The Customer Is Always Right

AN: Could there really BE any other possible customer for this stuff?

How very… thoughtful of him, Vlad thought with a smirk, as he rummaged in his closet for one of the many rolls of Fenton White that he had purchased from his former friend, Jack's, little startup- anonymously, of course. "I mean, really, how could I not? This is just TOO perfect."

Whistling, he tucked a fresh roll under one arm, the Wall Street Journal under the other, and locked the door behind him. The last touch was a "Do Not Disturb" over the knob.

An hour later, he emerged, looking quite relieved. "Indeed... an absolute stroke of genius," he laughed.