Walter Franks sat in the director's office; his feet on the director's desk. He was smoking one of the director's cigarettes. He was drinking the director's liquor, filched shamelessly from the director's private filing cabinet where it reposed in the drawer marked "S." Drawer "B" would have given beer, but Walt preferred Scotch. He leaned forward and tossed the director's cigarette into the director's wastebasket and then he pressed the button on the desk and looked up.…
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