing, "Their presence will cause unwanted prying, if we don't act.”

Thanks for the obvious rebuttal. Very helpful. Next came another snide remark. It’s bad enough I have to deal with an overreaching micromanager. Don’t make this harder than it is already.

“Can you take care of them, or not?”

What do you think? The desk chair swerved evermore slowly, with each attempt made by its user to keep calm.

“Investing so much to this project allows me the final say of it ever leaving the ground. Remember that.”

As always.

“Fix this, before it becomes your problem.” With that, the chat box was closed. Then the office's only light source flicked off from the desktop. The user stiffly rose to depart from the nightly shadows of the building, huffing with deep agitation. If there was anything about overnight hours most despised, unexpected dilemmas would make for a solid argument.

+ J M J +